#mentioned Cad Bane

[anarchy-n-glitter]

The Good, The Bad, and...

Summary: Lucy and The Ghoul encounter a shadowy figure from his past while on their way to New Vegas. This stranger, nicknamed Red Eyes, is intent on collecting a bounty on The Ghoul as a means to settle a feud between the two after they were betrayed by him. Will Red Eyes succeed, or will they have a change of heart based on their complicated feelings toward the man? (Cooper Howard x OC/reader) Words: 2,941

A/N: I forgot to post chapter 1 of this on here sorry guys. Anyway this is low key a Star Wars AU because as a Cad Bane fan I simply could not help myself so this is technically kind of a follow up to this fic. Enjoy!

Chapter 1

From the Desert Comes a Stranger

“I’ve taken down so many of dese clones over da years…” Her father began in his heavily accented manner, sighing, and pushing his hat back with his pointer finger as he glanced at her from the corner of his eye. The red of his irises were somehow muted by the red lenses of the goggles he wore, which made it hard to see the look in his eyes as it was. He quickly dropped to his knees and with a single swipe of his knife he removed something from the clone’s body. She couldn’t quite make out what it was before he pocketed it.

He turned around quickly, pointing his gloved finger up at her. She straightened up.

“Now, Ciella, what ya need to know is…” He handed her the bloodied knife, closing her fingers around the hilt and holding her smaller hand in his. It was one of the only times he made a tender gesture towards her other than the odd hug here and there. 

“Once you figure out one da rest are easy.” She had to wonder what the point of all this was. 

When they arrived on the site - an old, decrepit warehouse with a caved-in roof - her father was quick to corner the clone that now lay dying before them. He tried his best to grab the gun that was strapped to his leg, fumbling with it and managing to point it in her father’s general direction before he was gunned down. Two shots in the chest from the looks of it, shots that left the man (clone) heaving and wheezing on the floor with blank eyes, and she knew that’s what he wanted to happen. If he wanted to shoot the man in the head he would have. He was the fastest shot in the Wasteland, and it would stay that way for many years. 

“Now, I want ya to take dat knife dere and,” He finally stood and moved her closer to the dying man. “Yer gonna have to cut his throat, unless ya want to hear him scream. I’m not against it but it’s best dat we keep him quiet. Don’t want any stragglers comin’ in and takin’ us by surprise.”

Ciella drew in a deep breath as she knelt down beside the man. His blank eyes suddenly held so much emotion, it was a look she’d seen in her own eyes a few times before. Mostly on dark nights in the Jewel as she listened to the way men spoke to her mother… and the way her father spoke to her at times. It was the look she saw in the mirror after she saw how her mama took care of those men - their purple, mangled faces contorted in pain and their eyes bloodshot staring up at her, and their hands clutched around their throats. 

This man was in pain, and he was afraid of dying. 

There was a large tattoo on the side of his face, around his eye. It was a symbol, most likely belonging to whatever faction he belonged to since escaping his vault. From what she overheard her dad discussing, Vault 66 seemed to be defunct, with the clones created within revolting and escaping into the Wasteland. He had been hunting down the clones for the last five years, among other things. She never quite understood why anyone would flee a vault to live on the surface. 

Her father took the respirator off of his face, letting it hang below his chin. She felt more at ease at this, happy to hear his own, unmodified voice walking her through what she was about to do. Her heart was beating fast and felt like it had leapt into her throat. She glanced at the open ceiling and focused on the large, white moon that hung in the deep blue sky. 

Perhaps the sky full of swirling stars would be enough to comfort her.

“When he’s dead, cut off da part of his face with da tattoo and hand it to da Tin-Man. Den we can go home.” He instructed. Ciella hesitated. 

The clone looked at her, stared her down, silently begging her for mercy. He was just a clone, and he was wanted so he must have done something bad, right? She looked back at her dad, who had pushed his goggles up onto his forehead, revealing his bright red eyes staring back at her expectedly. Tufts of navy blue hair peeked out from under his hat and over his goggles and his lips were curved into a small smile. 

He actually looked like a supportive father for the first time in his life.

Ciella made her decision at that moment, and the girl at only eight years old turned around and drove the knife into the clone’s throat. His eyes widened and met her gaze for a moment and she felt her heart drop. He groaned and wheezed, the blood gurgling in his throat as the crimson substance dribbled from the corners of his mouth. A sputtering cough had his blood spraying across her face and she wasn’t sure if it was on purpose or not. She tried not to heave at the disgusting feeling. 

On instinct, she pulled the knife from his throat and drove it back into his flesh. Over and over. A larger, warmer hand wrapped around her wrist and stopped her mid motion. 

“Dere ya go.” Her father smiled wider as pride swelled in his chest. His baby would be a killer, just like he was. “After dis I’ll teach ya everyding I know.” 

☠☠☠☠☠☠☠

The sun bore down unbearably upon the duo traveling along the Mojave Desert. It had been miles and miles of desert between the Griffith Observatory and the place the Ghoul was certain Lucy’s father was heading. The vaultie was starting to fall behind, clearly tired from the constant moving. It was hard to find shelter all the way out here, and unfortunately for her the Ghoul didn’t feel comfortable stopping out in the open. 

They had traveled through a few settlements at that point, each one growing more and more decrepit and sparse. The people were quieter and hid away in their own corners of the small towns, eyeing the Ghoul and his traveling companion wearily. The whispers and glares of the different townsfolk hardly made for good hospitality, if anything it was that fact that drove him away from each place. Something was happening, someone said something, and he felt it was too risky to stop for a few nights in any of the settlements.

The last place they’d been to was a day’s walk away at this point, and the talk amongst the people in that saloon made him deeply uncomfortable. Then there was the body. 

In the sandy dunes of the last settlement they had been to laid a man with sun kissed skin and snow white hair stained at the temples with red. The poor man had his brains blown out, by who…  well, let’s just say he had a good idea of who it was. It was clear the job was done quickly, the man clearly didn’t see them coming, and the fact the man’s armor and other supplies went untouched raised even more alarm bells. He got them out of there quickly and quietly.

Unfortunately for Lucy, the Ghoul was one-track minded at the moment. His family was out there, he could feel it. There was a reason he kept going for over two hundred years, and he would not let those years of anguish be in vain. 

He would kill anyone who tried to get between them. 

“There’s gotta be somewhere we can stop, right?” Lucy sounded hoarse, tired. He wished he could answer her truthfully. He hadn’t traveled this far into the desert before, and the way the sun seemed to hang so high in the sky for so long made him question whether anyone ventured that far, let alone set up shop. He shrugged.

The dunes seemed to stretch on for miles and miles, with only a few rocky formations on the horizon. A few dried plants littered the ground here and there, somehow finding the strength to grow in such a harsh climate. It was a wonder anything was able to grow and flourish after the bombs. Maybe he should have sent the vaultie to ask for some sort of transport back at the saloon instead of being stubborn like he usually was. 

“Maybe that person’s coming from a settlement down that way?” The Ghoul froze, feeling himself go numb. 

Among the dancing heatwaves stood a dark-clad figure on the horizon. 

They stood still, any discernible features hidden by a wide-brimmed hat and respirator over the figure’s mouth. The wind blew and kicked up dust and whipped the figure’s coat to the side, revealing the large holster against their hip. Their dark attire starkly contrasted with the bright blue sky and pale sand. 

The words of the men in the saloon ran through his mind. 

Someone’s lookin’ for a ghoul just like ya! There was a bounty put out not too long ago, I think it’s been taken offa the board. A lotta caps goin’ for that guy. He considered that a warning at the time. 

Anyway, it looked like the guy who took the bounty was Red Eyes. He had the goggles an’ everything, but we all thought he was dead. 

And Red Eyes was supposed to be dead. He died around five or six years ago. 

The figure in front of him was a ghost. 

Red Eyes stopped a good twenty feet in front of them, standing perfectly still. The wind shifted again and from beneath the wide-brimmed hat came a tuft of navy blue hair that blew in the breeze. The desert was all too quiet now, and it felt like something from one of his old movies. Red Eyes felt like an old western villain, dark and ominous, seemingly a force of nature. He worried the figure wasn’t only after him. 

“Lucy, you should head back.” The Ghoul muttered, putting a hand out to stop her from moving any further. She stared at the figure for a moment, suddenly afraid because of the Ghoul’s reaction. 

“It’s only one person.” She muttered. “Maybe they’re lost?” The Ghoul stayed silent. He would not repeat himself.

Her doe-like eyes flickered to him and she noticed the way his mouth was set in a seemingly permanent frown. His whole body looked stiff, like a cornered animal. She nodded, understanding finally, before turning on her heel to make a run for it. 

The Ghoul watched as the stranger glanced in Lucy’s direction. Red Eyes observed her, seemingly studying her like an unbothered predator eyeing a nearby animal knowing it couldn’t do anything to stop it. He grit his teeth and took a few steps forward, spurs jangling with each stride. 

This was not good. 

“Now I know that fancy getup you got on is not yours.” He began through a false bravado, flashing teeth that used to be a pearly white. It was so easy for him to slip back into a role, something he had been doing this entire time. Yet, this time, he was given the chance to play the good guy. It felt unfamiliar somehow, after all, it had been several years since he’d done such a thing. He was almost grateful for this stranger’s theatrics. “Who might you be? Cause you sure as hell ain’t Red Eyes… he’s dead.” 

He knew all too well who this was. 

Red Eyes looked up, the red goggles reflecting the bright sun and making it impossible to see past their lenses. More of the stranger’s hair seemed to flow from behind them, long strands of navy waving in the wind like a flag. Their stance shifted from one of leisure to subtly looking like they would pounce. The stranger moved their coat away from their hip, revealing the large gun strapped to their form. 

“I’d be careful where I was sticking my nose if I were you.” The heavily modulated voice called out. “Or lack thereof.” 

The Ghoul bit his tongue. “I’m assuming that corpse we found back there was you, then? Certainly wasn’t the handiwork of any ol’ fiend.” 

“Wasn’t much work.” Red Eyes spat quickly. “Was a clone. They're easy. Woulda gotten in my way.” Their accent, even through the voice changer, was thick. Louisiana, most likely from the New Orleans area. 

“You’re here for me.” He didn’t feel the need to ask. He threaded his thumbs through the belt loops on his trousers, opting to seem more relaxed than he was. He knew Red Eyes would see right through his guise.

“Isn’t that obvious?” Their hand twitched beside their gun. He eyed them wearily.

“Well, I’m not goin’ willingly.” A low, rumbling chuckle sounded from the stranger. 

“I never said I was gonna take ya in alive.” They answered, voice cold with an edge to it. He fought the urge to argue, to call their bluff, for doing so would be too risky.

Truthfully, Red Eyes had every reason to want him dead. It had been a few years, five to be exact, since they last saw each other. Five long years since he turned the fellow bounty hunter in for killing a crime lord. Five years since he left them for dead. This would be a fitting end for their little rivalry, even if it wasn’t always that way. 

But he wouldn’t go down just yet. Not without a fight. 

He had to find another way to fight them. A quick draw duel would mean a death sentence for him, unfortunately. Red Eyes was and still is the quickest draw in the Wasteland. He would have to throw them off somehow, say something to really disarm them. 

He did the only thing he could think of, and instead of indulging in the stranger - instead of going for his gun - words that he never thought he would say slipped from his dry, cracked lips.

“Ciella, I’m sorry.” 

Red Eyes froze. Their hand was still dangerously close to their gun’s grip. Over the wind, he vaguely heard the sharp, uneven intake of air from the figure. The breeze picked up again, blowing open the stranger’s coat to reveal the figure of a woman. 

“It’s a bit late fer that, isn’t it, cher?” It most definitely was her. “I came ta finish the job. I shoulda known a coffin wouldn’t hold yer ass.” 

Cooper held back a laugh. Ciella Bane was an ally at one point, and maybe even a friend, but the moment her picture was up on one of those boards he knew their partnership was over. Someone was offering a hefty reward for whoever could bring the bounty brat in, preferably alive. 

That was his mistake. He knew he probably should have killed her while she was sleeping and taken the smaller reward for her corpse. Killing her like this would be a pain in the ass. 

“You wanna take off that ridiculous getup and let me see you?” He taunted, much to Ciella’s dismay. He just had to hit her where it hurt, get her emotional and in her head so she missed when she inevitably shot at him. However, it had been a few years, he couldn’t be sure that trick would still work.

Though with dear ol’ daddy not around to give her more of his tips and tricks he doubted she would have improved much more than the last time they brawled. 

Ciella scoffed. “The last thing you’ll see are these goggles. Everyone’s gotta know it was Red Eyes who took ya out, ghoul.” She spat, though there was a sadistic playfulness in her voice. Cooper rolled his eyes. 

“I got places to be, girl.” Cooper countered with equal venom. He was getting antsy, and he felt she was wasting his time. “Let us through and…” He stopped.

What would he do? What could he do? What could he possibly offer her where she wouldn’t be on his trail while he and Lucy trekked the Wasteland on a wild goose chase? Ciella coming back from whatever corner of the world she ran off to after burying him alive was the last thing he wanted. 

“Let us through and we can finish this some other time. I’ll tell you where I’ll be and you come find me.” He offered finally, feeling the weight of his words in his chest. He wouldn’t give up finding his family so she could have her petty revenge, but maybe one day, when everyone around him was gone and he knew his daughter was safe and could live a happy life, he would go to Ciella and let her put him out of his misery. 

“We do this here and now.” The bounty hunter replied. “That head o’ yers is fetchin’ a pretty penny. Figured it was better I did it than some chem addicted fiend on the street.” Her words were purposefully inflammatory. She was doing the same thing he was. 

She straightened up again, mimicking the stance of a cowboy in a western getting ready to draw, and Cooper knew what it meant. She wasn’t giving him a choice. They’d done this dance once before, and unfortunately for him it didn’t end well. 

The Ghoul sighed and moved his coat from his holster, and he mirrored her stance. “This ain’t gonna go the way ya think it will, sweetheart.”

“I doubt that.” That same, robotic voice answered, yet he knew she was still all too human underneath. 

#cooper howard x oc #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard x you #star wars au #fallout fanfic #cooper howard #the ghoul #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul x oc #fallout #cad bane mention!!! #so #cad bane #fallout tv series

[sinisterexaggerator]

Happenstance

Hondo Ohnaka x Fem!Reader

Summary: You are a rich heiress with daddy issues; Hondo is an ex-pirate without purpose. Your fates are intertwined, and soon you will be too, unless the hired help can’t keep her mouth shut. Will your relationship advance, or is your meeting purely happenstance?

Content warning: 18+ / NSFW for alcohol / mention of drugs, fingering in a public place, kissing, blowjobs, dry humping, tit sucking, cunnilingus, PiV sex, daddy issues, alcoholic parent, neglectful parent, caught in the act, stealing, and HEAVY simping. Reader is WEALTHY. Reader's parents are at some point present in this fic. No physical description other than the fact she has a decent pair of tits.

Word count: 23.4k (SORRY)

Notes: Oh My God. I started this fic last Spring Break when I was still in graduate school, if you recall, and I just managed to finish it this week -- almost a year to the day. Don't ask me how it got to 23,000 words, but -- SO SORRY. I edited it to the best of my ability.

This is the longest single thing I have written with only two small breaks as a continuous story. I read Pirate's Price / listened to the audiobook version, and was inspired. Hondo lives rent-free in my head, as does Cad Bane. I should mention the bit about Hondo hiding his true intentions behind his goggles is an idea @allsystemsblue had some time ago and I agree. They are like a shield, barring view into his soul.

P.S.: Yes, I had to throw in a Cad Bane / Duros mention, and yes I threw in a scene in a library. I couldn't help myself. ;D

Read on Ao3

Ah, what a perfect evening for a teensy bit of excitement of another sort. Smooth jizz music provided a delightfully mellow atmosphere, the accompaniment of moderate lighting helping to facilitate a most relaxing experience. This particular high-priced cantina was bathed in a wash of dark hues and tantalizing scents, however one individual scent stood out from all the others - it was the unmistakable and arousing smell of profit! Hondo Ohnaka knew this odorous perfume like the back of his scaly hand – which was quite  well, in fact – and this time it had decided to take on the form of a beautiful woman wearing a rather priceless heirloom around her supple neck.

Oh, but this was no ordinary woman and no ordinary heirloom! This woman was one of the wealthiest women in the galaxy by no fortune of her own, and the priceless object she wore around her graceful neck was none other than a fragment of Life-crystal, a valuable stone only procured from one planet by the name of Rafa from the aptly labeled Life-orchards. Hondo only knew this from eavesdropping on the greedy aristocracy that populated this little rock. She was an heiress who most likely had many riches to her name; it was too tempting to pass up such an easy target. 

Despite the lore and interesting stories ascribed to the jewel in her possession, the important thing was that these Life-crystals sold for exorbitant amounts of credits on the black market from Batuu to Scarif, and it was this object that called to him like no other. Currently. As far as Hondo was concerned, that crystal belonged with him – that is, until he sold it – which hopefully would be as soon as possible once he laid his twitchy, ring-laden fingers on it. 

The crimson coated devil took note of his surroundings, drinking in the scenery, the song, the “ambiance,” if you will, as he mentally prepared himself for the task – or rather, game – at hand. This flashy establishment was situated in the middle of the entertainment district on Oseon 6845, the largest asteroid in the Oseon System. It was spattered with opulent hotels, stately residences, and venues for shopping, dining, gambling, and so much more. 

It was not important how he arrived here, but it was important that he find a means of transport on his way out. Hondo would no doubt have to make a quick getaway and possibly even a daring escape should the worst case scenario happen to occur – the one where he was caught red-handed!  It never hurt to think ahead.

Hondo recalled seeing an XS stock light freighter snugly nestled in its docking bay back at the local spaceport, not to mention many luxury starships. This thought somewhat quelled the anxious feeling in the pit of his stomach, though the pirate oftentimes felt butterflies before any sort of risky activity! The thrill, the chase - the not-knowing-what was-going-to-happen-next part – all very addicting and quite satisfying at the end of a hard day’s “work.”

Presently, however, his attention was captured by the thing he sought – all in due time for everything else – knowing that it was in his best interest to focus on one criminal undertaking at a time, though he was of course capable of multitasking. Adjusting his sleeves in turn and flicking a speck of something off the ornate cuff link of his decadent outerwear, Hondo sized up the fine specimen before him with a tilt of his head and a twinkle in his eye; it was just visible beyond thick black rectangles and reinforced transparisteel. 

This lovely creature who leisurely sipped her Toniray carried with her an air of… something. Nobility? No. Regality? Definitely not. Ennui? Perhaps. Or maybe it was an overwhelming sense of entitlement. Regardless, Hondo stepped forward with hands clasped firmly behind his back, unable to help his poor posture after all these years. He supposed he looked a bit out of place, what with his eclectic fashion sense and the swagger in his step, but that had never stopped him before, and it most certainly would not stop him now! It was then the Weequay had a unique thought: he could use her apparent boredom to his advantage. What that clearly entailed he had only a few seconds to figure out as she had already laid her eyes on him. And what captivating eyes they were. 

Oh, this would be easy, he realized, like taking candy from a youngling. He almost felt guilty – almost being the keyword here – but he had not too long ago disabled his pirate’s honor! There was no turning back for Hondo, not once his mind was made up once and for all!

That is, unless there was some unforeseen issue… one that he did not realize until it was already too late… 

Luckily, as of right. this. very. moment, that was not the case! The scoundrel had set his intentions. By the subtle shift in this woman’s posture  - the miniscule nuances of her body language – he knew – oh, he knew -- she would be receptive to the most fun game of all: the art; the craft of double-tongued seduction! This night may turn out to be awfullllly interesting indeed, he mused. 

--- 

A man approached you – if you could call him a man. He was not human, but Weequay, although he was dressed very peculiarly. You had been lounging with an expensive, rare, and azure Alderaanian wine. At a thousand credits a glass, it was nothing you could not afford as you were the daughter of a weapon’s dealer and manufacturer; your father had a contract with the Empire. You had not worked a day in your short life though boredom had set in. 

Your eyes traveled over this odd fellow, noting despite his eccentric look he was rather handsome in a sort of rugged, cavalier way. If you were being honest, this being having locked his sights on you like one of your father’s heatseeking missiles was the most exciting thing to have happened to you all week long. 

Though you were rich, your life was one of tedium and endless irritation mostly brought on by the rest of your family. You had your small pleasures, your haunts, and your dirty little secrets, but overall your days were dreary and uneventful. In fact, you did not have a good relationship with the majority of your siblings and your father’s work consumed him. You still harbored resentment for how many birthdays he had missed.

Considering these facts, you discreetly straightened your posture, taking another sip of your chosen beverage to project a façade of casual impassivity; there was no sense in appearing desperate for his regard. 

“Forgive me ef I am intruding – dhough as you sit alone, I du not believe dat I am -” the man began, pausing before you, “- but I couldn't help but notice your long face from across de room.” He offered a bow of his head, his right arm lifting ever so slowly for his bedecked digits to gently clasp and raise your hand. He planted a kiss against the back of it; your heart instantly fluttered despite yourself -- you had been disarmed. “A flower as radiant as you should not be made tu suffer so. Tell me, what ails you, my dear?” 

“Are you always so bold?” you asked without thinking, much to your regret. You were used to being approached by others, it came with the territory. Your family was famous in this system, and someone was always trying to inch their way into your admittedly small social circle.  However, in this instance you were intrigued, a little off-put, but also very much enjoying the attention of this dashing sentient. You did not try to dislodge your fingers from his grasp; you allowed him to naturally release your hand of his own accord.

The stranger smiled - or rather, grinned devilishly - revealing his pearly whites alongside shining gold. Your eyebrows raised ever so lightly in surprise, you having instinctually drawn your arm back once the man had finished with his somewhat antiquated mode of greeting; he was treating you as if you were some fair maiden in a holomovie from times of old, yet you were anything but. “Ah, yes, you see, bold es my middle name – one of dem, for I have many – alongside bastard, and scoundrel, and ‘hey you, get back here!’ Et es one of de… nicer tings I have been called.” 

The man settled in, resting one elbow casually on the bar top next to where you sat, fingers snapping briskly together as he called to the Duros behind the counter. “A drink, I tink!” Then, returning his attention to you, he lowered his voice, a low-pitched baritone replacing the sharper notes he had used seconds earlier to address the server. “But you ded not answer any of my questions. I am so curious tu know… what could make such a beautiful woman frown so very, very hard…” 

He trailed off, feigning he did not know anything about the preposterous amounts of money your family supposedly had to its name; he was amazed you were sitting here alone. Perhaps you had a bit of a rebellious streak. The one thing that made sense to him was that this “planet” was full of the well-to-do. Such little riffraff passed through Oseon, you had no need for bodyguards or security measures - unlike your father – perhaps a mistake. A mistake that would cost you quite a lot of credits! 

Yet, Hondo felt you should feel lucky. He was a rogue, a thief, a technically ex-pirate, but he would not be any of those things at the risk of your physical harm. No, no! He was not that kind of brigand, not anymore! Mental harm, perhaps. Harm to your ego - to your pocketbook - but that is where he drew the line! 

In fact, as of late, he had the thought of starting up a legitimate business of his own. 

Of course, he would require funds to undertake such a venture… There would be overhead costs - things he would need to purchase or otherwise procure by different means – and he was sure your little trinket would help to offset anything he could not ordinarily afford.

Yes, yes, he had nearly sold the Jedi Padawan Ahsoka Tano into slavery knowing that she would catch the eye of a… certain type of person. Yes, he had objectified and sexualized many species, including his own, both men and women – not to mention all his other crimes -  but! But, but, but, but, buttt! That was all behind him – pun intended – or so he liked to think! He supposed there was always a chance some impossibly-hard-to-ignore opportunity might present itself, but until. that. time, Hondo Ohnaka was a gentleman. 

It was when the server arrived that, unfortunately, Hondo realized he was rather short on credits, and that this fine venue was a little bit too rich for his jet-black blood. Under most circumstances, he would have ordered anyway, started a tab to walk out on later, convinced his latest victim-er-friend to buy him one, or merely walked behind the bar and poured it himself, yet today - today -  he decided to tell the truth. It was far more exciting that way, and excitement appeared to be the very thing you needed, for Hondo was rarely wrong in that respect. 

“Excuse me, my sweet,” he interrupted before you could even begin to answer his previous query, “but would you mind paying for dis old pirate’s drink? Credits are… so hard tu come by dese days. What you are having es fine,” he finished with another arresting smile. 

You sat quietly, captivated. Your brain needed a moment to catch up. You absentmindedly waved a hand to the bartender, asserting that it was OK, and to put it on your tab. The Duros produced another glass of Toniray, nearly the color of its scales, and the self-proclaimed pirate merrily swiped it from her outstretched hand before there was a chance to set it down. He took a measured swig then inspected it up close, drawing the imported wine near to his weathered goggles. “Ah, a fine vintage,” he declared. “Very rare and expensive, I presume.” 

“A thousand credits a glass,” you said offhand, twisting the stem of your flute against the bar top. The pirate nearly spat out his next sip of wine, though that would have been a waste, so instead he nearly choked while swallowing. 

“I daresay, dat es …more dan I anticipa-”

“-you’re welcome,” you interjected, the smallest of simpers curling the corner of your mouth. You took the opportunity to allow yourself another drink, watching him carefully over the rim of your pricey beverage. Even though you came off cool and collected, inside you felt a tingle of something akin to delight. You had never seen a pirate before, much less talked to one. Despite your station in life, you were more or less sheltered. The number of times you had stepped foot off this damned rock could be counted on one hand. 

“Oh-ho-ho, a woman with expensive tastes! On dat we can relate.” 

“On account of you being a pirate?” you inquired.

The way this Weequay’s smile split his face in twain should have been alarming, the brightness of his expression more luminous than the light of a thousand suns. He chuckled from the seat of his belly, throwing back another gulp of Toniray before he gazed at you with steely eyes, a twinkle residing deep within.

“As my beloved mother always used tu say, all dat glitters es not gold! Sometimes, et es someting even more valuable, like a much-needed vacation, or an interesting conversation,” the devil claimed, gesticulating with his hand as he circled back to his main point. “But, more importantly, de… company of a most gorgeous woman for de evening, hm?”

“Oh, is that why you’re here?” you teased. “You’ve decided to make a pass at me? And here I thought my ‘long face’ had you concerned.”

“My dear,” the nameless man began, the lush complexity of his timbre sending a shiver down your spine. “Are you calling me a liar?” he asked, even toned. His sudden seriousness caught you by surprise considering the circumstances. 

Your expression mimicked your abrupt change in mood, a slight look of embarrassment crossing your features as you stumbled to come up with an answer. This prompted the man to laugh so boisterously that the volume of his mirth caused you to startle in your seat. But you would be remiss if you failed to admit that the stern shade he had taken with you stirred something primal that could not so easily be explained. 

“Hondo does. not. lie,” the character before you blurted out, “he merely stretches de truth on occasion. But!” he continued, “enough about me, for now – though I am so very interesting – what of you, madam?” 

What Hondo failed to comprehend or notice - though the pirate could be said to always notice everything - was the reason for your sudden slack jawed stare. Your brain was whirring with memories – memories of your childhood – and the anger your father projected when storming about your house. Before the fall of the Galactic Republic, he had made his fortune selling weapons to both sides, covertly playing the field so well that he earned billions, but there was forever present a sharp thorn in his side.

By this point in your short history, at an age where you were cognizant of politics and war and their respective atrocities and outcomes, you were somewhat disgusted by your family trade. Growing up you had wanted nothing more than to be seen and heard, yet your father was always said to be preoccupied. 

Your disdain for him grew, as well as the company he spearheaded that raked in profits from death and destruction. There was only one thing that gave you a small reprieve and a tiny amount of joy – a household name that was spoken more times than you could count – the source of all your father’s woes and troubles -  a thing that made you smile when nothing else would, and it was the curse of one Pirate King, his title like music to your ears: Hondo Ohnaka, the venerable bane of your patriarch’s existence. And now, here he was, in all his waggish glory. 

One particular hyperspace route, the Shaltin tunnels, ran straight through the Sertar sector, home to Florrum and situated deep within the Outer Rim territories. No matter how many times or how many ways your father tried to deliver his goods to their respective buyers, it seemed the Ohnaka Gang was always there to disrupt his schedule. 

Though he never stepped foot outside his cozy office, more and more men died on route to Syngia Station nearly every day, all thanks to a notorious gang of miscreants. Although some did live to tell the tale, they came back empty-handed time and time again. Whatever wares were aboard those freighters became the personal property of one very crafty Weequay. The rush it gave you to see your father so distressed, the absolute glee you felt as you watched his veins pop out - it was exhilarating. 

It was like some kind of well-deserved revenge for all the wrongs he had committed, and for all those missed birthdays, holidays, and milestones. You loved seeing him so flustered and out of sorts. It was a reward for all the trouble you had to go through. 

For one, your mother was a rather lonely drunk, a lush for lack of a better word, and his absence only further drove her to the bottle. You blamed him for all life’s ails; your eldest brother remained an undisciplined, boorish loaf who wasted his life gambling, and you were stuck here on this Goddamn rock, though he would be the one to receive your family’s fortune in the event of your father’s untimely death.

For once, excitement had come to you. This man you suddenly wanted to kiss so badly had stepped foot into your life, and though he seemed to have no idea who you were or what was about to happen, you were trying and failing to remain calm. 

Still, that look of shock and awe, and something downright strange remained plastered on your face, the scoundrelly fellow shifting his body weight as he gave you an incredulous glance. He frowned, switching his attention down to the Toniray left in his glass. He finished it in one final swig, then made an observation as he studied the now empty flute. 

“I can… tell when I’m not wanted. I apologize for wasting your time. I shall take my leave of you,” he stated calmly while setting his vacant vessel down. 

You had to make sure; you could not let him scamper off, not without confirming his identity. “Wait!” you entreated, worried that you sounded a little too excitable. The Weequay’s eyes widened beneath his four-sided frames as he served you a questioning look, though it quickly dissipated, Hondo intrigued by this unexpected outburst. 

“Don’t go,” you half asked, half demanded of the trickster, your hand rising for you to return the Duros to you. “Bartender, another glass of Toniray,” you instructed, your eyes never once leaving the slanted, stormy gaze of the rogue just adjacent. You lightly touched his wrist as it lay limply against the bar top, fingers caressing the leathery skin that peeked from beneath the sleeve of his long coat. 

“Your mother sounds like an interesting woman,” you offered, motioning for him to take up residence at your side. “Join me?”

“Yes, dat she was. Dat. she. was.” His gloomy disposition melted before your very eyes like ice in a glass, though there was a pause; it was as if he was ruminating on some time long since passed. 

“Who am I tu deny you?” he finally quipped with a sweep of his forearm beneath his ribs. The knave bowed in a gesture of goodwill before he rose to take up a nearby stool. “And since you asked so very-very nicely-” he started, flipping his other arm right side up. Your teasing hand was involuntarily repositioned to lay within the center of his palm, not that you minded. “-how can I say no?” 

You endeavored to begin your impromptu interrogation without him noticing, though you were so antsy it was a wonder that you could stay still in your seat. You watched, charmed by his every movement, chewing idly on your bottom lip as the former pirate king appreciatively took his beverage from its resting place. 

He savored another sip, swirling its contents to absorb its aroma like a true connoisseur. You casually wondered how many wines this man had sampled in his lifetime, though he interrupted your train of thought before you delved too deep. “I am impressed, my little beauty, dat you would go out of your way tu spend such a hefty sum on little old me,” he passively admitted. “Es dere a reason for your… generosity?” 

“Are you the Hondo? As in, Hondo Ohnaka of the Ohnaka gang?” you blurted out, unable to control your inquisitive nature and desiring to know right then and there if this was the man that had kept your father awake at night all those years ago - so much for playing coy. 

“Ah, so you have heard of me,” the Weequay beamed, once more that infectious smile overtaking the entirety of his face as his ego was given a healthy boost of self-esteem. “Though I am no longer-” he crinkled his broad nose in mock disgust “-acquainted with de gang who stole my name, yes, I am he. He es me. I am Hondo Ohnaka, en de flesh.”

“Fuck,” you exhaled in a whisper, the expletive pulled from your lips with a sigh that bordered lewd. You made to remove your hand from his, pressing your already crossed legs together as you distracted yourself by biting into the perfectly manicured nail of your index finger. 

“What’s she like?” you randomly thought to ask, but more so to sedate yourself. “The mother of a pirate king – what kind of woman was she?” 

The thief was taken aback. Though not opposed to talking about his dear, sweet mother, Hondo could not help but notice the odd reaction to the affirmation of his given name. His smile became more nuanced, the layer visible to the people in the room one of joviality, while an alternative cognitive process vested itself and presented as the tiniest twist in his upper lip. He stowed what he had learned; for now he would do his best to entertain you, his wandering gaze studying the shape of your body before his stony eyes lingered, focusing for one millisecond – without detection - on your crystal necklace. Eyes on de prize, he thought, though now he believed there to be a chance of gaining more than one type of prize tonight. 

“She was wise beyond her years,” he began in a somber, yet affectionate cadence, “and always offered sound advice. Dhough my childhood ded not consist of fun and games, she taught me all she knew, namely how tu swindle an easy target!” The Weequay dallied to see if he had captured your full attention. You did not try to hide the fact that you were already hanging on his every word.

“No, dere were no hugs or lullabies for me, no creature comforts, nor any luxuries, but what we ded have between us was love – or, at least, I tink so, for a short time later she sold me intu slavery – and I will never forget her en all my days. Without my poor, sweet mother, I would not be de man I am tuday! Tu her I owe my life, even dhough she… often tried tu get rid of me before dis, but I du not love her any less! She did de best she could and dat, little one, es all dat matters en de end.”

What he failed to tell you were the fine details: how both his parents were nearly destitute with many mouths to feed; how his mother had kicked him out on more than one occasion when feeling cross with him; how a religion he did not believe in forced him into a life not of his choosing, and all because his kin had decided he was the easiest to sacrifice thanks to some… plastic, talkingnovelty, some children’s toy! But Hondo was not stupid – despite what some may think – he knew well enough they were in it for the profit to be made. Perhaps it was the greatest lesson of all that his mother had taught him: never trust anyone, not even your own clan. 

Instead of basking in the finality of his solemn words, you jumped - which was borderline disrespectful – to the next topic on your list. You could always apologize for your abundant enthusiasm later if need be, but for some reason you doubted that it would be a problem. 

“What happened to your merry band of pirates?” you asked, brushing your dress shoe against the Weequay’s ankle before you could put an end to it. Hondo responded by taking up his glass with one hand, while the other shamelessly placed itself upon your knee.

He chortled dryly, giving your leg a squeeze that made your pulse quicken and your heart race. “Dat, my ravishing beauty, es a story not worth repeating.”

“Tell me another one instead? A different story?” you chirruped, scooching closer until you were but a hairbreadth away from the handsome scoundrel, hip parallel to hip. You felt daring enough to uncross your legs, purposely rubbing your silky thigh against his trousers through the slit in your dress. You gingerly batted your lashes, knowing full well you were taking on the role of flirt, yet unable to control your most base desire. Currently, it was to simply touch the man in any way you could, or in any way he might allow. 

“Hmm, yes,” he hummed, his bony fingers drifting lazily from the cusp of your knee to the beginnings of your thigh, “I can… tink of someting dat may … pique your interest. A tale of one of my many successful business ventures, perhaps.” 

“Please,” you cooed, leaning closer still for the curve of your shoulder to playfully graze against armored plating; wisps of your hair swept across his sensitive frills, though ironically you did not know anything about alien biology, much less Weequay. You purred out a tiny whisper of satisfaction as his hand trailed upward, the heat between your legs beginning to build upon itself in spite of you just having met this man. Though the smile he gave you was of cartoonish proportions, there was just something about it, not to mention the reputation that preceded him that was nearly causing you to come undone.

With elegant precision, Hondo set down his glass, callous digits curling to rise and stroke the underside of your chin as he gazed resolutely into your eyes. Then, he asked if you had ever heard of a particular arms manufacturer with a particular name. 

The aforementioned organization was the one run by your father. With your best sabacc face you shrugged, though the suspense was killing you. You were about to hear one of your father’s tales from the perspective of the Pirate King himself. You were doing your utmost to contain your zeal, among other things; it was absolutely serendipitous, a moment of happenstance. 

“You see, dis, company, dis, organization - whatever you want tu call et – must have had one of de dumbest persons en charge of deir logistics, because no matter how. many. times. dey sent deir fancy cargo ships off entu space, Ohnaka and his gang, we took what was rightfully ours. By rightfully, of course, I mean de… fact dat dey were en our territory, and once you step foot – or fly ship – entu Hondo’s very backyard, why, you have no right tu question de king en his own domain!”

“Mhm,” you muttered, your foot still fondling his ankle as you leaned over on your elbow against the bar. You observed his voice to be expressive and melodic, each word articulated eloquently despite his decidedly swift pace. He was just getting warmed up, yet you felt you could listen to him talk all night should it please him as much as it pleased you.

Hondo embraced the meat of your thigh with another soft squeeze before ever so slowly inching up once more. You reined in a lustful utterance, compressing your lips to form a line as you refused to give in so easily to your increasingly obscene impulses. 

He continued with his tale. 

“Et just so happens – on dis specific occasion – dat dese weapons were on route tu a Jedi general! I intercepted, not knowing any better, of course, claiming de very expensive, very important missiles for myself.” 

Hondo paused, taking another delicate sip of his Toniray as you blinked languidly, wanting him to continue as soon as possible. “You knew Jedi?” you asked, enthralled.

“Of course I knew Jedi! Hondo knows – well, knew – many, many Jedi en his time. Considering dis man I was speaking of, dis general, tu be my friend, I had a devious plan dat would work out en both our favors…” 

He trailed off; you squealed audibly in disappointment, a low, profoundly  resonate chuckle rising up from the pit of his throat to rumble just beside you. The ruffian had drifted closer, the tip of his flat nose nuzzling the smooth skin along your neck as it came to rest in the divot behind your ear. 

You shuddered reflexively, letting a faint gasp escape you as Hondo’s fingers toyed with the fabric of your dress. “So eager tu hear de rest, aren’t we, little one?”

“Yes,” you practically pleaded. You turned on your stool to fully face him, leaning in so close that you felt your lips might touch. The cunning rascal only grinned again, this time leaving his cup behind to lightly run a thumb crossways your pouty mouth, the rest of his wiry digits tenderly wrapping around the bend of your cheek.

“So eager… for someting else,” he stated, though that did not stop him from recounting more of his adventure. “Dis Jedi - trusting old Hondo as well he should - came tu me, realizing dat dis particular dealer was … unreliable. He knew I was a purveyor of many, many tings, and he assumed – correctly, might I add – dat I had connections tu get dese tings he wanted.”

The Weequay had pulled away from you just marginally, enough to look you in the eye again. You whined a nearly indiscernible sound of protest, your fingers drifting downward to clasp the hand that still relaxed along your thigh. Ever so slowly you began to guide it, Hondo releasing a pent-up breath through his nostrils as his smile took on a hint of mischief. He relaxed his arm and let you take the lead. 

“Dere were many battles,” he remarked boastfully. “Each one was more exciting dan de last. Dey upped deir security forces, tried tu establish an alternative route with little success, and de man himself, de hoity-toity richly rich guy even went so far as tu learn of my private comm frequency so he could scold me en, well, person!”

By this time, he had worked himself up, Hondo gripping your thigh a tad harder in his fervor. You carefully caressed the back of his hand. He seemed to settle, or at least enough to release the pressure behind his grasp, but at the idea of your father being so stark raving mad that he had solicited this wily pirate for a cease and desist forced you to suppress a grin as you presently returned to gnawing on your bottom lip. You spread your legs a little wider as you snuggled up close to the much older man, making sure your knees touched; he hummed a sweet sound of gratitude, coming off his high horse to speak at a more suitable volume.  

“Oh, he was … so, so livid… I thought for sure de guy would have a heart attack right den and dere, but fortunately, or maybe rather unfortunately, he ded not.” Your arousal currently trumped your amusement, even as a visual of your father in one of his disagreeable moods found its way into your thoughts once more. You nodded to inform him you were still being attentive, your free hand undertaking a courageous feat when you laid it upon his chest. 

You did the very thing he had sought to do all evening, yet not wanting to earn your distrust or ire from the outset; you toyed with the tiny charms that dangled about his neck as he craved a chance to touch the Life-crystal that lived around yours. He withheld any comment, even as you languorously traced a path down the cut between his firm pectorals. He gazed at you with heavy-lidded eyes behind his goggles before he dived back in, his voice having lost its ebullient tone all together to be supplanted by something a bit more sultry and seductive. 

“His eyes, dey bulged, as ef I had my boot on de back of his head. He spoke of profits lost and some personal grievances of his.” He tittered wryly, noticing your extremity felt warm to the touch. “My little flower, you’re blushing,” he noted matter of fact before finishing his thought. 

“I said tu him, my good sir, as my beloved mother always told me, du not put all your nuna eggs en one basket – et es bad for business. Ef you drop de basket, you have no eggs, however, should you spread your legs – I mean, eggs - out over many, many baskets… dere es more of a chance you will still have some tu-” his voice dropped emphatically lower, “-eat.”

You caught fire the same time you caught onto his innuendo regardless of how lascivious or ridiculous it had been. You finally took your innocent fraternizing to another level, ushering the Weequay’s lengthy fingers all the way up and beneath your skirt. 

A small breath hitched in Hondo’s chest though nearly undetectable. He tensed minutely before he relaxed. The only change in his outward appearance was the torsion of his cheeky grin into an expression that was on the verge of evincing scuzz and sleaze; it only further impassioned the inferno that was quickly catching ablaze within your loins. 

Once accomplishing your task, both your arms lifted to capture the pirate’s neck in a loose and lighthearted hold. You dangled somewhat awkwardly around his shoulders, your lips daringly planting a soft peppering of kisses across his weathered cheeks and then reverently across his mouth; his bottom lip was so full, so plush. You could not help but spend an extra moment there, gently pressing your teeth into his flesh. 

Hondo sighed in yearning, enjoying the inundation of spontaneous affection, so long it had been for a woman of your caliber, or any woman at all, to pay him any mind. Perhaps it could be blamed on the reality his majesty kept tucked away inside; the reality where he no longer tried to keep close to anyone for fear of what the future might bring later down the road. Too many times had the Weequay allowed his heart to reside unprotected on his sleeve, and whether it be men, women, his rambunctious band of outlaws, or the fading memory of a once great love, he dare not tread that path again, or walk that line so closely to the edge. 

But, he had to remember, you were just a woman. A woman with a valuable and priceless jewel hanging around her neck; one that he wanted, and he still thought – though his thoughts were now heavily clouded – that he could use your rapacious neediness to receive an undue windfall, and just in time, for he had debts to settle.

No one seemed to pay you any mind, the rapscallion Sriluurian taking your more than obvious hint to brush the tips of dusky fingers along the silken fabric of your panties. He exuded a hushed moan, your sex having already left a moist outline from where your arousal spilled over to dampen your undergarments, but so heavenly a thing it was, the pirate had no complaints to offer but a semblance of praise instead.

“My dear, you are-” he whispered delightedly, “-so… unbelievably… wet.” 

You nodded, kissing him again in tiny, unhurried spurts directly on the mouth, your hips rocking gently forward to encourage further exploration beneath your dress. 

He obliged, Hondo gingerly teasing your already soaked cunt by staying above the thin strip of cloth that guarded your aching sex. His touch was so featherlight it simultaneously infuriated and stimulated you to beseech him for something more. 

“Hondo,” you breathlessly announced his name, “come with me,” you implored him, your voice a whine against his lips as you covertly slipped your tongue past ivory and gold to lap at tongue and teeth.

“Mm, darling …” The pirate’s words were temperate, spoken between playful licks and nips.  “Tugether? At de same time? I would love tu,” he insinuated artfully. “I also du not mind waiting my turn.” 

The Weequay’s dexterous digits slid your panties to the side, his last three fingers gathering the fabric as his thumb discreetly aided his index in parting your velvet folds. He exhaled into you, a wanton groan escaping him in muted notes as he saturated himself in your warm slick. 

He took his time, glossing your sensitive clit with the pad of a surprisingly soft thumb as he slid his stool closer to yours. A wave of all-encompassing desire surged through your core as you emitted a prurient gasp; it shortly devolved into a piteous mewl of pleasure, and the scoundrel had barely touched you. The music was thankfully loud enough - and the barkeep too busy serving others – for anyone to discover what was truly happening. From an outsider’s perspective, you may have looked like two lovers kissing, and perhaps it was not far from the truth.

“Oh, God, fuck,” you murmured shyly against scarred and sand-worn lips, though they were still so tantalizing and palatable. A bassy hum commenced, reverberating in such a way it immediately soothed you, despite it transitioning into a throaty chuckle. The scamp had begun to work precise, intricate circles around your swollen pearl.  

“Not a God, sweet one, but de thought es appreciated,” he retorted before bringing the conversation back around. “I… never finished my story,” he informed you in an indolent tone, Hondo having pulled away from your mouth to grace your neck with downy kisses, the Weequay continuing where he left off, even as he nursed off the taste of your skin and surreptitiously drove you toward an orgasm; he hardly exerted any effort in the process.

“You see, it was den de Jedi paid me tu deliver weapons tu dem.” More kisses were sprinkled delicately along your jaw. “I skimmed off de top – a finder’s fee, ef you will - for every freighter I intercepted.” 

The patient swirling beneath your skirt forced you to grip both sides of the pirate’s foppish lapel as you suppressed what would have been a rather crude noise. You had a sudden, powerful need to press your mouth against his, your intense hunger nearly consuming you as he unapologetically persisted in delighting you in public; you were practically strangers, yet he felt so familiar to you. 

“Soon, I had a great deal of firepower at my disposal, and quite a lot of credits tu my name.” The Weequay cradled your cheek as he trailed his wandering lips toward yours again. “I was one of de most feared and infamous pirates in all de galaxy,” he claimed, his voice dropping in volume once more as he reminisced. 

“You still are,” you panted, voice quavering as you were so close to the edge, so close to coming already that Hondo was brought back to the present moment by your words. He positioned his palm beneath your chin, winding his spindly fingers around its point as he forced you to refocus and look him in the eyes.

“So sweet of you tu say.” Your tongue slithered back inside his mouth, Hondo’s a roiling thick, black muscle that danced around yours with such enthusiasm that it drove you to the brink, a lust filled cry quickly cut off as he waded farther down your pharynx. It was an attempt to pacify you, Hondo not wanting to cause a stir and create a cause for gossip – you were a notable woman, after all.

His stratagem worked; you came quietly, pitiable whimpers and caught breaths engulfed by the thief as if sucking your soul from out your body while he deepened the kiss even still. His free hand massaged the back of your neck and shoulders as you descended back down to earth, or rather asteroid, from off your peak. What you did not detect or even feel was his unfastening of the chain that bore the weight of your favorite charm; it had occurred with such mastery that his expert movements had gone unnoticed. At some point the pirate had pocketed the Life-crystal from its place along your throat, and you were none the wiser - not at first.

“I want you,” you brazenly admitted once some vestige of sanity returned to you. “I need you, Hondo Ohnaka, my Lord, my Liege, my Pirate King,” you crooned airily between more furtive, wistful kisses. “Please,” you implored, “don’t make me beg,” you urged, the soft press of your lips breaking away to gather just below his ear.  

Perhaps this time the man felt a little out of sorts himself, maybe, just maybe, not expecting your affection for him to run so deep so quickly. Of course, that was not to say that this sort of thing had not happened many, many times before! This was not Hondo Ohnaka’s first. jump. into. hyperspace - not to detract from the absolute satisfaction he felt wholly within – but he never once grew tired of having an attractive sentient pine for more of his winsome company. 

“Ah, you are a go-getter. I admire dat,” he conceded, burying himself in the crook of your neck as he returned the gesture, interspersing more physical shows of adoration in the form of pecks across your collarbone. “And… just what would you do with me?” he asked, not bothering to disengage from the task at hand.

“Treat you as the king you are,” you said without missing a beat. “Let me show you,” you offered as you pushed off your stool, the Weequay’s hand being returned to him as it slipped out from beneath your skirt. You slid forward, interlocking your fingers amongst his, drawing that dexterous appendage toward your face before your tongue snaked out. You licked the remnants of your own slick off the devil’s ribbed digits as you moaned a salacious little sound; it took Hondo’s very breath away. 

The charmer found that he himself was entranced, beguiled by your display, losing himself in the sensation of your mouth around his finger. In fact, he was semi-speechless, which seldom happened, if at all, angled, achromatic eyes watching intently until you finally had the decency to free him from your spell. 

“Et es… hard tu reject such a… compelling argument,” Hondo tremulously muttered, his oblique hues never once leaving you as you trailed your tongue across your upper lip and top row of teeth. You cast a sultry glance, retaking the scoundrel’s hand as you began to pull, convincing the man to get up from off his rear and follow you. 

“Are you sure you’ve thought dis through?” he asked more out of curiosity, pondering the cognitive operation that led you to make such a rash decision. It definitely wasn’t because he was worried, knowing you may soon realize your beloved Life-crystal had suddenly gone missing in his notoriously thieving presence. 

One might say that question was meant more for himself. While more often than not flying by the seat of his trousers, on occasion the madman had a dastardly plan. In this case, he had premeditated only as far as this, not expecting or accounting for your very flattering and pleasantly surprising gusto toward his person.

This wasn’t to say he could blame you – Hondo was well aware of his physical attractiveness and that his reputation was known far and wide for many reasons - though it was a bolster to his confidence, nonetheless. He found the answer to his query was a nonverbal one as you had made it a point to steer him in the direction of the cantina doors, the pirate playing along for he was intrigued, on top of other things.

“No, but where’s the fun in that?” you replied on your way to the exit, stealthily relaying an order by the single press of a particular button on your wrist comm -- it summoned the immediate attention of your driver, signaling that you were ready to leave this place and expected your hovercar to be waiting at your leisure. Otherwise, you maneuvered between tables, chairs, and other bar goers, all the while actively encouraging your amused captive to stay close by your side. He indulged you, the dark chortle that impishly resounded behind closed lips threatening to loosen your already slack grip on what little composure you had left.

“Ah, a woman after my own heart,” he professed in response to your gratifying answer. “I find dat a bit of spontaneity en life es good for de sou-”

Hondo did not have time to finish; you had both made your way past the double doors. Urgently, you pulled him toward you, pressing a firm kiss upon his mouth.  His words died in his throat, dissolving into nothing more than a docile moan, his arms slowly rising so that both his hands might find their way to rest gingerly on either side of your pretty face. The tenderness of this singular act made your heart pump faster; you slowly drove him backward the two paces it took to reach one of the many panes of transparisteel that lined the building, the viewports of this bar extending beyond the height of the average man. 

He took it all in stride, allowing you to have your way; what would be the reason not to? He pondered this as his decorated fingers skirted the curve of your jaw to apply themselves just behind your delicate little ears, drawing your exquisite visage closer as he finally made contact with the window just behind thanks to your forthright escort. 

“Mn, my lovely little bird,” he cooed against your lips, “you make dis old Weequay feel wanted,” he confessed, perhaps permitting himself to be too vulnerable. It was no secret, or at least no secret to him, that he often craved the fellowship of some comely creature, or anyone at all. His was now a lonely life, traversing the galaxy in whatever way might suit his fancy, whimsy being the sole directive that propelled him from place to place.

Of course, that is exactly the opposite of what he told himself. Yes, he had lost his crew, his men, his fortress, his credits, his women, and even his Kowakian monkey-lizards! But!— he did not need them, or so he told himself. Hondo was more than the sum of all these things put together! He was a man who had accomplished so much already! And he was still… relatively young, there was still time, and perhaps he could right his reputation – for all the good it did or did not do him – to not be seen as a pirate, but a legitimate business owner with a new place carved out for him among the history books.

Still, at that moment, it did not quell his ache for this to somehow not be too good to be true as you pulled away, looking the Weequay in his uniquely askance eyes. 

It was there with Hondo pressed against the wall of glass that you saw your own reflection from the corner of your vision. Pleased that you did not appear too disheveled after the sordid affair inside, you did a brief double take as you realized your favorite piece of jewelry had gone missing. You paused cursorily before gazing back at him, a playful smile exhibited despite just learning that you had been robbed. 

“That’s because you are,” you returned with another kiss, quickly taking up his hand to usher him toward the appearance of an airspeeder that had slid to a halt at the end of the walkway. Your chauffeur had already opened the automated door, revealing luxurious, cushy seats on either side and a tinted pane of transparisteel that would give you privacy, though you fairly trusted the man who would fly you to your destination. Still, you had plans he was not privy to. 

“This way,” you guided him, pulling Hondo along as you crawled in first. The scoundrel followed, taking the seat opposite yours as the door slid closed, pewter irises absorbing their surroundings as your guest inspected your opulent ride. 

“Dis es quite de vehicle,” he commented, perhaps feigning being impressed more than truly affected by its extravagant size and ostentatious interior. “Et es yours?” he questioned you curiously, though sure that he already knew the answer. 

You presently ignored him as you actuated the comm panel built into a nearby console, your voice calling out to your duteous wheelman as you gazed unwaveringly into Hondo’s eyes. “Home,” you instructed him, continuing to stare unapologetically with a hungry look as the thief leaned back and got comfortable, a saucy smile tugging at the edges of his mouth.

“You are … taking me home tu mother, yes?” he teased, knowing full well he was not the “take home to mother” sort, however, that was more or less the case.

The airspeeder began to move, joining the faint traffic that existed on this space rock, however fashioned to look as if its surface were hospitable to life. Synthetic trees whizzed by, accompanied by an assortment of lights as you zipped past The Esplanade. It was a pedestrian thoroughfare known for its fine shopping and dining, though you did not let that distract you as you persisted in admiring your catch. This time, your study of the Weequay was once more complemented by a nibble to your bottom lip. 

“You are clearly awestruck by my illustrious presence. Of course, dis es tu be expected. I completely understand. Aldhough, considering you were not shy en de cantina, I thought perh-”

You whisked forward, nimbly placing your knees on either side of his muscular thighs as you came in to straddle his lap. You planted yourself firmly astride him, both arms reaching up for your explorative fingers to wind their way between his frills as you moved in to kiss him once again; your need for the pirate was voracious and quite possibly unquenchable, yet so sudden was its onset. 

Hondo had laughed as you approached so deliberately, though the sound of his amusement was cut short as your tongue snuck its way inside his already opened maw just for the sake of another taste. The rogue’s gaiety at once quieted, only to be replaced by a receptive moan as he settled in with you against the posh seating of your transport. 

“Dat es de spot…” His comment was muffled by your kiss, Hondo reveling in the gentle caress of your human fingers as they danced between the sharp barbs along his jowls.

You abruptly halted your barrage. “I know you pilfered my necklace,”  you whispered against his supple lips without further elaboration. 

He froze, as if caught in a hovercar’s high beams, the shoulders and neck of the Weequay stiffening as your hands found their way down, down, until your fingers casually wrapped themselves around his throat. Your thumbs worked a pattern against his tough and scaly skin, though perhaps the charming devil may have thought you were planning to choke him right then and there. 

He laughed again, this time nervously, his head marginally tipping back as his gray eyes regarded you behind his goggles. He kept a blaster on his person, after all, though it would be a shame to have to use it on such a seemingly defenseless woman. Ah, but he knew better than to fall for that! Yet, he took his chances. Danger was as alluring as it was … dangerous.  

“I was… hoping you would not notice,” Hondo admitted with a kind of passive defeat, his musical voice having lowered an octave and holding within it a modicum of what you thought might be shame, or guilt.

“It’s an honor,” you teased, humming against his mouth; it was contorted in his blatant bewilderment as you slyly swept your tongue across his own, so warm and sweet. You could not help it; you gently gyrated your hips as you pressed your clothed sex against his loins, the heat in your core building as you sighed out a contented, airy breath.

“I…” he began longingly, Hondo transported back to salacious thoughts. Your provocative position across his lower half was not helping matters, as he was caught between being somewhat flabbergasted and highly aroused. 

“I don’t care,” you assured him softly, your hands sliding down the pirate’s throat to brush past the armored plating of his crimson coat. Your fingertips trailed along the intricate filigree-like pattern woven into its fine threads, swirling to match the shapes, until you arrived at his gaudy belt buckle. The texture of its design was cool against your skin. 

“Dat es … wonderful news …” he barely managed as the width of your splayed palm serried itself between you. You carefully groped the bulge that had begun to form beneath his trousers, nearly moaning outright at the feeling of it twitching in response to your measured touch. 

Hondo himself took a moment to recoup, releasing a pent-up breath. He was not surprised you had caught on, he had only hoped it would have been after he had made a hasty getaway. Of course, agreeing to accompany you elsewhere was his first mistake.

Et's dese little details dat will get you entu trouble every time, he mused. 

“You mean tu say… dat I may keep et?” he asked, perplexed. Your lips had already found their next target; they planted themselves one time after another across each raised line that was etched into his neck. He crooned out a little noise - you had never touched a Weequay before this night, and you were so very curious as your fingers tenderly kneaded the now fully swollen protrusion flexing against your palm.

“Yes,” you murmured, working your way up and over beyond his distinctive frills to administer another round of sensual kisses to the striated flesh of his angular cheek. From there beyond, you traveled to meet his lips once more, skirting the surface of his bottom rung with your teeth as you silently begged for a quick admittance. 

The once great pirate king chuckled lazily as his weight slightly shifted under your own, Hondo’s hips rolling faintly beneath your grasp as he admired the sensation of your tepid hand cradling his cock. Still, it would be neglectful if he did not admit he was very, very, skeptical, the scoundrel hoping to remain mindful of the situation at the same time you had decided to deliciously squeeze his dick – it made everything ten times harder and in more ways than one.

“Ut-ut-ut,” he intoned quietly, feeling a pleasurable ache flooding his senses as your index finger had found its way to the slit at the head of his cock. “Wait-,” he began, “-but et es worth at least two mill-”

“Five million credits,” you cut him off, speaking directly into his mouth before your eager tongue worked its way past gold capped teeth to twirl around his own.

He attempted to continue to talk, even as you kissed him. “Dis es not some sort of trick? You are not pulling one over on old Hondo? I should have known better dan tu trust de intel I received!” he practically shouted, though you kept on with your mission as you replied.

“Hm? Mn-mn,” you responded, questioning exactly what he meant as you shook your head in the negative to indicate you were being honest about your intentions, unlike the pirate whose lap you were currently roosted in. 

“What intel?” you whispered along his still flapping lips, your occupied hand painstakingly aligning his erection along the outside of your already damp panties. You finally let go only to begin undulating your hips while you simultaneously massaged his cock through the seam of his pants.

Hondo gave a lecherous groan, such was the sensation of you rubbing so shamelessly across his hardened member, even if only atop your clothes. It was becoming difficult for him to think clearly, and to form words, his own hands finally coming to rest gently along either side of your waist as he endeavored to keep you still. 

“Dat…dat you are… so very, very rich, and so very, very bored.” He took a slow, deep inhale, attempting to contain his lust.  “Dhough now, I wonder ef dis was all a ploy tu incriminate me. Perhaps you plan tu turn me en? Du you… work alone? Where are we really going, little minx?”

You gently pulled away, muttering placidly into his intriguing, pointed ear. “I was bored-” you corrected him, “-and I am very, very rich,” you finished with a mischievous smile, slightly intensifying the rhythm of your hips. 

In the midst of confessing your financial status and attesting to your continual ennui, your arms rose for you to remove the backs to both your earrings; they were fashioned from Krayt Dragon pearl and as a pair worth a hundred thousand credits each. You collected them in one hand as your other collected his, placing them directly in the center of his open palm. 

“Take these, too,” you offered as the intense heat in your belly further expanded, the friction from the outline of his hard-on luring a tiny whimper to the surface as you leaned back in, both arms now encircling the Weequay’s neck and head as you pushed him forward, giving him full access to your breasts.

Hondo found himself being smothered by a pair of luscious, humanoid tits; he favored them - as seemed liked the natural thing to do; his species was also endowed with such a gift – he was very familiar. Weequay, though considered to be reptilian thanks to their evolutionary adaptations - including blaster-resistant scales - were warmblooded. The women were proof of that. And, just like other warm-bloods, you had those things that were so soft, pliable, and hypnotizing. 

The pirate did not complain as his oxygen supply was momentarily cut off, though he gave a muffled, somewhat exaggerated chortle as he pocketed the earrings, letting his guard down just a little more as he used both hands now free to compress those doughy objects against either side of his cheeks and not his frills – stabbing you with the spiky protrusions that grew out of his face seemed like it would ruin the mood, to put it mildly.  

“Oh, you are a naughty, naughty thing, ah?” His question was suppressed by the fleshy mounds of your chest, the man having begun to carefully work them between his adroit digits as you felt a gentle nip that made you chirp. This only triggered the pirate to titter throatily, the flat of his broad tongue licking a stripe between the cleft of your cleavage.

“I love an enterprising woman who knows exactly what she wants-” he complimented, “-and how tu get et.” 

Following this bout of praise, Hondo lifted one breast from the confines of your dress to be revealed, the scoundrel’s unexpectedly well-kempt-for-a-pirate’s teeth placing your sensitive nipple between them. He nibbled ever-so-slightly before intaking it to suck, the rhythm of his tongue causing you to gasp as you continued to grind against the firm outline so perfectly arranged - it was pushing you toward your second orgasm of the evening - you had no shame. 

You continued to clutch at the back of his head as you rocked slowly across his lap, your breath quickening as he skillfully sought out his reward; the little noises you made were more than enough to stoke the fire in his heart, the Weequay’s suckling of your teat becoming more nuanced and refined with every small reaction your body gave.

“You’re so good at that; don’t stop,” you murmured readily, the scoundrel obliging as he kept his pace. 

Within moments, you had edged your way to the cusp of pleasure once more. This time, Hondo allowed you to vocalize as you cooed for him such pleasing sounds, riding the wave to its end before you perceptibly relaxed. 

The pirate unlocked his jaws, adjusting your rack for you as he refitted them where they belonged. He made a flippant comment to boot, though meaning no ill-will; he was just surprised, and maybe a tiny bit proud of himself.  “Well, dat was easy.”

You grinned as you pulled away, not having time to respond as your journey came to its end. Now properly tousled, and more aroused than ever, you crawled off his person as the door began to open to reveal the path that would lead you to your home. 

“We’re not finished,” you assured him, hopping up from your seat and exiting the vehicle. Hondo hesitated, as his erection had yet to subside, though he peered out to admire the lush, artificial foliage, the sprightly water fountain, and the ornate stairwell he would have to climb in order to reach a set of decorative double doors. It was more extravagant than his old fortress back on Florrum, akin to a palace, or a compound – not something as rinky-dink as a mere mansion!

“Well, well, well, es dis de Fountain Palace of Hapes? De … Castle of Per'Agthra, perhaps?” the pirate joked, finally exiting the hovercar so that your driver could attend to its proper storage. Your family had many modes of transport to their name, this airspeeder only one of them, not to mention the SoroSuub Personal Luxury Yacht 3000 parked at this planetoid’s northern pole; it could be ready to go at a moment’s notice.

“This is where I live,” you stated plainly, using all of your self-control to keep your mitts off him as two attendants came forward to offer their assistance. None was needed, so you began to shoo them away with a dismissive wave, the other hand reaching out to clasp Hondo’s bony fingers as you guided him onward and up into your family’s ridiculously prodigal home. 

“Time for a tour,” you asserted lasciviously, your voice having dropped a note lower as you dragged him beyond the doors splayed open for you by a man in a crisply ironed suit. They only needed a small push before the mechanics took over, yet the theatrics and the aesthetics of an old-fashioned door had been your mother’s idea.

A woman waited for you once they had parted, though she was not your matriarch. She was the caretaker of your vast property – a housekeeper of sorts - an Arthurian with white hair who wore gloves upon her hands as was her species’ custom; she would only make eye contact with you whilst speaking as to her any other time was considered rude.

“You did not inform me we would have a guest,” she remarked, her gaze diverting to silently judge the manner of dress of the person at your side. She then turned back to you, most likely noting your rumpled appearance by the slight scrunching of her nose. “I was not prepared. My apologies.”

“Greetings, Madam,” Hondo began, moving to take a bow as he of course assumed that everyone would be interested in knowing more about him. In your heart, you knew he was not wrong, but it would not serve you in the here and now. 

“I am-”  

“-This is… Orb Orenk,” you interjected. The look the man gave you indicated he was affronted, just as you had feared.

“I was asked by father to retrieve him from Club Corusca. He is a new business associate of his,” you lied, hoping that she might buy it.

This woman, who was so loyal to your father that she knew his schedule like the back of her hand, gave the perfectly polished floor a peculiar expression, finally raising her eyes to look into your own once more. “Your father, last I checked, has been delayed. He will not arrive for some two rotations,” she finalized.

“Oh, well, then I suppose I shall have to entertain him,” you shrugged, taking up the Weequay’s hand again as you began to escort him past the massive foyer and into a large hall. You could feel the Arthurian staring at the back of your head as you made your way, just happy that she had kept her peace for now, even if she did not believe you one iota. 

This was your home, you rationalized, though she was like its eyes and ears. At least you felt safe in the fact your father would not return for a few days’ time. The only thing that had you worried was the possibility of her recognizing your guest of honor, though so far so good, and you were at this point bound to take your chances.

Presently, however, Hondo was barely hiding his indignation as you tugged him along behind you, though somewhat distracted by all the attractive, valuable objects that were on display, as your abode was fashioned with all sorts of expensive things. 

“I daresay I am wounded. Dat was uncalled-for,” he lightly scolded, “are you now embarrassed of me?” he questioned, pondering on your reasoning for giving your housekeeper a false name when you had embraced him back at the cantina for who he was.

In reality, Hondo knew what it was like to have a need to hide your identity very, very well! Still, it did not hurt any less, for his reputation was the one thing he still had left to him.

Not that it was a good reputation. He had been labeled a brigand, a rogue, and an all-around scoundrel! This was of course in addition to a smuggler, a conman, and a pirate! 

As if this were all negative! A. very. unfair. assumption! Hondo Ohnaka had honor! And he was many, many things all at once, some of them more unsavory than others, and some, well, just came with the territory.

But he was also a lover, a poet, and a strategist! For now, he was a pouter, jutting out his bottom lip as he was currently offended. Once you had him far enough away, you paused, turning to face him.

Oh, that look. You heart sank as he stared at you behind timeworn transparisteel. You leaned in and took the base of his jaw in your hand, your fingers bypassing and weaving between his distinguished frills as you caressed the Weequay’s cheek with a back and forth stroking of your thumb. 

“No,” you breathed out, overcome once more with lust as you pressed your lips to his. You trailed tender kisses along his mouth and to either corner before imparting your true feelings. “I don’t trust her, that's all.”

“And yet… you trust me.” Hondo’s expression transformed into a wide, shit-eating grin as he turned his head to kiss the center of your palm. He took up your hand, then planted another across the back of it. 

“How very interesting,” he stated as his confidence returned.

To be fair, his confidence had not strayed very far, and Hondo was always one to bounce back quickly, no matter how awful the circumstances. Besides, this had been a rather small slight to his ego in comparison to anything else he could recall.

Still, he could not help but wonder about you, his grin broadening as you stepped closer, the devil playing submissive as you backed him in against the nearest wall.

“I am… sensing a pattern,” he said smugly, allowing you to dot the underside of his throat with a sprinkling of adoration; you slowly inched your way up and over his chin, offering your tongue once more. 

The pirate accepted, prompting you to moan softly against his warm and wiry lips. Your fingers grappled with his coat as he took to groping your right breast. His other hand drew you in by the small of your back, his brand of strength gentle, yet so very compelling; it caused you to practically melt against his robust frame. 

You wished this moment would never end, and perhaps it might have gone on for quite some time, had two giggling maids not rushed past you in the corridor. They attempted to shield their eyes the best they could to give you some semblance of privacy, though their incessant whispering accompanied them until they vanished around the corner.

You abruptly tore away, Hondo immediately adjusting his ensemble to remain at his most presentable. He swiped a thumb across where a tingling sensation lingered, then gave you another award-winning smile. “Et es… so hard tu find good help dese days, yes?”

“Hurry,” you persuaded him once more, towing him along in the direction you were desiring to go.

The pirate conceded, though he would not do so without giving you an earful of sound advice. “Ap-ap, my dear. As my sweet mum always used tu say, ‘rushing es a form of violence. Be quick, but du not hurry.’ Life es… so short, after all. At least, dat es what I keep hearing.”

“And I’m impatient,” you replied, having guided him to another wing of your absurdly large home only to pull him into a turbolift that would usher you to the third floor of your abode.

In the space of time it took for you to hear the chime, you kissed him three more times, your hands gliding over his stalwart form. From his taut abdominal muscles to the sharpness of his hips and down the meat of his thighs, you only paused to cup his groin; his cock was once more enlivened by a single touch of your playful fingers. 

“Are you sure you aren’t just a little eager?” you asked in a mellow, teasing tone of voice.

The scoundrel laughed huskily; a sound you could become addicted to, so melodious and dry, its intriguing vibrations once more causing shivers to trickle down the length of your spine. Everything about this man, despite his connection to your father, demanded that you make love to him until you passed out from exhaustion. 

And that was exactly what you planned to do. But first, business.

“You may be… ontu someting, yes?”

On that note, the lift opened to reveal another hall. You would have kissed him again, but you would wait to do so behind closed doors – there was a particular set that had long ago crossed your mind – and for more than one reason. While it made sense to take him directly to your bedroom, you had a few pit stops you wanted to make along the way.

Finally, you made one such stop, enticing the Weequay into your father’s favorite room of the house: his study and personal library.

Not sure that you had gone unnoticed upon entry, for the moment you did not care, Hondo gazing around the room and up toward the vaulted ceiling where there was a skylight that gave a clear view of the stars. 

Although not obvious from first glance, Oseon’s business and residential sectors were encased in a kind of bubble. The gravity, air, and flora of this planet were all of an artificial variety. Still, it was an impressive thing to be able to look straight up into an expanse of black with only the dim twinkling of faraway stellar objects to break up the monotony.

“Your family certainly spares no expense,” Hondo remarked, glancing toward the direction you had wandered off in. At this time, you were removing a most splendid work of art from off the wall, unveiling to Hondo and to yourself a safe deposit box built right into its surface. You had seen your father open it many times and had memorized the code, knowing that sealed inside were some of his most valuable and prized possessions. 

The contents were at once revealed; held within was an assortment of rubies and gemstones, diamonds, pearls, and more Life-crystal fragments, not to mention credits of the highest denomination, gold and silver – it was a veritable treasure chest! These items you gathered in handfuls, carrying them back to where Hondo stood curiously watching before you shoved both money and jewels straight into his pockets.

Hondo was dumbstruck, and maybe a tiny bit concerned, not used to someone so willingly parting with their wealth and for seemingly no good reason. He chuckled anxiously, then cleared his throat, addressing you as you walked back to get another round.

“What es de meaning of dis? Not dat I am… complaining, by any means,” he added as he dipped his fingers down into his coat. He withdrew a fistful of the riches you had so unceremoniously stuffed there without a word of explanation, admiring them, the way they sparkled; the heft of their weight in his hands; the price he knew he could get for them from the right buyer, though he did not let himself get carried away with his grandiose daydreams -– not yet. Hondo was sure he needed to keep his wits about him. This was all so very peculiar. 

“I’m paying you for your services,” you stated as you returned to shove more jewelry and credits into his boundless pockets, both in front and within the lining of his coat. He balked at that, placing a hand against his chest as the other still held a wad of pretty stones, giving you the most offended look that he could muster.

“Hondo es not a common whore! He cannot be bought with-” He paused, thinking over what he was about to say. It seemed he thought better of it as you began to smatter his throat with zealous kisses. 

“OK, yes, maybe I can, but dis es highly irregular. Not dat I would put a price on my head, dhough many, many others have already done dat.” He pondered on the past for a moment, remembering a singular wanted poster he had seen in passing with his face on it. It had read he was only worth seven thousand credits! Seven! That had been absolutely uncalled-for! Hondo was worth far, far more than that! 

Not to mention, the image of Cad Bane right next to his handsome mug read one million, which the pirate had found ridiculously outrageous! If anything, they were on par and deserved to be wanted - equally! 

You had ignored his ramblings as you began to work your way down his neck to the split of his tunic, ever so softly pressing your lips against his unique skin. Here you placed more kisses, one after the other, as he continued to talk. However, you did not mind, as his voice alone could make your heart flutter, so musical were the notes that rose up from his larynx. 

“But, as my mother always told me, son, du not look a gift fathier en de mouth,” he concluded, looking down into your eyes as if he had just realized you were still in the room. 

Then, Hondo noticed you were slowly getting farther and farther away as you sank toward the floor, the Weequay’s face tilting at an angle as he studied you from beneath his distressed goggles. The villainous grin he gave you only quickened your haste, your fingers diligently working at the same time your knees found carpet, unhooking his trousers to reveal the man had gone commando.

You involuntarily gasped at the sight, having felt it through the thin fabric of his pants, but not understanding the full potential of his anatomy until you saw it for yourself. 

The little sound you made had triggered the pirate; his grin only intensified. “Du not be frightened, little bird,-” he quipped, “-et does not bite.”

You hesitated a moment longer; it was stout, thick, and slightly above average, though it was ribbed in alternating patterns with the deepest grooves lining its base. You hummed a little sound of adulation before your tongue simply could not help itself; you clasped him by the hips with both hands as you prompted him forward. Using his assurance as an invitation, you painstakingly licked a stripe from the bottom of his shaft all the way to the head of his robust cock. 

The pirate shuddered, exhaling a haggard, broken breath of air. “Returning tu our previous topic of conversation, as far as mouths go-”

He had not finished his sentence before you encircled the tip of the Weequay’s foreign dick with your lips, lapping up the bit of pre-cum that had leaked from the slit at its head. Your mouth stayed cinched tightly around him as you ingested nearly the whole of his phallus, your cheeks hollowing out as you worked your way back up with a very deliberate, powerful suction.  

“Yours es-” He surrendered then, leaning back against your father’s ornate desk on the palm of his free hand, having hurriedly pushed his chair out of the way in the process. For someone who talked of not being in a rush, his haphazard movements had caused you to smirk, even with your mouth full. 

“Mmm,” you moaned, relishing the taste of him as well as the way his eyelids had begun to close as a most pleased expression had overtaken his handsome visage. You worked in a syncopated rhythm with your tongue, keeping him on his toes, but the up-down motion continued at a steady pace as you fluidly glided over each rib and ridge.

“-es quite…” It seemed as if he were still trying to carry on a conversation, one hand occupied by priceless loot while the other had decided to almost lovingly stroke your hair. This only encouraged you, the pucker of your mouth deepening as you slathered his dick with your spit. The Weequay finally dropped the jewels back into his pocket, gazing down at you once more as you unabashedly stared into slanted, lustrous grays. 

“Spectacular,” he finished, his other hand joining the first as he placed both on the back of your head with something tantamount to reverence. However you might describe it, it was gentle; he was not forcing you to go faster or deeper, his thumbs lightly caressing the base of your skull as he relaxed even more. 

It was also apparent he liked to watch, even as his eyelids continued to droop, Hondo finding himself lost in the sensation of your warm, inviting mouth working his cock as if he were a tasty treat that you could eat - one enjoyed in the heat of the summer on some sticky planet, or while on vacation in the tropics of Glee Anselm.

Now fully seated on the edge of your father’s work area, a particular thought sent a spark of joy into your heart - if only he knew whose cock you were sucking in his study. The look on his face would be absolutely priceless, worth more than all those jewels you had lined the pirate’s pockets with. 

Of course, should he really find out, his reaction would be extremely unfavorable. It was obvious this was happening entirely on purpose; you would not be able to come up with an excuse strong enough to save your life. You doubted your father would actually kill you, even in the throes of an anger so volatile he might tear the scoundrel limb from limb. Being his own flesh and blood had its benefits, but you would never allow any harm to come to this man, not while you were still alive.

This thought process increased your excitability, taking the time to  sit up slightly on your knees so as to get a better vantage. You paused in your veneration to allow his cock to slide out of your mouth; you kissed it tenderly before your tongue flicked teasingly across its bulbous tip, taking the time to situate yourself into a more comfortable position. 

The pirate had opened one eye, his breath slow and steady before it picked up again at the flutter of your tongue against the sensitive head of his cock. Hondo himself shivered, though his movements were exaggerated, the Weequay’s hand relocating itself suddenly as it came back around to snatch you by the chin. 

You stifled a gasp, though his gaze was so sharp and intense that you reflexively whimpered, his voice low and licentious as he stared penetratingly into your eyes. 

“Tell old Hondo what game you are playing, child.”  He had murmured his demand against your lips, the pirate having hunched over near to your level. You were unable to form coherent speech, so he pressed his mouth against yours that had been left immobile. It was an act of fiery passion that before this moment you felt nothing could quite match, the gruffness of his tone having caught you off guard. It had somewhat frightened you, to tell the truth, but the feeling was quickly offset by your bolstered arousal, as if you could possibly become any more turned on. 

Though he was considerably your senior, you were not a youngling, yet you took no offense, even as he was trying to demean you in some way. It was likely he still did not trust you, and you had not bothered to explain yourself or your bizarre gifts - you really could not blame him.

You forewent any elucidation and instead gathered up his girth in your hand as your fingers cinched carefully around it. You gave it a long lick in one fell swoop before intaking it back into the whole of your mouth and toward the far end of your throat. Then, you gently gathered his testes in the curve of your other hand, a warm palm massaging them with calculated enthusiasm.

Your head bobbed to-and-fro, alternating once more between up and down as you whined against Hondo’s cock, cognizant of the fact you may never get another chance at this. An almost imperceptible tremble vibrated through the Weequay’s core, it being exhibited by way of a quiver in his knees, the pirate digging his nails into your hair as those fingers still locked around your chin stayed stationary, though his thumb had begun to rub a pattern along your jawline.

“I… believe you tu be incorrect,” he stated arbitrarily, though it spurred your curiosity. “You are de one… who es…  servicing me,” he informed you between ragged breaths, Hondo feeling that he was near to peaking under your expert control.

“Mn, little bird, sing for me,” he pleaded in a voice softer and more melodic than before. “Et begs de question,” he whispered, that same thumb continuing to stroke your cheek as he rocked his hips forward in time with your head’s momentum. “Tell Hondo what he has done tu deserve all dis.”

You were thoroughly enjoying yourself, nuzzling into the rogue’s affections as you made lewd slurping sounds, engorging yourself on the blissful experience of making Hondo Ohnaka squirm and fidget amidst your charms. You could tell he was close; you wondered what the cum of a Weequay tasted like, but you would not find out, as at that moment the door to your father’s study slid open to reveal one of your personal attendants, a young woman who stood with her mouth gaping open as she took in the scandalous scene.

Yet, she was one whom you had bonded with, being so bored cooped up in this house. She was about your age, and you trusted her well enough, having often confided in her your secrets and relaying to her the latest gossip from about town. 

Still, it caused you to halt, jerking your head back for Hondo’s erection to vacate your throat. You wiped a drizzle of spit off on the back of your hand as you stared at her, wide-eyed. 

She stared wide-eyed back as Hondo blinked indolently, coming out of a stupor that had temporarily disarmed him, so sluggish and slow was he to recover from this impromptu visit that for a moment his genitalia remained outside his trousers before you hastily thought to aid him in putting it away.

You stood as Hondo finished the job, not having said a word for once, the woman creeping forward one or two steps inside. The door closed behind her; she seemed disturbed, but also worried, finally speaking to you after she had overcome her visible shock. 

“Miss! The Madam’s on the way! She’s bringing Jaina with her, and those little sandwiches!” she stated in a rush, her eyes darting to Hondo as he had finally risen to his full height, the Weequay looking out of sorts as he brushed off each sleeve of his coat in turn before joining you at your side.

“Thank you, Mara! Comm me should you see anything else!” you said, dashing behind you as the girl took a small curtsy and left just as quickly as she had arrived. Shouting at the handsome scoundrel who looked somewhat confused, yet also intrigued by the idea of sandwiches, you demanded he play along: “Quick! Pretend to look at books!”

“Pardon?” Hondo asked, nonplussed, the baffled expression intensifying as he turned to watch you dart back toward the open safe nestled in the wall.

“Pretend to look at books!” you repeated, referencing your father’s library that lined the walls with expensive and rare items printed on traditional paper.

“I would prefer tu try one of dese sandwiches dat was mentioned, or-” he paused for effect, strolling toward a bookcase regardless as he removed a volume from off the shelf. One wiry finger traced a path down its gilded spine. “-I could always go for something a little more… gourmet.” 

He smiled again, having recovered rather quickly, his mood once more bright and cheerful even though he had been denied a finish to what you had started. “Aldhough, finger food also has ets place.” 

You gave him a quick look, knowing exactly what he was referring to, though you were too enwrapped in your current task to be amused. Closing the safe deposit box, you reset the lock, quickly collecting the painting from where it lay against the wall to replace at just the proper angle. You stepped back to admire your work for a split second before scurrying across the room to join the rascal, taking up residence by his side. 

Hondo had just cracked the volume open, doing as you had instructed, feigning interest in what was written on its pages. You quickly made some shit up in your head just as the door opened, speaking to the pirate as if you had long been settled into conversation.

“You are correct, this particular book does date back to the time of the Old Republic,” you began as the white-haired Arthurian stepped into the room along with her accomplice, a woman of lesser status who carried with her a plate full of those tiny sandwiches Mara had decided to warn you about. “As you can see, they still practiced top edge gilt, which the edges of the pages are finished in real gold along the top of the text block-”

You cut yourself off, pretending to be surprised, as Hondo himself seemed genuinely to be so. There was more to you than met the eye, your expertise on such an obscure detail catching his attention as you rounded on the woman by the name of Hilre who was once again sticking her nose in your business where you felt it did not belong.

“Madam Hilre,” you said curtly, removing the book from Hondo’s hands as you closed it and returned it to its proper place. Hondo easily allowed this, taking the opportunity to utilize his infamous charisma. 

“Ah, we meet again, my good woman. And what es dis you have brought us?” He traipsed forward, plucking one of the perfectly cut sandwiches from off the plate held by Jaina, at once taking a bite and savoring its flavor. Hondo was legitimately hungry, after all. He had not had a scrap to eat since arriving at this rocky little asteroid. 

“Shawda Clubb!” he exclaimed as you came forward, looking directly at the Arthurian who, as was her custom, had averted her eyes.  “Et es truly delightful. De best I have ever tasted,” he emphasized, though you were unsure if he was telling the truth.

“Thank you, Hilre, but we do not require your services,” you said tersely, walking past her and around, “Mr. Orenk, allow me to show you the garden,” you lied, knowing very well what your next destination would be. 

“Certainly,” Hondo acquiesced, though he held out both hands to Jaina who still carried the full tray within hers. “May I?”

To your surprise he took the entire plate, leaving your servant dumbfounded as she stood there with an odd expression, dropping her hands down to her sides. She did not comment, knowing it was not her place, but looked to Madam Hilre for guidance, which she was quick to turn and watch as you made to take your leave.

“Shall I prepare a place for Mr. Orenk for the evening? If he is waiting on your father, and since he is delayed, he is to spend the night, yes?” she asked with a hint of suspicion in her voice.

Hondo paused mid-bite and looked at you. He shrugged his shoulders minutely before fitting the rest of the sandwich into his mouth. “Yes, of course,” you agreed before hurrying out and back into the corridor with the Weequay thankfully in tow. 

“Dese are quite delicious, you should try dem,” he said with a mouthful of food as you made your way back toward the turbolift at the end of the hall. 

“Tu de garden, den?” he asked, licking the edges of two fingers to clean the taste of the Manpha-fowl and nuna bacon off their tips. This tiny set of movements enthralled you, so set on the image of his tongue and what it might feel like down below that you erratically searched out the button to the second floor without so much as a glance in the direction of the control panel.

“No,” you breathily exhaled, stepping forward to remove the plate from his hands just as he took up another sandwich. Hondo decided three was enough, allowing you to withdraw the tray without protest, nibbling on the end as you salaciously whispered, “now for the main course.”

The pirate’s expression morphed into an impish grin as you were now back on the same page. 

“Well, et es about time.” He quickly finished his snack within the next two bites just as the door to the lift sprung open to reveal yet another hall. You placed the half-empty tray down on a nearby side table, picking up two other items: a set of solid gold candleholders. They were antiques, and worth a small fortune; you emptied them and then stuffed them inside yet another of Hondo’s many pockets.

“Ah?” he asked quite simply, though you were already dragging him down and to the left. 

You were feeling frisky, and perhaps a bit more headstrong than before, wanting to defile and defy the stolen riches around you as well as your family name. To cavort with pirates, and your father’s long held enemy at that - even if the notorious scoundrel was none the wiser - had you riddled with excitable, anxious energy. Not only that, you were dying to take this man to bed, but not just any bed - the best, most luxurious bed in all your home – the one belonging to your parents.

You paused your trek, Hondo nearly bumping into you as you listened for complete silence, though he had made a sound of mild reproach. “Are we playing hide and seek?” he asked with a questioning lilt to his voice.

“Shhh,” you encouraged him - despite the scoff he gave - to be quiet for just one moment. You were sure your mother was in the lounge downstairs, sipping her expensive wine and watching holodramas for lack of anything better to do. Although it was getting late, she was known for staying up all hours, and she often slept on the sofa in her clothes. 

Once sure there was no one else about, you took him to the suite at the end of the hall, shoving open one of the massive doors to reveal a room so large it may as well be an apartment in and of itself that rented for four thousand credits a month on Coruscant. 

“Well, well, well!” Hondo marched past you and toward the middle of the space, forgetting immediately that he had been lightly scolded. It gave you enough time to turn over a family holo-photo that was being projected on a table by the door. “Dis bed es big enough tu fit three of me, ah?”

“One will do,” you were quick to retort, gently pushing him forward with both hands, your palms flat against the lower part of his back. 

The man humored you, allowing himself to be ferried. “Yes, et es a fact you could not handle more dan one of me,” he quipped. “Dere es no shame en dat, my dear.”

He turned on you quite suddenly, a devious look that was new-to-you plastered across his angular face. It was safe to say he had caught on to why you were here, the corners of his eyes crinkling alongside the upward curve of his toothy grin. 

“After yo—” His face fell, as you had already begun to walk away in the opposite direction, Hondo having been prepared to usher you where you rightfully belonged – atop sateen sheets and plush pillows. However, you had other plans, only meaning to delay your coupling a moment longer by way of marching straight toward  another door.

It parted to reveal a walk-in closet of ginormous proportions, Hondo peeking his head in behind you as you stepped forward, the Weequay’s lips forming a solid “o” shape unbeknownst to you just behind your shoulder. 

“Your boudoir has a… boudoir?” he asked cheekily, noting the posh clothing and accessories that were housed within. Handbags lined one wall, and hats another. There was shelving for shoes of all kinds, including those typically for men. Hondo quirked his head, not guessing you would be one to want to adorn a three-piece suit, though many hung carefully ironed and arranged on hooks. 

“Ah, we lead a double life, du we?” The pirate sauntered forward, fingering the length of one of your father’s designer coats as you became busy opening various drawers and miniature cabinetry; these stylized boxes were designed to hold rings, necklaces, and things like solid gold cufflinks, or platinum tie clips – a plethora of exquisite items resided here – things that were never worn or used after their initial purchase. It was all for show, and a waste of money. You were determined to make a dent in your parent’s horde.

“It’s my father’s,” you offered with a laugh, collecting all manner of jewelry and trinkets that were pocket-sized. 

“I must say, his tailor es a being of unmatched skill,” the scoundrel admitted, rather admiring the pattern sewn into the rich emerald fabric he was fawning over. You distracted him by sidling up to his hip, hands burdened with more treasure being unloaded into any empty nook or cranny you could find upon his person. 

Hondo stopped to stare, encapsulating your wrist with a mild pinch of his fingers. Your eyes traveled upward progressively, coming to rest on his, so beautiful and expressive, yet now they were narrowed in apprehension as was the theme for this evening. 

“And would he… approve of dis?” the Weequay asked, his voice taking on a dour quality.

You shared eye contact for a few more seconds, thinking of how you ought to kiss him again, right then and there, the far off look in your gaze being replaced by a vampish smile. 

“No,” you responded plainly, sealing your answer with a frivolous giggle, marching past the knave to exit back into the main chamber of your parent’s suite.

Hondo’s own smile returned, spreading across his corrugated face like the rising of a sun at first light. He briskly followed you, commenting on your behavior. “Now I tink I am beginning tu… understand.”

You would not allow him to finish that thought, turning for your skirt to swirl around your legs as you clasped his hand, dragging Hondo toward the monstrous bed that lay positioned against the adjacent wall. It was the main feature of this elegant space, and it hardly saw any use as far as you were aware. With your mother always passing out on her chaise lounge, and your father being absent more often than not, you were sure this was the first time it would see any action since the dawn of the current decade. 

“Time to finish what I started,” you bawdily suggested. 

“Ap-ap-ap,” the pirate interjected, interrupting your plans when he drew you in, forcing you to spin on your heel to face him. “Now et es my turn, darling.” 

He released your hand, then pushed you gently, barely exerting any force. You took a tumble right onto the bed behind you; you laughed gayly, stretching your arms out toward the pirate, suddenly overcome by a rather playful mood. “Come to me,” you whispered. 

He took one step forward, and you scuttled one inch back, Hondo smirking as he drew ever closer. “Et es not I who will be coming,” he teased, “not yet, anyway,” he offered in a dry and passive tone. 

You watched in awe as he crawled atop you, the Weequay repositioning his coat so its tails would not get in his way. How had you lucked out so well? You remained captivated as he slowly worked his way down, the delicious weight of his body pressing into yours as he took the time to run his lanky fingers along the curve of your jaw. 

“A work of art,” he complimented, causing your cheeks to burn. 

“Flatterer,” you shushed him, a hand lifting for your forefinger to skim vertically down the Weequay’s textured lips. The man took up your hand and placed a tender kiss against the back of it, coolly maneuvering your wrist to a place just above your head. 

Hondo would hold you to this spot, fingers intertwined amongst yours, only gradually releasing you the farther and farther he journeyed down the span of your shapely form. Ah, but he knew you would not stray; you would not stop what was about to happen, for you had gone to such great lengths to readily seduce him. 

“But I am telling de truth. Should I hold my tongue?” he asked mischievously, expecting he already knew the answer to that question. “Or, would you prefer dat I use et?” he added, the undersides of his banded fingers taking to caressing the pliable meat of your thigh. 

His gilded teeth met with the fabric of your dress; Hondo hiked your skirt up, rising to gently reposition it by way of his mouth. A little shiver rode up your arms as you watched this intimate act, your anticipation only heightening every second that ticked by.

You bit your lip, chewing absentmindedly as you had become enthralled with every minute movement the pirate made, his current set being for long, lithe fingers to gingerly tug at the corners of your panties. 

“May I?” he inquired, asking for your permission. He was such a gentleman, you thought. 

“You needn’t ask,” you offered, words muted, heart thumping beneath a cage of bone as you witnessed the beginnings of the removal of your undergarments.

“As. I. suspected,” Hondo joked, kissing the upper portion of your leg. He would discard your underwear with a theatrical toss, the scent of your arousal engulfing his senses. 

Hondo was overtaken by an immediate desire to make you beg. 

Oh, he would bring you to the brink, to the edge of sanity; you would never forget his name – not that you could – remaining unparalleled and unrivaled to any subsequent lovers of yours for as long as you continued to live. 

Hondo would get comfortable, splaying his legs behind himself, lying flat on his belly with a sea of brocade and crimson waving out to either flank. Then, the ne'er-do-well briefly slipped his palms beneath your buttocks as he dragged you forward, hands sliding up each curve so that two wide thumbs could press back the lips of your labia toward the narrow, inguinal groove that connected abdomen to hip; he spread you open as you watched.

You practically moaned before he ever touched you, observing the thick, broad, black muscle that unfurled from the depths of his wicked mouth to taste you. A crafty tongue traversed the breadth of your vulva, artfully slow; it meticulously lapped a line to the cusp of your clit, the foppish freebooter kicking his feet as he felt the squirm of your stomach; the tightening of tendons and sinews, all a form of nonverbal encouragement and he had barely begun.

“Hondo,” you purred deliciously; your sweet adulation of his name was almost as tasty, this single mention spurring him to enliven his pace, but not by much. He was exacting when it came to this, doling out pleasure on his terms, his flannelmouth good for more than just weaving tall tales or boasting of his misadventures. 

“Yes, love?” he asked between masterful strokes, stopping to suck the pulsing pearl that craved attention, thighs quaking as your belly lurched, so close already. 

The villain paused, lifting his head, helmet rising first as beady, silver eyes zeroed in on your face contorted in the near midst of passion. He grinned fiendishly as you whimpered a complaint, ragged breaths exuded from lungs which expanded and contracted in rapid pants. 

“Don’t stop,” you implored him for the second time this evening, falling back to rest your head on your parent’s garish coverlet. Your fingers dug into the lavish, designer pattern as you twisted fine threads into stringent clusters inside your bunching fists. You languorously hiked a knee, letting it fall to one side as you stretched yourself wider, one hand unwinding to reach outward so that you could cup your lover’s cheek, slithering betwixt thorn-like frills to caress striated, tawny skin. 

“Iiii… du not tink I heard a ‘please,’” Hondo chided, feigning to be disappointed by your manners, or lack therefore, though he was already so fond of teasing you; you writhed exceptionally well, and the soft, well-placed caress of your hand alongside his face was a nice touch, to say the least.

“Please, Hondo, please,” you urged, hips grinding subtly into the sheets below as your body ached for more. 

The scamp simpered; he laughed a wry, cold laugh, Hondo taking the time to pluck two of his many golden rings off his long, spindly forefinger; they arrived in his pocket, beside all the other treasures stored there. He recalibrated his attention, once more dipping down below.

“Like music tu my ears,” he praised, voice dangerously low; words brazen. He tested you by carefully interring his ringless finger into the wet recess of your cunt, his tongue returning to its prior engagement before he had so shamelessly baited you to plead your case. 

A delicate flick across your clit paired with a succinct, patient gliding back and forth against the seat of your pleasure caused your limbs to insensibly convulse without your say; the tip would coil, applying a scant amount of pressure toward that special place, your belly gasping as you released the scoundrel from your grip to claw at bits of pillowy satin. 

“Yes, yes—” you uttered, voice restrained as you attempted to assuage yourself from making too much noise. You turned your head so that you might bury your face in bedding, Hondo once more lifting up to scold you.

“Ut-ut-ut! I want tu hear you, sweetheart,” the man boldly informed you, having so rudely taken his tongue away so that he could talk. You pouted like a spoiled youngling, ready to throw a fit if the Weequay would not let you cum, once more begging him to finish.

“Oh, please, Hondo— keep going,” you beseeched him in a most convincingly humble tone. 

“Hmn…” the bastard uttered, rather enjoying himself by denying you your finish. “I suppose et es de least I can du, no? For all de trouble you went tu, bringing me here and filling my pockets with such handsome, valuable treasures.”

“Yes, exactly,” you agreed, though to your dismay Hondo briefly disengaged. You almost cried out for him, though he did not stray too far, only readjusting.

“Aww, my sweet…You are breaking dis old pirate’s heart,” he proclaimed, though you were not any more reassured. “Let me not keep you waiting a moment longer,” he taunted playfully, his deft thumb placing itself atop your clit to swirl so, so slowly; so, so softly. 

Hondo massaged you with diligence even so, craning his neck to instead lap at your already slick sex, inserting the point of a lengthy onyx tongue between your velvet lips. He kissed you below the belt as if he were kissing another mouth; he was eager, industrious, and terribly unhurried, but it was his snail’s pace that pushed you to the verge, your imagination running wild as you had chosen to stare at the vaulted ceiling of your parent’s bedroom.

You could feel every aspect, every swipe, every inch of that roiling, dancing organ that made-out with your cunt as it probed and caressed you, your stomach jerking in that same telltale manner as he brought you to the brink.

You spoke his name, this time louder, not knowing who might be listening in, or even caring. Hondo did not bother to increase his speed; he kept things steady and on an even course; it almost drove you mad, the sound of your own blood rushing through your ears nearly drowning out the sound of your mother’s piercing shriek. 

She called out to you, shocked and appalled by what she was witnessing, a bottle of some expensive, imported wine clutched firmly in her hand. You had been midway through an orgasm, so unbelievably caught off guard that your brain and body were no longer communicating. 

Hondo marginally cocked his head, tongue retracting back into his mouth as he hovered above you, legs lowering to be eased back behind himself; he had taken to lightly treading air in his excitement, turning to face you as even he - for a moment - was unsure of how to behave toward this bleating woman.

“A friend of yours?” he questioned.

“Mother!” you screeched, pushing your skirt back down; Hondo made a sound that began as a thing undignified, but it quickly worsened as it turned toward a choke; you had labeled this onlooker to be none other than the matriarch of your rich family.

“What a surprise! Won’t you join—er—” 

You pushed the pirate back, up and off you; at any other time, he would have been incensed, though he merely crawled onto his knees before he was able to stand and rid himself of any dust that may have collected - stereotypically - on his shoulder.

Hondo did not take into account the… sizable erection he bore, clearly visible by the raised fabric of his trousers. Clearing his throat, Hondo adjusted his coat to partially hide his heightened state of arousal; he did not necessarily mind being caught. 

However, he also did not quite see the point, as he had just been discovered eating out this woman’s daughter, and in her own bed, no less. What did it matter if his cock was as hard as boa-wood? 

Hondo glanced at you as you hastily tried to mask your shame, having tossed the so-far-unused comforter over yourself, though you had since rearranged your dress. 

“Before you say anything—” you interposed, your parental unit having opened her mouth to hopefully do something besides scream. You stood to your feet, then brushed out the wrinkles in your clothes, “—this is Hondo Ohnaka.” You made sure to enunciate that last part.

The woman’s face fell; she strode forward. She circled about the man, taking him in as if he were a circus performer, or some kind of specimen to be studied in a science lab. Her steps were jaunty; she had all the confidence of royalty, however sloshed. Hondo trailed her with his eyes, ready to speak when she burst out laughing. 

“Madam, I fail tu see what es so funny.” 

Your mother pressed a finger to Ohnaka’s lips; she continued her observation as Hondo knit his brow, his beautiful eyes narrowing into deadly slits. He looked to you again as you stood, flinging his disheveled braids out over his back with an agitated cast of his head; he was not amused, impatient for you to explain yourself and why you had kept him a secret from your housemaid but not from your own flesh and blood.

“The pirate?!” she finally asked, throwing her neck back to cackle toward the cathedral ceiling, following it with another large swig of red wine. 

“Ah, so you have heard of me as well,” Hondo beamed, mood predictably changing. Your mother stared at him as if he was a figment of her mind, recalling all the instances that her husband had nearly blown a blood vessel thanks to this intriguing character. 

She laughed again, a dry, derisive sound, swirling to face you, bottle in tow. 

“Mother, I—” She grasped you by the strap of your dress, pulling you close to her face; she smelled strongly of alcohol and expensive perfume; it was a fragrance she preferred that was harvested from Nlorna flowers. 

“Anywhere but here,” she whispered, then adding, “Hilre’s lurking about the house.” 

With that she released you, sashaying her hips as she left you there with another dry, sharp laugh; you fought to calm your pounding heart, once again turning to face your befuddled lover. It was clear Hondo did not appreciate your mother’s continued mockery; he had put on another sour face. You wondered if the jig was finally up, though you would still endeavor to try your luck. 

“This way—” you entreated, taking his hand as you prompted him to follow you back out into the hall. 

“—No!” he protested, his voice heavily punctuated by his charming Sriluurian accent. “Youuuu have kept Hondo en de dark long enough! What sort of place es dis, and what sort of person are you?” he demanded, words saturated in a smooth, dark baritone.  

You forced yourself not to smile, knowing he was genuinely perturbed, though you found it absolutely delightful that you should be able to get this far in your ruse - however innocent - when Hondo was known far and wide for his wily tricks. 

“I’ll tell you as we walk,” you promised, holding out your hand. Ohnaka scanned it unfavorably with his eyes before skirting it altogether, walking past you and out into the spacious corridor. 

You at once caught up, keeping pace as you guided him back toward the lift. “That man you told me the story about, the one that you used to steal weapons from during the Clone Wars-” you began, pressing the button that would soon open the elevator’s Clari-crystalline doors.

“-Annnnd what of him?” Hondo asked snootily, cutting you off. He looked down his broad, button nose at you. You came to terms with the fact you wished to kiss it though putting the idea on the back burner for now.

“He’s—” You both stepped inside, Hondo wasting no time in finding a place to stand. He folded his arms as you picked whatever crazy spot you were taking him to now, it being the top, the fifth and final floor of your obscenely lavish-even-for-a-pirate’s home. 

You turned to meet his gaze; it was obvious he was now very skeptical of you. “All my days—” you paused, trying to work out just where to begin, “—I grew up hearing stories about you. My father was never present in my life; I grew up to resent him, and his work,” you confessed, gliding forward to take his hand in yours once more.

“Dis does not surprise me,” Hondo vaunted, though you would not let his inflated ego detract from what you meant to relay.

“This house, this money, these clothes I wear, that jewelry in your pocket – it’s blood money. Money earned from weapons sold that causes death and heartbreak on untold planets, from the Core Worlds to the Mid Rim, and perhaps even beyond,” you elucidated, Hondo listening with rapt attention to your story.

The chime for the turbolift dinged, signaling the arrival to your destination; your room was just down the hall; the entire level was yours.

“Yes, yes, go on,” Hondo prompted, having found himself curious in what you were about to say. You had not let go of his hand, ushering him to your private quarters without any more delay. 

“Even as a child it never sat well with me. I heard things, saw things. Things that disgusted me and made me ashamed, yet here I sit in the lap of luxury with nothing to show for it. But you—” You pulled Hondo forward and through your exceptionally tall doorway, kicking it closed behind you with the toe of your shoe. “You single-handedly thwarted his plans; you seized his product; you made his life a living nightmare, and for that I thank you.”

“Well, Iiii don’t know ef you would call et single-handedly—” Hondo began, but you had kissed him; the former leader of the Ohnaka gang only wished to give credit where credit was due. He supposed it could wait, his hands finding the dip in your waist to pull you close so that he might indulge you.

After a moment, he slipped back to look you in the eye, the cheekiest, most fiendish grin you had ever seen affixed to his smug mug. “So, one might say dat you have ‘daddy issues’—" his voice dropped nearly two octaves, thick like molasses, and noticeably subdued, “I should have known...”

“Your name was a constant in my household,” you breathed out. “I laughed when he cursed you; I wanted to know what it was like to be a pirate; I wanted to know you, see you. I wanted to run away and never look back, I had meant to escape this life, I—”  

Hondo had taken your chin in the flexure of his palm, his thumb almost absentmindedly trailing across your bottom lip in a bittersweet caress. “—And now… daddy’s little girl es all grown up,” he concluded, it being easy for him to ascertain where all of this was going. 

“Fuck me,” you pleaded earnestly and without warning, your tongue darting out to lick and suck Hondo’s thumb with somewhat sobering enthusiasm - not that Hondo was at all inebriated from those two glasses of Toniray back at the bar. He was just… surprised for the second time this evening; never in his wildest imaginings could he have predicted the way this night would fare.

“Sweet one, are you sure?” he asked in a peculiar tone, questioning your urgency. “We have been making a habit of being interrupted, et seems. Are you positive no one else es going tu come bursting en tu ruin our fun? Your… father, perhaps?” Hondo added seemingly as an afterthought, though it had been the most pertinent thing to ask. 

“He won’t be home for two whole days,” you whispered, still indefatigably kissing and sucking his thumb. 

“Den old Hondo will bestow upon you your greatest wish, dear child – me,” he ceded, walking you back the few steps it took him to lay you down. 

When the backs of your knees hit the bed, your legs folded; you sat down swiftly, tugging on the pirate’s blood-red coat. He hastily rid himself of it – albeit with the sound of loose jewels and credits clinking against metal - you doing the same with your dress. 

Your underwear was nowhere to be found, having left it on the floor of your parent’s suite. Hastily, you unfastened your brassiere, discarding it off to the side as Hondo kicked his boots off and bent down low over your retreating form. 

“Perhaps you would care tu undress me?” he inquired, tone sultry and seductive as he pierced you with look that caused your loins to tingle. 

“Please,” you requested, immediately going for his helmet. His eyes lifted as he watched your fingers stretch out toward his face, then vanish somewhere up above. You displaced it, setting it on the bed, Hondo’s bare head apart from his long braids now visible to the naked eye. 

He grinned again, a devilish stretch of his wide mouth as he flashed dual rows of aureate and pearl; you lifted his goggles up and over his forehead by their straps, for once able to see those sloped, ash-gray irises up close. 

You gasped mildly in shock; you were beguiled; his ears were pointed at their tips. You dropped his eyewear beside his helmet so that you could gingerly run your fingers along his strikingly handsome, reptilianesque face.

He bore a scar, its pigment lighter than the rest of his leathery skin, over one eye. His countenance was stark and skeletal, eyes sunken to protect them from harsh desert winds, though there were none of those on Oseon. You found you could not stop yourself from kissing him again, fondling and caressing his armored flesh; the tapered shape of his elvish ears. 

Hondo had to admit that this was somewhat unexpected. He had assumed you had other ideas when it came to the removal of his clothes, but you had gone for those accessories that prevented you from being able to delve into those windows of the soul. His swoop-pilot goggles were just as much for safety as they were for forestalling others from probing too deeply; Hondo always played his cards close to the vest. 

He gazed at you as if seeing you for the first time, and perhaps there was some truth to this, the Weequay’s chin lowering as he studied your pretty face in the dim light of your bedroom. 

You were more beautiful than he had previously thought, and the way you were drinking him in with your thirsty eyes was distracting and disarming. It was as if he was water itself, and you were so very, very parched. 

It was either that, or he now felt vulnerable, having nothing to hide behind; nothing to shield him from your scrutiny. 

“I take et you… like what you see,” Hondo said sonorously, yet there was a lacquer of uncertainty in his tone. 

Did you like it? Were you disappointed?

As if addressing his implicit fears, you pulled him down on top of you. “More than anything,” you whispered, excitable hands ripping at his tunic. Hondo subsequently assisted you, removing his arms from their long sleeves. As he did the rest, you redirected your energy toward the belt buckle that bore the symbol of a life since past; his Ohnaka gang was no more, but they were nothing without the man himself to lead them.

“Dat es what I like tu hear…” 

He had a moment when you were unzipping his pants that he thought about your reasons for wanting him, the daughter of a weapon’s dealer scorned. Oh, how you must have despised your father, and your mother was a piece of work herself. Many times he had been as wasted as he had seen that woman; more so, yet— had she also been a lush when you were still in diapers? Had you always found yourself to be neglected? He knew something of that.

Perhaps this was to be your revenge; Hondo knew something of that too, yet he did not once feel used. And even if you were using him, far be it from him to complain. 

Still, he saw genuine affection in your eyes, or was it awe? He could not blame you for desiring to copulate with him; you were not the first person to take him for a ride, but perhaps this was the first time it almost seemed funny. Funny, but endearing, nonetheless.

You had placed him on a pedestal without his knowing anything about you; he was some sort of heroic figure, or a person to look up to; a role model, though a poor one. He almost wondered if he should be doing this – almost. 

Then, your warm hand was on his prick; it brought him out of his quiet meditation, a thing Hondo rarely was - quiet. The pirate pushed his trousers down off his knees and toward his ankles, kicking each pant leg loose, one by one, so that you might bask in his full-blown nakedness. 

“Uhh- how old ded you say you are?” he suddenly asked, his voice holding within a modicum of trepidation; he did not take the time to do the math himself.

You laughed brightly. “Old enough,” you replied.

That was good enough for him, though he was significantly your elder. If it did not matter to you, it did not matter to him. He had no more reason to think about it, your tender lips meeting with his. 

You were overtaken by desire, lifting your legs to wrap them properly around his torso. You guided him in, your free arm hooking around his neck for your human hand to clasp the back of his head as you aimed to kiss him hard and deep.

Hondo moaned against your mouth, helping to ferry himself forward; you took that part of him that was ribbed and ridged in your palm, angling your hips so that you could begin to slide it within yourself. 

The man inhaled sharply through his nostrils as you inched your way down, down along his shaft until his cock was buried fully inside you. Your plush inner walls gave it a loving squeeze, Kegel muscles tightening insofar that Hondo’s whole body went rigid, the Weequay pulling away from your greedy lips. 

“Mmn -- keep doing dat, and I won’t last long,” he forewarned, but you were already using your legs around him as leverage to glide back and forth across his girth – and girthy it was.

Each raised line, each groove of his phallus felt wonderful inside you. It was alien, unlike anything you had ever felt before, already close to satisfying every itch nothing else could seem to scratch.

You let out an uneven exhalation, gripping the man by the shoulders. Your eyelids fluttered as you whimpered a dulcet sound in his goblin ear, coming already from only a few strokes of him inside you.

Hondo tilted his head, having not even begun to fuck you. He thought you to be exquisite, your face twisting in pleasure without him so much as having to pump his hips. 

“Wait for Hondo, no?” he teased.

You laughed shakily, though it was almost forced, still coming off your high. Finally, you opened your eyes fully to look at him; he was too perfect. Your heart ached, knowing that beyond your short time together lay uncertainty, and that you might never see him again after tonight. It was a thought you nearly could not bear.

Your eyes welled with tears; your emotions were short-circuiting. Hondo pulled back, momentarily concerned. “Darling, what es wrong? Have I done someting?” he asked. 

“You’re not kissing me enough,” you lied, though sounding needy.  He stared at you long and hard before bending at his waist to dip low and press his mouth to yours. You hungrily accepted it, cinching your legs around his flanks to push him deeper still.

Hondo lightly gasped before it morphed into a moan of gratitude for your healthy appetite. He was also feeling something, respecting your tenacity while also marveling at the copious amounts of attraction you felt for him. 

Why, it bordered infatuation, a thing that might be considered dangerous under the right, or wrong circumstances. Still, that did not dissuade him. His ego was being fed, and fed well.

And yet, he was beginning to like you. Perhaps it was all the gifts and gold you had bestowed upon him, the fact you were not just some ignorant, rich heiress, or the fact you were rebelling in the only way you knew how – by having promiscuous sex with your father’s hated enemy. In another life, maybe he would have had you join him on his quest to rob the galaxy, yet now he was nothing more than a washed-up pirate captain without a crew.

You exalted him, and he felt somewhat humbled by it. It was a foreign feeling, like that of being satisfied. While definitely not new, per se, it was different. It was not exhilarating in the same way he had once presided over droves of men to do his bidding. No, this was like drugs, like the most potent strain of spice, or the drowsy, stupefying effects of the nastiest narcotic. For a moment, he felt lost in the sweet heat of your debauched embrace. 

But Hondo would feel the damp trickle of your tears; people did many unusual things in the throes of passion, such as claiming love when there was no such thing to be found upon its finish. Still, he wondered, the underside of his thumb daring to brush those pesky drops away as his tongue remained ensconced in your tepid mouth. 

So moved by the gesture, you could have cried ten times over, however humiliating, pulling away to exact your grip with the muscles of your thighs to a more readied position. Your kisses came quick, feverish, incrementally deeper, faster, as if you were a woman starved for months on end who was only now allowed to partake of the most forbidden fruit. 

“Sweetheart,” Hondo lightly berated, “you have me,” he posited. “Du not rush et, hm?”

He had coerced you to slow, to follow his pace, your ardency unbidden and almost uncontrollable. You could only nod, arching your hips to settle at a more favorable angle, each languid caress of him inside you causing your toes to curl. The wet squelch of his cock thrusting into your cunt was reminiscent of the finest music, igniting your senses as if your whole body would soon burst into flames.

The dastardly being captured a pillow for his use, propping you up so that you might relax. Hondo dragged you forward until your body was folding on itself, your sex snugly bound to his groin as your back remained level on the sheets.  

Powerful thighs propelled him forward as gentle hands groped yours, sliding up the smooth flesh of your legs to come to rest at the cusps of your hips. Sinewy fingers bit down, snaking around to grasp the meat of your ass as Hondo pressed his cock to the head of your cervix, careful not to push too far or to cause you pain. 

“Harder,” you dared. “Deeper.”

He did not ridicule you for this; he looked up with those heavenly sky-gray eyes. One hand crawled to the curve of your middle back as he clasped you tightly, ramming you repeatedly with the alien shape of his thick, ribbed shaft. 

All you could do was lie there, mouth parted to exude nothing but startled silence, pain mixed with pleasure rocking you to the very fiber of your nerve endings. Hondo would grunt generously with every precise stroke of himself inside you as your body twisted in ecstasy; he was unable to help himself as he cupped the roundness of your breast in his hand, the other still holding you partially aloft.

“Breathe, my dear,” he whispered as you started to unravel, your form jolting with every forceful push of his hips as he pinched your raised nipple. The tears returned, though it felt so right to cry, the warmth stored in your belly blossoming into elated moans as you gasped for air.

“Hondo,” was all you could think to say, “fuck, Hondo—” you repeated, perhaps louder than you meant to be. 

“Dat es what I am doing,” the man above you whispered in a salacious tease. 

“Hondo fucking Ohnaka,” you laughed, at once coming a fourth time that evening as you wailed to the walls, the ceiling, and anyone who might hear you, despite not knowing that indeed your housekeeper would, as she had parked herself for the last five minutes right outside your door. 

“May I, darling? I can’t – hold—” he struggled to keep at it, wanting nothing more than to please you thoroughly before he himself got his. In fact, he had never asked if you had any sort of protection to ward off pregnancy, not that he wasn’t sure he had several bastards out there roaming throughout the galaxy without an inkling as to who they were, or to whom they belonged. 

“Cum inside me,” you uttered coyly, batting your sultry lashes in that way only a woman knew how. Having given him permission, Hondo obliged; you gleefully held his pulsating cock in place, feeling every pump of semen enter you as you cupped your lower abdomen and pushed down on purpose, just to intensify his orgasm. 

The Weequay’s eyelids fluttered as did his erection in your guts, spurts of hot ejaculate coating your insides until there was nothing left of himself to give. He pulled out, a creamy white substance dribbling down the inside of your legs, the man doing all in his power to calm his mind and regain control of his gelatinous limbs.

“I—dat was—” he began, gently releasing your lower half so that you might lie down properly. He would soon join you, bereft of energy, sprawled prostrate on his belly as he began to succumb to drowsiness. “Perhaps I could just… rest here a little while, ah?” he asked.

“My home is yours,” you whispered, cradling the Weequay’s head in your arms as your hands cushioned the sharp angles of his face. You would only leave him momentarily to clean yourself and to locate a clean towel in your personal refresher, doing your best to sop up both his and your own excess.

Once accomplished, you drew him to your bosom like a thing forever to be cherished. You tucked yourself around him like a warm blanket, never once worrying that you might get a rude awakening, though Madam Hilre had her own plans once her suspicions had been undeniably confirmed. 

Still, at that moment, you were floating high above the artificial clouds of Oseon, not caring what daybreak might bring, only that you were content to lie here at Hondo Ohnaka’s side for as long as fate allowed.

---

You showered but did not dress. It was a balmy morning, and the warmth of fresh brewed caf enlivened you. Hondo would encircle you, as if lovers on a honeymoon, gathering your waist with one arm as he partook of his own beverage in the opposing hand. 

Your view was of the gate below, surrounded by a lush garden that Hondo had somehow failed to notice on his way in, taking the time to rub your naked belly tenderly as he peered over your shoulder, breathing in the perfume of fresh flowers that he knew, unfortunately, were not real. 

Nor was the tree that provided you with shade, just to the right of your commodious balcony. It looked real, he thought, knowing that not every planet could be so lucky as to have foliage as lustrous as Naboo, or Eriadu. 

Drinking from his cup, he offered his compliments, the first thing said on this bright, beautiful day. “Delicious, as es everyting en dis house.” His upper lip perked slightly, “including you,” he added cheekily. 

It was so early, and yet faithful Mara had left you a pot of caf outside your door with a timid knock. Had you not already been awake, you were sure you would have missed it, the smell having brought Hondo to consciousness some few minutes later. You were happy he had joined you, your neck craning back to grace the man with a good morning kiss, the hand not wholly occupied subtly pushing his a little lower, his fingers skirting your soft mound. 

“Is that so?” you asked, Hondo entertaining your early morning lust by slipping between the folds of your labia. He spread you apart at the seam, reintroducing himself to your hypersensitive clit only to massage sumptuous little circles so masterfully it made your eyes begin to roll toward the back of your head.

“Et es.” 

You tossed your mug and let it break somewhere off to the side, grasping the back of Hondo’s head as you prompted him closer to you, the Weequay’s long, black tongue delving into the deepest parts of your throat as he bent down to engulf you in his sweet embrace.

You involuntarily writhed, sharing the same breath from Hondo’s lungs as you moaned against his lips, offering him your orgasm through the impassioned furl of your tongue. 

“Stay with me,” you uttered your plea softly, Hondo’s hand once more trailing up so that his fingers could wind carefully around your vulnerable throat. He swiped your bottom lip with his thumb as the rest of his fingers moved to grasp your chin. Then, he forced you to look at him as he studied your face, there being an intensity to his gaze you could not place. 

He meant to speak, only he was interrupted by your servant busting through the door. She did not stop there, rushing onward to the balcony, covering her eyes for sake of modesty even though her voice rang out high-pitched and alarmed.

“Miss! Your father’s coming!” she blurted out, “Hilre caught onto who you’ve brought home!” 

“What?” you turned to face her, not caring that you were naked, only fearing for Hondo’s safety and the sudden announcement Mara had made. “That fucking bitch!”

Mara dropped her hands; her eyes darted between the both of you, Hondo taking a sip from his mug as if unperturbed, thinking he perhaps still had time yet to finish his caf.

“I heard her on the comm! She knows he’s—” Her eyes widened as she had chanced to look, really look, at the Weequay who had on not a scrap of clothes “—Hondo Ohnaka!”

“So I am,” Hondo said offhand with a playful grin.

“How far out is he?” you demanded, wondering what else she may have overheard, ignoring the Weequay who was at the heart of your concern.

“Don’t know, miss, but—” 

There was a sound like that of a single blaster shot. Hondo’s mug shattered in his hand. “Uh—” 

All three of you turned to look; your father’s personal guard was on the lawn, gazing up at you five stories high. 

“Fuck,” you whispered. 

“Indeed,” Hondo replied, dropping the handle to the ground; it was all that remained, the men below belting out curses and obscenities as they began to rush inside. 

“You have to go!” you urged him. Hondo seemed to agree, flying past you and your dutiful maid to gather first his trousers, and then his tunic from off your floor. 

“Mara!” you ordered, “belay them; turn off power to the lift!”

“Yes, miss!” she replied, giving a curt nod of her head. She was out the door in seconds; you thought this woman deserved a raise for all she had to go through on your behalf.

Someone screamed your name; you darted to the balcony once more, Hondo having already adorned his helmet, his goggles, and his crimson coat. 

Your father and several of his hired goons stared up at you, his jaw having dropped to the ground. In your haste, you had forgotten you were in the buff, the man yelling so pointedly you thought he might give himself an aneurysm. “Is he in there with you?!” he demanded,  followed by a furious, “put some damn clothes on, for fuck’s sake!” 

He did not wait for an answer, stampeding into the house with an entourage of four other men. Hondo had slipped on his boots in the nick of time, witnessing the tail end of your father’s heated outburst. His duster jingled with every movement, full of the treasure you had so kindly conferred to his possession, silver eyes sparkling in the light of this asteroid’s star. 

“Go north,” you instructed him, firmly clasping his cheek in the crook of your palm. “Docking Bay seventy-seven, there is a ship there. It should be unlocked.” Your eyes brimmed, knowing this might be the last and only time you ever saw him. “Take it, hurry,” you implored him, Hondo giving you his most stunning smile.

“Ah, a double-seven! What a lucky number, ah?” Then, he paused. “I will never forget you,” he promised, jumping with surprising agility on top of the nearby banister as if it was nothing at all; the railing was fashioned from pure, Durosian marble and quite elegant, though it also served its purpose as a step stool. 

This is when Hondo felt truly alive: laden with gold, jewels, credits, and escaping with his life and dignity intact. He looked over his shoulder when he heard you shout; you were doing your utmost to distract and delay your father’s guards just as the man himself stormed into the room. 

You had common sense enough to grab a robe that had been previously discarded over the high-backed chair of your vanity, tossing it on to clothe yourself, only if so your father’s thugs couldn’t get an eyeful any more than they already had. Then, you heard your own last name; Hondo was calling out to your father from his perch in a nearby tree, the brigand holding on with one hand as he dared to give him a mock salute. It was a gesture that was almost friendly, the scalawag unable to miss out on his chance to gloat.

“Another ting I have stolen from you, ah?” Hondo asked cockily. “Your peace of mind, and your daughter’s heart.” In that moment, the newly risen sun caused a plethora of gems, jewels, crystals and gold to gleam, light refracting radiantly with as many colors as a Kallakean rainbow from out the numerous pockets of Hondo’s stolen coat.

“Filthy Quay!” you father bellowed.

Hondo blew in your direction one final kiss.

“No!” you screeched as your patriarch withdrew his pistol in a fit of unbridled rage. You shoved him as hard as your strength permitted, guards scurrying valiantly to surround you on all sides as others fired aimlessly at the now vacant spot on which Hondo had hung like a Kowakian monkey-lizard from off a single branch. 

Burly men held your arms as you gazed after the retreating form of your audacious lover, your heart beating fervently in your chest with the joyous knowledge he had escaped unscathed to live and fight another day. You could not help it; you laughed without reserve. To simultaneously scorn your father and fall from his favor had been an easy feat. But no matter what was to become of you, you would be content, because it had all been worth it in the end.

Main Masterlist

Hondo Ohnaka Masterlist

#Hondo Ohnaka #Hondo Ohnaka x Reader #Hondo x Reader #Hondo Ohnaka x You #x you #x reader #star wars smut #pwp #Star Wars #Clone Wars #Star Wars Rebels #Pirate's Price did something to me #Cad Bane mention because I could not help myself. #Yes there is a library in there somewhere #sorry not sorry #oneshot turned into a novel #my writing #fanfiction #sooooo much plot

[trashfaun]

What’s he smiling about...

#star wars #star wars tcw #cad bane #duros #fan art #my art #this came to be because someone mentioned bane grinning in a server #so i got coaxed out of the comfort of bed #the power this man has #oh and blood because of nice practice

[weirdlet]

A thinky-thought for our collective Cad Bane nonsense- what if part of his biology, as a reptile, to infrequently eat larger meals and then sleep them off?  What if part of how he gets his jobs done is to literally be a little bit lean and hungry to stay keen and motivated- then when he’s in his off hours, enjoy a more luxurious schedule of good meals and cozy naps?

#reptile biology and eating habits #alien biology #just to hedge the bets: #cw eating mention #cad bane

[downrightembarassing]

Plush

What you thought was a one night stand with Bane turns into a two night stand. As per usual I can’t write summaries but yeah, this follows “Seeing Double.”

The usual warnings, F/M, P in V, P in A, just everywhere, dub-con (gotta throw that one in there), spanking, delay/denial, restraints,swearing, jealousy, toxic relationship, seriously not healthy, thank god for fiction, my lovely trash writing style, self-indulgent x100, minimal to no proofreading, written while sleep deprived, Cad’s an ass and I’ll stand by that.

This was actually inspired by an offhand comment from my husband, which made me feel a lot better about my figure. So I had to write it out.

As a side note, in no way shape or form is this body shaming on anyone. It’s more of a way for me to process and continue learning how to appreciate this body I have to pilot around.

———————————————————————

The Duros is back.

You almost tripped and dropped the tray of clean(ish) glasses when you noticed the familiar broad hat, lean leather covered form, and long knobby blue fingers.

Remembering what those fingers can do…

Dazed, you freeze in the middle of the busy carina as memories from the last…encounter crash through your mind. The things he did your body again, and again, again.

Cad Bane tips his hat back, runs his scorching gaze up and down your frame, and smirks. One large hand reaches for a toothpick, places it between hairline thin lips, and gestures you over.

Taking a deep breath you carefully place the glasses down, card a nervous hand through your hair, and saunter over to the hunter. It doesn’t hurt to add a bit of swing to your step, a little extra sway to your hips, and his smirk broadens.

“We’ll hello dere li’l lady, looks like ya remember ol’ Cad Bane,” his deep modulated voice rasping around the breathing apparatus.

“You’re a hard man to forget Bane.” As a smirk of your own flits across your lips.

The Duros removes the toothpick from his mouth and takes another long look, his red eyes taking in your warm, mammalian curves, taking note of your flushed cheeks and slightly parted lips.

“Gotta’ be hard ta be good doll.”

You’re entire body warms under his scrutiny as you inhale sharply. Memories of his unique anatomy, and how it had fuzzed every coherent thought from your head, parade through your thoughts.

Bane grins. “How ‘bought ya close up shop early an’ let me remind ya how much ya like these Duros cocks.”

A blush stains your cheeks as your core clenches. But no, you tell yourself firmly, the money is more important than acting like some bounty hunter’s booty call…barely.

“Sorry Bane, but I need the credits more than I need dick. You’re going to have to wait, I’ll send one of the droids over with a drink.” You throw him a cheeky wink and saunter off, making sure your hips sway with every step.

——-

Cad Bane growls around his drink. It’s a low noise, rattling deep from his chest. That little minx, thinking she’s got the upper hand. He gets what he wants, and right now he wants to fuck the smirk right off that pretty little mouth.

He watches her stroll away, watches every other eye in the bar take an appreciative glance at her plush hips, round ass, and deep cleavage. Hell, he can SMELL the arousal pouring off the cantina clientele as she walks by. He’s halfway tempted to take her now, on the bar, and let every sleemo in this joint know who she belongs to. Spread her open so every lowlife scoundrel can see her shudder and clench…dripping for him, ONLY him.

The doors open, breaking his train of thought, and a gaggle of tipsy females of various races stagger through the door. A lean Twi’lek, listing slightly, makes a beeline for the hunter’s empty booth. Bane watches her, appraising the situation. This could work well.

A cruel smile twists across his face, revealing sharp canines. That little minx is gonna learn some better manners.

——-

Just an hour left to go. Just. One. Hour. Your mind is chaos as you attempt to keep up with the late night rush of inebriated customers and try NOT to think about what the bounty hunter will do to you after the last drunk is kicked out.

A shiver of apprehension rolls down your spine. Bane isn’t the type of creature you say no to. If he’s really pissed you might be spending the night getting yourself off. But he most of anyone should understand the need for credits…hopefully.

During a lull in the press of bodies at the bar you glance at the corner booth where the hunter was sitting and go rigid with shock.

The lanky blue Duros is still there, relaxing, with a thin Twi’lek practically sitting in his lap. Her hands trace lazy patterns down his leather trench and he dips his head, to murmur something in her ear. She giggles, it’s a high pitched sound.

Rigidly you tear your gaze away from the sight before you. You know he’s doing this as retaliation for turning him down earlier but it still hurts. Physically the Twi’lek is your exact opposite, all lean muscle and narrow hips. Exactly like Bane.

Cursing under your breath you resume your job, pointedly ignoring the dark booth and the asshole sitting there.

——-

Bane watches her from under the brim of his hat while the Twi’lek prattles drunken nonsense in his ear. That minx behind the bar is pissed, that’s for sure. Her normally fluid movements are stiffer, the casual teasing and flirting with the clientele seems forced.

Perfect. Time to rile her up some more.

He pushes the body next to him roughly. The Twi’lek squeaks in surprise.

“Time ta go missy.”

“Where we goin’ big boy?” she slurs.

“I ain’t goin’ no where, you are.”

With that he pulls out one elegant LL-30 blaster and fires two shots above the crowd. The silence after is deafening.

“Everybody OUT” he rasps.

He meets your furious gaze “I’ve got business with tha bartender.”

That cruel smirk crawls across his face, fangs flashing in the dim light as he settles back into the booth.

He’s already hard.

——-

You’ve never been so pissed in your life.

Pushing past the rush of bodies quickly exiting the bar, you storm up to the Duros reclining with his hat tipped back.

“You ARROGANT cocky son-of-bi…..all over some skinny ass Twi’lek….Why don’t you just fuck off with her and NOT WRECK MY BAR!” It’s hard to string a coherent sentence together.

Bane tilts his head. Interesting, he’d expected her to be mad about the blaster marks but she seems more riled up about the Twi’lek. She’s yelling right now, but not in the way he wants her yelling. Time to fix that.

Bane steps up to you and you meet his deep red eyes. Emotions boil over and you reach a hand back to slap him.

Should have remembered what happened the last time you tried that.

Quicker than humanly possible Bane catches your wrist.

“Bad move li’l lady.”

Before you have time to sputter out a reply the bounty hunter is behind you and has your wrists trapped in a set of his bracers behind your back.

“What the FUCK Bane! Not the fucking time for thi….”

A gag is forced through your teeth, cutting off your tirade.

“No more a that now.”

The Duros steps back around in front of you, grinning and the enraged expression in your eyes. He leans in, breath brushing against your neck.

“Gonna teach ya some manners princess, not polite ta ignore ol’ Cad Bane when he comes all this way ta see ya.”

You can’t do anything but glare at him. At least until he hoists you up and unceremoniously dumps you on the table. Your breath leaves your lungs in a huff as he arranges your body to his liking. Ass on the cold table, sitting up facing him, with your legs dangling towards the floor.

The Duros wastes no time, pulling down the straps of your dress and yanking the bottom up from under your ass. Now it’s just a wrinkled band of fabric arouind your middle. Your undergarments are next, torn if half in his haste to get them off. He steps back to admire his work.

You’re exposed, cuffed, and gagged glaring up at the hunter. He pushes your torso back until your leaning on your bound elbows.

You have never been so mad.

“Much betta’”

You have never been so turned on.

——-

Cad Bane is not one to waste time. He looms over you, broad hat shading his face from the bar lights, and places one massive hand on each thigh, spreading them open. You clench your legs together, determined to make it as difficult as possible for him.

He chuckles and overpowers you easily, holding open your soft thighs.

“Well look at’chu li’l lady, already drippin’ fer me.”

Your feel your face flush deeply, humiliated at how your body responded to his rough treatment.

“Now princess, you’ve been a li’l minx tanight, flauntin’ that ass” he gives it a squeeze hard enough to bruise “those tits” he gropes your breast, engulfing it in one massive hand “that sweet, warm little body.” His right hand moves closer to your soaked sex.

“Gonna make sure ya got your priorities straight.”

He pushes two long, knobby digits into your soaked cunt. You’re wet enough where he slides in with ease, and a rattle emits from his chest in appreciation.

Every damn time. Those damn fingers get you every. Damn. Time. Your back arches and a moan vibrates against the gag in your mouth. Anger slips away and those thick digits send sparks up your spine as his fingers reach deeper than any other species has been able to.

Bane sets to work, pounding into you until white flickers at the edge of your vision and your arousal is pooling on the table. Your walls clench, and the heat in your groin coils tighter and tighter. A couple more thrusts, a couple more taps against that sweet spot deep inside your cunt and…

He pulls his fingers from you completely.

The needy whine you make around the gag is even more humiliating than your obvious arousal. He sneers at you as your cunt clenches on nothing. Tears prick at the corners of your eyes.

“Gonna be a good girl now princess?”

Shit. Good girl? Why does that cause your entire body to tighten up? You swallow the excess saliva dripping behind the gag. Wide eyed you nod.

“That’s right” he rumbles as he reaches behind your head to remove it.

The gag drops the the table and he shoves his fingers back into your throbbing cunt. Working his hand he pumps into you hard, while his thumb comes up to circle your clit. His other hand grasps and kneads the supple flesh of your breast.

Your climax hits hard and fast, swamping your body with pleasure as your cunt clenches around his pounding fingers. Back arched, braced against your still bound arms, a guttural moan is torn from your throat as slickness soaks your thighs.

Panting and whimpering you come down from your high and dimly watch the bounty hunter remove his blasters, unbuckle his belt and pull out his alien anatomy.

Those twin cocks, stacked one on top of the other, blue, and achingly hard. He begins to stroke upper one, mixing your juices dripping from his hand with the pre-cum leaking from the tip.

“I wanna see dat ass princess, roll over.”

Awkwardly, struggling with your bound wrists, you manage to roll over. Your face and chest are now pressed into table, legs supporting your lower half, ass presented to the hunter.

“Wider.”

You spread your legs as wide as you can, exposing your dripping cunt and tight ass to him. The cool table beneath you feels divine against your overheated skin. It’s always like this, the little voice in your head reminds you, you’re always the one shaking and gasping and WET, exposed and presented to the Duros like a damn feast.

But somehow you can’t say no. Can’t stay angry.

“Good girl” he rattles behind you, and watches your cunt clench at his words.

Cool fingers trail through the slick leaking from your core and smear it around the tight ring of muscle. Your entire body twitches.

His other hand cracks across the meat of your ass, hard, as he slips one finger into your ass.

“That’s fer tellin’ me ta leave with a damn Twi’lek.”

You’d completely forgotten about the Twi’lek.

Another smack, another finger slipped inside.

“Ain’t gonna fuck no bony ass, I want it soft” Smack “thick” Smack “plusssssh” SMACK.

The last word comes out as a hiss, a warning. Your cunt throbs with every hit, and the slick between your thighs gets wetter.

One hand kneads the hot tender flesh of your ass while he starts to scissor his fingers, buried deep inside it.

“I like me a mammal li’l lady, curves and warmth. A nice pillow ta pound into.”

All you can do it gasp for breath.

The gasps become whimpers as he sinks a cock into your wet heat, still scissoring and slicking your ass. A couple strokes, just enough to get it wet, and he’s removed his fingers to press it against your now slick hole.

——-

The long, agonizing stretch of him penetrating your ass releases enough endorphins to tranquilize a bantha. The cool feel of his anatomy soothes the burning heat of the intrusion and soon his hips are flush with the red, overheated skin of your ass.

He pulls almost all the way out, lines up his second cock, and slides back in.

You let out a long keening whine at the feeling, his twin anatomy stretching and stuffing your oversensitive sex to the brim. Completely drunk off the dizzying levels of endorphins flooding your body.

“Good girl.”

Your entire frame convulses at the praise. Bane groans behind you as you clench down on him. Mewling and writhing, you attempt to get a little more friction, another hit of the addictive hormones surging through your body.

The Duros starts to flex his hips, building up a rhythm that sends electricity singing down and up every nerve ending. There’s no more room for conscious thought, just the sensations rolling through your body and the whimpers pouring from your lips. Drool leaks down your chin.

A hand caresses your hair before strong blue fingers grip tightly near your scalp, arching your back towards the hunter. The painful sting propels your shaking body closer and closer to climax.

“So…sooo fuckin’ tight princess.” He snaps his hips harder and your volume increases. “Like ya made for this, bent over a table takin’ Duros cock so…so fuckin’ well.”

One hand fisting your hair, one hand pressed into the small of your back he relentlessly pounds himself into your wet heat, pulling and bending your body for his own pleasure and chasing his own release.

Obscene sounds echo around the bar, the slap of skin meeting wet skin, moans, whimpers, curses.

“B…Bane…fuck…h…hard…..HARDER!”

The Duros hisses above you.

“Manners princess.”

You moan, he really is an ass.

“Cad…fuck….Cad please” another mind breaking snap of his hips. “Cad PLEASE…ah….harder!”

“Dats a pretty way ta say my name.”

He grips harder and winds you up tighter. The hand in your hair arches your back, the hand on your lower spine presses into the curve and his movements become rougher, pounding your soft hips into the unforgiving surface of the table.

The wind up of your body matches the wind up of heat radiating from your core. Three hard thrusts later and it…snaps.

Pleasure floods your ass, cunt, everywhere as your climax wracks your body. White hot it burns down every nerve ending as your vision goes black. Wet heat gushes from your cunt, soaking the front of the Duros’s chaps as you scream out your orgasm beneath him.

——-

It’s just like last time, Bane thinks, she’s like fuckin’ the inside of a reactor. Soft silky and scorching hot. The plush softness of her ass, beet red from his hands, is perfect for hammering his narrow hips into over and over and over.

When she cums beneath him he feels the slick heat coat his groin, his lower stomach…upper thighs.

“Fuck…ah….fuckin’ hot princess.”

The clench of her cunt and ass send him over the edge, one hard thrust later he’s pressed into that warmth as deep as he can go, growling and cursing as her tight holes milk every drop of Duros blue out of him.

——-

You feel the chill of his cum, filling you up and leaving you mewling at the overfull sensation. His hips buck into yours as he pumps it in deep.

You both stay like that, locked together for a long moment, catching your breath as you ride out the aftershocks.

The sound Bane’s cocks make as he pulls out of you is positively filthy and leaves you feeling achingly empty.

Lukewarm cum slides down your inner thighs.

A gentle caress on your ass, the binders click and fall from your wrists and you scratch your sore shoulders forward. A towel is laid across your back. It’s oddly intimate.

“Fuck ya look good like dat, Duros blue leakin’ outta both holes.”

Nothing like ruining a good moment.

Standing is not in the cards right now, not with the way your legs are shaking. Tremors still wrack your body. Settling for sliding the towel on to the booth, you maneuver yourself on to it to try and mitigate the mess.

Finally you turn to look at the Duros. As expected, he’s already tucked himself away and looks just as collected as when he walked in. Jerk.

“You know Cad, I do have a bedroom here. We don’t have to fuck in the bar every time.”

He arches a brow ridge at you.

“Pour me a glass of dat stuff I was drinking’ earlier and we’ll put it ta good use den.” He smirks. “Ya said please just fine, but cha’ still gotta learn ta say thank you.”

It’s going to be a long night.

#cad bane #cad bane x reader #writing #when my husband and I started dating #I was thinner #and I worried about the weight gain #always had an issue with that #but that’s a whole other conversation #anyway he mentioned he appreciates and adores the size I am now #because certain…positions are much more enjoyable #TMI #but there you go #my man is the sweetest thing ever #and he always tells me I’m gorgeous #but this gave me a concrete reason to believe him #cuz my brain needs a reason #always

[xinambercladx]

"Figment" Ch1: Credits and Copper

Rating: T Characters: Cad Bane, Darth Sidious, Darth Maul (mentioned). Summary: Cad Bane waits for a Sith Lord's holocall, and a possible job. Little does he know the rabbit hole it will send him down. -------------------------------------------------------------- The promise of fame and fortune often leads to infamy and misfortune.

22 BBY

First year of the Clone Wars.

It was a living night on the cold streets of Coruscant. The central hub of the galaxy creaked from the rust and the rot, greased by blood and sweat of the lower classes to churn the cream of society to the top. And down, down below the underbelly growled from hunger and greed and bloodlust and ambition. The city dwellers who had dreams of leaving never left, and those that did always returned. The hum of neon signs and whistling air speeders was a sick tune of narcissism playing nursery rhymes with hope. The sky of stars was choked out by the air pollution and lights of the city, and those that dared to look up only saw the crushing thousand levels of concrete and durasteel above ever looming.

Cad Bane stared out the window, rolling a toothpick in his mouth. From the darkly lit room he stared out to the neon lit city, the underbelly of Corucant. Speeders zipped by pedestrians. Between him and the next skyscraper was undoubtedly an endless chasm reaching down to the 500 level, only crossable by bridge. He wasn’t in the most depraved levels of the city-wide planet, but not in a nice level either. The Hole was a seedy hotel that rented out an apartment to him whenever he visited the planet. The Hole was a favorite of bounty hunters for its discretion, and was a carefully guarded secret among them for that very reason, as they themselves often bounties on their own heads. The walls were stained, but thankfully free of mold and mildew. He stayed here because amenities were available for cooking if needed, washing if needed, a bed for sleeping, if he could fall asleep at all. There was even a computer with full access to the holonet and holoprojector to boot. The projector had ceased communication with a client with a potential assignment, much to his chagrin. The mysterious client had somehow gotten his direct line of communication some months before and had sent him to kill Jedi, secure bases of operations like Bilbringi Depo once belonging to a Hutt. Killing a Hutt was an offense that would have put an even larger bounty on his head than Bane already had. The client had asked for no evidence left behind, for which he was somewhat thankful for not bringing more heat to himself, but also rued the fact his reputation wouldn’t grow from boasting about it.

“Bilbringi Depot is secured,” Bane said when the job was completed. He brushed off his hat from the short lived skirmish. His battle droids loaded into his ship, theSleight of Hand.

“You have done well, Bounty Hunter. I trust you left no evidence of your work,” the hooded man said, hands oddly hovering in front of him as if ready to grasp the air.

“I never leave a mess unless I’m paid to leave a mess. I’m a professional,” Bane assured, giving the Durosian equivalent to a wink.

The hooded man had seemed pleased, a wry grin curling over not quite perfect, human teeth. “Payment has been transferred to your account. I shall contact you when I next require your services.”

Bane had begun to make clients jump through several hoops little more than ten years ago. A new client, who went by the simple name “Maul”, had hired him to help kidnap a Jedi Padawan from an auction house on Nar Shadaa, another city planet with a less admirable reputation. Bane, Aurra Sing, and their teammate were hired for little more than being patsies, a distraction as this Maul snuck a peek at the asset. They all ended up being hunted by the very auctioneers their were steeling the Padawan from and in the end the job was barely worth saving the Zabrak’s hide, with the Jedi nowhere to be seen. “The Jedi has met her fate,” was all Maul uttered on the matter as they flew away from Nal Hutta’s moon.Dead, Bane assumed. Maul paid Bane’s crew their fees. Bane decided if he had to jump through hoops to get paid, his services were worth more and worth protecting from nonsensical clients. Clients now had to be referred by previous clients. Perhaps more hoops were needed.

Normally Bane didn’t care who the client was as long as he got paid. This hooded client had proven to be a lucrative one, with tasks of particularly tricky goals. He had to admit, they were rather fun. When this Darth Sidious contacted him again as promised Bane couldn’t help but be curious what the job would entail next. Before the hooded man could begin explaining, he said, “Just a moment” and the feed was cut short. Bane scoffed, his curiosity left hanging. A title like Darth meant he was a Sith Lord. The Jedi were obsessed with finding Dooku and his dark partner. Here Bane was simply minding his own business and the Sith had contacted him for help. He wondered what the job was. There was a familiarfeelto this man. It was a lurking sense of danger that got under the skin. Cad Bane lazily walked to the window. He adjusted the wide brimmed hat he was still wearing after returning. He leaned on the sill, staring off into the distance, waiting.

Bane fiddled with the toothpick, cleaning a bit of sinew that had gotten stuck between his fang and side incisor. The nerf kebabs had hit the spot. The meat had been perfectly grilled and drenched in a delicious, peppery sauce. He had gotten it in celebration of job he had completed not six hours ago. The Bengal Barbecue kiosk had opened recently and quickly developed a fan following. There had been a massive line, sometimes trailing around the street corner most days of the week. He had wanted to try it after smelling the sizzling meat stand several times on previous visits, but never had the time to wait in line. The comfortable weight in his stomach sac confirmed it was well worth it. Bane could see the stand across the street. The line was gone as the kiosk closed for the night. The lights flicked off and the Weequay pit master walked home. Bane silently wished the entrepreneur success. He liked the kebabs, and fully intended on giving the Weequay more of his credits.

Soon the pit master was lost in the distance and passing crowds. Bane’s large eyes focused on a new sign above where the pit master disappeared. The display, easily four times the size of a speeder, morphed between greens and blues, switching from trees to ocean. Words scrolled along the bottom, advertising Alderaan and several other vacation planets. It was subtle though. The footage replayed and he watched, wondering why he liked it. The shapes of trees waving in the wind somehow morphed into seaweed, which morphed into waves, which morphed into rolling clouds. The nature scenes starkly contrasted with the constructed buildings around it, so no wonder his red eyes seemed to be transfixed by it. Whoever had edited the footage was gifted. The footage replayed. Water pattered on rooftops, rivers swirled, and waves crashed on black cliffs. Trees stretched across a blue sky. Seaweed waved in shallow pools morphed into fields of grass waving in the wind. A stream of long hair shined in the sun, and there was a smile warmer than the sun could ever…

A dim blue light lit up behind him. The old voice of the hooded man croaked, “Excuse the interruption.” Bane was snapped out the daydream, the voice grating his ears. “As I was saying, Bounty Hunter, I am in need of your services.”

Bane returned to the here and now, the recurring client, potentialjob. “I’mlistenin’,” Bane spoke curtly, half thinking the job better be worth the wait like the kebabs had been. He flicked his toothpick into the corner rubbish bin.

“I need a Jedi… Holocron.”

“To get a Holocron I’ll need to break in to de Jedi Temple. It’s impossible… not to mention,deadly,” Bane explained, not missing a beat. He had considered breaking in before, but had always treated it like a puzzle to solve merely to pass the time between jobs. Over the decades, he had collected various diagrams, pass codes, and other intel some would deem useless about the fortress. Half of it had been simply from researching how to take down Jedi or better defend himself from them. The oldest records he had acquired were from a Jedi artifact collector while undercover for an unrelated heist. The records were over a millennia old, before the pyramid like walls had been erected to protect the inner sanctum. He had never thought a client would be daft enough to hire him for such a venture. Perhaps this silly pass time of his hadn’t been so outlandish after all. It would be a huge risk, but the reward would be-

“Perhaps your reputation has been exaggerated,” Darth Sidious sneered flatly, hitting the bounty hunter’s pride.

Bane leaned on the desk chair and pounced at the jab with a list of demands, “I want a Rogue class starfighter with elite weapons, cloaking device, dewerks.” It was everything he would need for the getaway if things went south. “Oh, and,” he sprinkled the sting of pocketbooks as he slipped into the chair and put his feet up, “triple my usual rate.”

The Sith Lord flicked the jab away as if it were a crumb on his plate, “Your price is of no concern. I will also provide you with the means to getinsidethe temple.” Sidious’ offer was so casual the bounty hunter could only be amused.

Bane smiled with pleasure, “You’ve gotta deal.”

“Excellent,” Darth Sidious replied. “I’ll see the item you requested is manufactured and delivered beforehand. In the meantime, there is a smaller task I have for you. There is a Jedi I need taken care of.”

“Another Jedi and another job? You know my fees, Sith. What more does dis entail?”

“Master Ord Enisence. I need him eliminated. Once he is dead, and the Holocron retrieved, you will need to recover a crystal from Jedi Master Bolla Ropal. The Holocron cannot be unlocked without the crystal he possesses. Collect the information inside the Holocron for me.” Darth Sidious said, then added, “You have proven yourself capable enough so far, bounty hunter. Continue to do so and I shall employ you further.”

“I’m at your service,” replied Bane, giving a mock bow while still seated. “I must admit, I’m enjoying dis tango, but I can’t help but wonder who gave you my contact? It wouldn’t have been your associate, Maul, now would it? You Sith types like your mystery and intrigue, so I can’t un-see the resemblance, with both of you havin’ a penchant for hooded cloaks and messin’ wit Jedi business.”

Darth Sidious didn’t answer immediately, impressed with the bounty hunter’s deduction. “The incident with the Padawan on Nar Shadaa was a necessary lesson for my... former apprentice to learn patience, a quality in which he lacked, unlike yourself.”

“An important virtue, dat one,” Bane said.

“Indeed.”

“Is that all den?”

“It is.” Sidious concluded their business and sent Cad Bane an encrypted file with instructions on where to pick up a data chip. The holoprojector shut off and the room was free of that unsettling feeling under the skin. The feeling was replaced with anticipation, and Cad Bane immediately got up to leave. He was tired, but sleep could wait until after he retrieved the chip. The Sith had complemented his patience compared to Maul, however there was nothing wrong with being proactive. Sidious wasn’t the only one eager to get the ball rolling. Curiosity on several thoughts had finally been sated. Maul had indeed been connected to Darth Sidious. Maul was his “former” apprentice, meaning he was dead, which meant Count Dooku was Maul’s replacement. The Galactic Republic believed Dooku was the mastermind behind the war, but Bane now believed it was the unseen Sidious pulling the strings.

Bane descended down the steps of The Hole, a façade bar and restaurant, in truth. He crossed the street and passed the Bengal Barbecue kiosk. The faint scent of charred meat and charcoal still lingered in the air. He walked for some ways, waking up from the post meal sleepiness. Bane watched as passers by step in puddles ahead of him. A leak spilled from an apartment's air conditioner line. Blue and green lights reflected on the rippled surface. His red eyes were drawn up to the Star Tours vacation advertisement on the large screen overhead. He stopped to admire the morphing landscapes. It truly was a masterful edit. The fields appeared and grass swayed, but something was missing. He watched the ad replay. Again, something was missing.

“You fancy a vacation to Alderaan, Duros? I can take you to the spaceport if you like,” a young voice asked. Cad Bane turned to find a young human taxi driver, bundled up in a fur collared leather jacket. “Nice new ad, though, huh? I wonder how they get the seafoam to turn into clouds like that?”

“Sure it is,” Bane replied. “I like de version with de woman.”

“Woman?”

“Yess. Long locks, smilin’ at you.”

The taxi driver shrugged, “I’d like to see that version! Maybe they’d sell more spots on the Tour with a pretty girl in it. I’ve been staring at this ad for the last hour though. No girl. When did they play that version?”

Bane hesitated. The conversation with Sidious had begun only twenty minutes earlier. He shook his head. “Doen't matter. Take me to dese coordinates. I gotta job to do.”

The night was hustling and so should he. ----------------------- Chapter Links: Next Chapter

#cad bane #star wars #fanfiction #chapter 1 #Figment #cad bane x oc #suspense thriller #bounty hunting stories #with a dash of romance #cad bane is a foodie #darth sidious #weequay bbq #mention of darth maul #bounty hunter #coruscant #The Hole apartment

[im-no-jedi]

I keep seeing people post their predictions for season 2, but since I know so many spoilers already from that one person on Twitter, it’s hard talking about certain things LOL

buuuuut I guess I’ll join in anyway since there’s still a lot we don’t know yet!

✨my predictions for TBB season 2✨

the first two episodes happen simultaneously. first episode is from TBB’s perspective, the second is about Crosshair (and Cody!)

the heist that happens in the first episode will either go really well or really poorly. either way, whatever happens, it’s going to impact TBB in a huge way and probably impact their relationship with Cid as well

it’s already been stated by several people (including Dee Bradley Baker himself) that Crosshair is going to go through a HUGE character arc that will greatly impact him and his future. it’s gonna involve him questioning his place in the Empire, akin to Kallus in Rebels, and he’ll probably have an entire Zuko arc that involves him being on his own for a while

Omega is gonna get into a fight with one of the boys that causes her to run off and something happens to her that the boys have to rescue her from

Echo is gonna leave TBB to be with Rex. I really really REALLY don’t want this to happen, but it feels like it will. and I will be very upset about it 🙃

Gungi will be the only one of the younglings from that group that we see, but we find out what happened to the others regardless (hopefully they’re ok 🥺)

the racing episode is gonna be a game changer for Tech in terms of his character. Dee Bradley Baker already said it’s one of his favorite episodes of the season. Tech’s gonna get to show off his skills in a fantastic way. I feel like the whole thing is going to be a reference to TPM where something happens during the race that makes us think Tech is gonna lose, but then he pulls it together in the end and wins \o/

Cody is either going to die in the most heartbreaking but satisfying way possible, or he’s gonna pull a Gregor where everybody thinks he’s dead, but we the audience get to see that he’s ok. either way, this will be one of the things that changes things for Crosshair AND Rex going forward

we’re gonna see more stuff akin to the hobo Clone in Kenobi. since the Clones have already pretty much been phased out by this point, we’re gonna see them struggling to survive or suffering from the effects of the Empire in some manner

whatever is going on with Nala Se is related to the Palpatine Clones. the producers hinted that there will be connections with the weird lab stuff we saw in The Mandalorian, so weird Clone stuff is absolutely going to happen

we’re going to finally learn what is so special about Omega cause LOL it’s not just that she’s a “pure” Clone. I’m still of the firm belief that she’s Force sensitive, and it’s because she has Palaptine’s influence in her (which is why she has his exact hair!!!)

we’re also gonna learn more about TBB and what they went through in Nala Se’s lab. there’s a reason Omega was so upset seeing those creatures in the tubes in episode 9. SHE KNOWS THINGS

this is more so a desire than a prediction but... I want Crosshair to punch the living daylights out of Rampart, just freaking send him to another planet. just shooting and killing him would work too ROFL

Plan 99 is gonna involve TBB and Crosshair having to work together to accomplish something, along with the rest of the Clones Rex has gathered. which hopefully will include Wolffe by that point! I wanna see Wolffe dang it! 😤

and that’s all I got for now!✨

#the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #tbb season 2 #I didn't directly mention anything related to spoilers I know; don't worry #also idk about cameos and frankly idc #the only ones I'd care to see are the Bridgers or Din's clan #or more Cad Bane and Fennic of course #I'm happy with just Gungi and Bail Organa honestly #we'll see what happens after tomorrow I guess!! #AAAAAAAAAAAA #star warz

[stargirl-writes]

[navigation] the secret history of anakin skywalker

pairing : assassin! reader x general anakin skywalker

status : ongoing

tags : enemies-to-lovers, SLOW burn, angst, hurt/comfort, mystery, espionage.

warnings: !mature content! (violence, mentions of abuse, mental corruption, mentions of suicide ideation) scheming, more mind games obvs, eventual smut(?) i'll be specifying on each blog !

read on ao3!

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sypnosis

you have only known one truth about this war, the republic and the seperatists are two sides of the same coin. but now, your master count dooku has disposed of you after your consequent failures. his betrayal fueled your thirst for revenge. and in the cruel twist of fate, you have found yourself with an arrangement with the enemy. general anakin skywalker is willing to do what it takes for the republic to win, even if it meant dealing with you, his nemesis.

╚═══════════════════════.✾. ═╝

╔═.✾. ═══════════════════════╗

chapter summary / navigation

↝one

captured

chapter summary

your mission to secure umbara has failed. your master, count dooku would not have asked of anyone but you to deliver success. but as you stand amongst the pile of bodies of umbaran soldiers, the horror of your failure washes over you.

and in the hopelessness of events, a jedi appears amidst the ashes of your city. one that did not hesitate to kill the jedi general krell despite his jedi order's honor.

warnings : mentions of ptsd, mentions of abuse, war, mentions of a panic attack.

notes : centered around the same time as the clone wars season 4 episode 15.

↝two

the arrangement

chapter summary

after your old master has betrayed you, you were captured by the jedi general skywalker. stricken by the grief, you resigned to your faith.

on the way back to coruscant to face republic jurisdiction, a sniper has fired in open space. taking general obi-wan kenobi down.

in a fit of anger, anakin skywalker accuses you. but you have already made up your mind in taking revenge on your old master. and even though you are terrified, you struck up an arrangement to aid anakin's mission to find obi-wan kenobi's true killer.

warnings: violence, imprisonment, betrayal, mentions of ptsd.

notes : centered around the same time as the clone wars season 4 episode 15.

↝three

common ground

chapter summary

a clue tipped by the jedi council leads anakin skywalker back to your cell. now his anger has passed, he wants to clarify the terms of your new alliance.

on the way to nal hutta, anakin skywalker steers the conversation to his fascination over your beliefs— which legitimizes the doubts he's been having about the republic.

warnings : none so far.

notes : centers around the same time as the clone wars season 4 episodes 16-17

↝four

the attempt

chapter summary

rako hardeen escapes with two known bounty hunters on orandia. anakin skywalker claims obi wan kenobi remains alive. and a revelation by cad bane made you head down a bar and drink the night away.

warnings : drinking.

notes : involves spoilers for the clone wars season 4 episodes 16-17

coming soon...

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╔═.✾. ═══════════════════════╗

notes

hello my lovely people! thank u for taking interest in this story :)

i've always been in love with the enemies-to-lovers trope and this series would be canon compliant (at first) because i think it'd be more fitting to build on what filoni already established.

the timeline would be around season 4-7 of the clone wars.

and this series will be dark and angsty and contains mature content that i want to clarify is meant to serve the plot. and my depictions/interpretations is no way of endorsing or 'romanticizing' these situations.

anyway, i hope that i can fill your imaginations with this little thing i have in the works.

please don't post my works anywhere else. though likes, reblogs, comments are highly appreciated ! (and fuels me hehe)

╚═══════════════════════.✾. ═╝

if you're looking to find more of my works, you can check out my navigation list !

© to @cafekitsune for the borders!

#anakin #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker fanfiction #sw anakin #sw #star wars #star wars anakin #star wars imagine #star wars x reader #anakin star wars #tcw #the clone wars #clone wars #anakin x you #anakin x reader #anakin skywalker x you #anakin imagine #anakin skywalker imagine #anakin skywalker #general anakin skywalker #angst with comfort #angst with a happy ending #graciella's #[𓍯's] #tshoas #the secret history of anakin skywalker

[maraudover]

DOUBLE EPISODE DROP BINGO CARD (it’s just a list of things)

tech return! (flashback or as cx-2)

cody return!

major batch character death?

omega uses the force

tech is mentioned and not just in passing, like an actual address

pabu invasion

maraudover (marauder explodes)

batch gets separated

echo returns (will he live? who knows)

clone rebellion (or at least a major point of it)

entire batch vs cx-2

hunter vs cx-2

cad bane

tech is alive, but is NOT cx-2

plot twist (any twist, must leave me in silence staring at the wall for five minutes)

meet more of the clones we knew from tcw

crying (either on screen or from me)

other major character death? (not the batch)

huge cliffhanger

cx-2 reveal (bonus points if it’s in the last five minutes of the 11th episode)

#it’s so maraudover #the bad batch #tbb spoilers #star wars #the bad batch spoilers #tbb #tbb season 3 spoilers #this is way too ambitious so maybe it’s just for the rest of the show

[my-sun-m00n-and-stars]

Cad Bane NSFW Alphabet

In honor of my first kinktober, I'll post something I wrote up a few days ago.

Check out my Bane slowburn on AO3, linked on my pinned post.

F!Reader

A = Aftercare (What they’re like after sex): Bane has never been an emotional, touchy-feely kind of guy. If you're a one night stand, he won't even sleep in the same room as you. He's got places to be, and sleeping next to a stranger is a prime way to get himself killed (he's not a very trusting guy). That being said, if you're a regular partner and have built up some trust, he'll help clean up the mess he made of you and share your bed. If he's in a committed relationship, he may permit cuddling on occasion (he's stealing your mammalian warmth).

B = Body part (Their favourite body part of theirs and also their partner’s): A common answer people give to this one is his hands; his trigger fingers made his career. While I agree with this, I'd like to add up for consideration his fangs. I have noticed he likes to bare his teeth, and always has a toothpick in hand. This, combined with the fact that Duros don't typically have fangs, leads me to believe that he may like them for intimidation purposes, and also because they make him unique.

On a partner---tits. Simple as that. They're exotic, they're soft, and they're inviting. A novelty to a reptile.

C = Cum (Anything to do with cum basically… I’m a disgusting person): I have a headcanon that has to do with "scent-marking". Essentially, Duros males have strong pheromones in their cum that lingers on their partners, marking them with their scent to ward off other potential males. If Bane is in a committed relationship with you, he may want to "mark" you as his, whether it's cumming on your stomach, your ass, your face...whatever it takes to make the message clear to other males who get within smelling-distance: You're his.

D = Dirty Secret (Pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs): This is another common headcanon in the Bane fandom---he has a fetish for mammalian women. Humans, twi'leks, togruta, anything he can get his elongated hands on. For one, they seem to be the common standard of beauty in the galaxy. For another, as a reptile they have certain assets that intrigue him. They're warm to his cold, soft to his rough, curvy to his lanky. A good heat source for a cold-blooded man.

E = Experience (How experienced are they? Do they know what they’re doing?): Oh please. The real question is, which body count is higher? The amount of people he's slept with, or the amount of people he's killed? To elaborate more, I imagine that if he can't find a girl at the cantina to rent a room with, he's finding a hooker to pay. Either way, when he wants it, he gets it.

F = Favourite Position (This goes without saying. Will probably include a visual): Definitely doggy. It's easy, he's in control, and he can go as fast as he wants. Not to mention he gets a good view of your fine ass. It's also less intimate in a sense--he's not face to face. Less "love-making" banthashit, more fucking.

G = Goofy (Are they more serious in the moment, or are they humorous, etc): In 99% of cases, he's serious. When he's horny, he's a predator on the hunt. It's almost like a bounty for him. That being said, if you two were in a committed relationship and were very comfortable with each other, I could see him loosening up a bit and having some fun, especially if alcohol is involved. He's not going to turn into a comedian, but he'll relax. But that would be very rare indeed.

H = Hair (How well-groomed are they, does the carpet match the drapes, etc.): Obviously Bane has no hair, so I'll talk about hygiene instead. He strikes me as a bare-minimum kind of guy. He's got a bar of soap, toothbrush, and toothpaste tube in his knapsack, and that's it. That 18-in-1 soap was made for this man. However, he is clean and keeps himself presentable, including in his nether regions.

On his partner he doesn't much care for body hair either way. It's a bit of a novelty if it is there, but he appreciates the smoothness when it isn't. One thing he can't stand? Prickly. It irritates his skin. You either have to shave it all off or leave it fluffy.

I = Intimacy (How are they during the moment, romantic aspect…): As I mentioned earlier, this man is not holding your hand and looking deeply into your eyes. He's there to fuck. Now if you're his girl, he'll treat you with a bit more deference. He'll make sure you're taken care of and that he's not too rough with you. But if you want anything slow or gentle, you're out of luck. You'd have to catch him in an extremely rare mood to be willing to try that kind of sex. It's vulnerable, and if there's one thing he hates, it's vulnerability.

J = Jealousy (Do they get jealous easily?): This man is Possessive with a capital 'P'. He's a control freak. Whether you find that toxic, hot, or both is up to you, but I believe it to be most realistic to how he is portrayed in canon. Even if he trusts you not to betray him, he doesn't trust other men. Especially in the circles he operates in. If you're out in public together in a seedy part of town, he's keeping an eye on you at all times. He may not like you wearing certain outfits if you look too good. He may 'teach you a few lessons' back in the bedroom if you piss him off too much by talking to other guys.

I see this as being his biggest red flag as a partner. But hey, if you've got rose-colored glasses...

K = Kink (One or more of their kinks): Bane likes the chase--the hunt, so to speak. If he's in the right mood, and you're playing hard to get, he will eat that shit up. It's in his nature as a bounty hunter. He would never force himself on you--that would defeat the purpose. No, he has to win you over mentally and physically. It's much more satisfying to him. Play coy and watch how determined he can be.

*disclaimer* If it's obvious you're not into him, he won't waste his time.

L = Location (Favourite places to do the do): I'm going to disagree on other common headcanons with this one. I don't think he would enjoy doing the do in an alleyway or unsecure location as much as a room. He's a paranoid guy and would always have to watch his back, and he can't fully engross himself in his partner. But if you're indoors in a bedroom, it's easier for him to get into it. I also think he would get a kick out of doing it in the cockpit of his ship.

N = NO (Something they wouldn’t do, turn offs): As I said before, this man is a control freak. Any situation where he feels powerless makes him deeply uncomfortable. As such, subbing would not be on the table for him. He'll let you ride, but don't think for a second he's not the dominant one in the situation.

M = Motivation (What turns them on, gets them going): If you play into the predator/prey dynamic, he will be on board. If you challenge his authority in any way, boner. Even if he just sees you being a badass, like shooting someone or punching someone, it will turn him on. Basically anything that makes him imagine what it would be like to butt heads with you and see who comes out on top (it's usually him).

O = Oral (Preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc): In general he prefers to receive. Selfish man, selfish lover. However if he's really into you, he will eat you like a feast. Something about humans just tastes so sweet.

P = Pace (Are they fast and rough? Slow and sensual? Etc.): Fast and rough. No other explanation needed. These words pretty accurately sum him up.

Q = Quickie (Their opinions on quickies rather than proper sex, how often, etc.): He loves a good quickie. Get in, get out, on to the next mission. That's how most of his encounters tend to go. But when he has the time, nothing can compare with a nice, long session on a bed.

R = Risk (Are they game to experiment, do they take risks, etc.): He usually only experiments if it's his idea. He doesn't like unknown variables that are out of his control. But if he is not completely against the suggestion he hears, he may decide to give it a try.

S = Stamina (How many rounds can they go for, how long do they last…): This man has a lot of experience. As a result, he has had practice with edging and building up his stamina. He can go for a long, long time. Depending on where in the star wars timeline you're looking at him, how many rounds he can go may be variable. In his younger years in the prequels? Several rounds. TBOBF? Maybe 2. Man is in his seventies. Give him a break.

T = Toy (Do they own toys? Do they use them? On a partner or themselves?): Bane wants to feel you in his hands and use his hands on you. Toys are too detached for him, and frankly threaten his ego. Although, the idea of tying you down and using a vibrator on you until you scream from overstimulation is something he has thought about on more than one occasion. But he'd rather bring you to that point himself through hard work rather than rely on a tool.

He has no qualms about bondage. He can and will use his cuffs on you, and he will tie your legs down too if you squirm too much.

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease): This man lives to tease you. He's a smug son-of-a-bitch and will degrade you. He'll mock you, toy with you, and make you beg.

V = Volume (How loud they are, what sounds they make): He's not loud, but he does make animalistic noises. Grunts and growls mostly, as well as the occasional dirty talk.

W = Wild Card (Get a random headcanon for the character of your choice): Maybe once, if he really loves you deep down, he'll let you take charge for a night. Maybe once he'll let you show him how to be slow and gentle, how to make love. Maybe he'll claim he didn't care for it afterwards, but maybe, in the moment, his body was on fire.

X = X-Ray (Let’s see what’s going on in those pants, picture or words): You know what they say about skinny guys, amirite? Big. His cock was designed for a duros female, not a human. it's very nearly incompatible anatomy, but you make it fit. It's ridged, with the tip being pointier than a human's.

Y = Yearning (How high is their sex drive?): High. When he's on a job, he's locked in and won't be distracted with such things. But off the job? He's always DTF. If you live and travel with him, you're fucking at least three times per week, at the bare minimum.

Z = ZZZ (… how quickly they fall asleep afterwards): I headcanon that duros don't need as much sleep as humans do. He's last to fall asleep and first to wake. Depending on how much he likes you, he may or may not stick around until you wake up.

#cad bane #cad bane x reader #duros #star wars #bounty hunters

[sinisterexaggerator]

... In this essay, I will reiterate that "Cad Bane is a depressed, sentimental bastard."

OK, so, @fat-tasty-krogan pointed out that the barrels of Bane's LL-30's are rusty in the Bad Batch via a screenshot and now I cannot stop thinking about things and connecting the dots.

Here's me checking different angles. 100% rusty. This is a man who is the best bounty hunter in the galaxy, a man who is *the* best shot — that’s his livelihood right there. Something is wrong.

I've always thought Cad Bane was depressed, mostly owing to his behavior in the lost arc, but this solidifies it for me. Let's talk about the canon, shall we? (Fair warning: I may throw in headcanons or share some other thoughts along the way, but I will warn you ahead of time if it's an original idea versus what is considered to be canon).

First, let's take the idea that Jango Fett is mentor to Cad Bane. This in and of itself says to me they had a close relationship and that they often worked together in some capacity. I will spare you my thoughts on the rest, but Jango does in fact associate with him and most likely in a meaningful way we never get to see. Jango Fett does not trust easy, yet he trusts him enough to be around his child; his prized possession, let's say.

Proof: When Boba first mentions Bane, (in chorological order) it is in the comics.

Him asking to spend time with Bane, and Jango saying "no, because you already know of him (and others like Zam)," means they had a close-knit relationship in my opinion. One that sadly comes to an end. In this comic, Jango wants to train Boba to deal with "the factor of the unknown," versus the known. Hmmm.

Moving right along.

The next time we see or hear anything about Boba and Cad being in the same room is during the Rako Hardeen/Box Arc, and in the audiobook CW: Stories of Light and Dark in the short story "Bane's story" that is read by Corey Burton as Cad Bane.

In it he states that the "kid's all right," and that he "owed his father a few favors." In the story, he reiterates what happens between him, Eval, and Obi-Wan to Bossk and little Boba Fett. It was Bossk and Boba who helped to create the diversion so that they could break out and escape.

Bane returns, his job foiled, and explains why. At the end of the audiobook Boba has a plan to get them all out of jail, and he wants Bane to be apart of it. This is AFTER Aurra leaves Boba for dead on Florrum ( don't get me started on Hondo, WHEW - they knew each other too, for SURE ), before TBB, and before we see Bane with a plate in his head, this one:

It is still present in the Book of Boba Fett.

Let's not rush ahead, though. Let's back up to a bit to where Cad Bane gets betrayed.

#1 betrayal on screen is Obi-Wan Kenobi as Rako Hardeen. While I don't necessarily ship them, I can see how Cad was very much hurt by this, as he felt he had started to develop a kinship with another hunter, someone who could watch his back, imo. Maybe he hadn't experienced anything like that since Jango Fett. Maybe Rako was ticking all the right boxes; I see Cad as prizing loyalty. When Obi-Wan turned him over, you could see the pain and anger in expression -- he was truly hurt, and he promised to end his life with a blaster bolt between the eyes. I honestly think he despises him and that's that.

Returning now to Boba, it is also canon that Boba was mentored by Cad Bane. Bane's story is also where he mentioned young Boba often reminded him of himself.

In an unaired Clone Wars Arc, Boba Fett works together with Cad Bane on a job. During the animation created for the episodes that never aired, Bane is seen drinking heavily and seems to give two shits less about Boba or the job itself and is not taking things seriously.

Boba begins to question his tactics, and does not like that he is willing to sacrifice innocent townsfolk just to get a bit of money. He stands up against him, and Embo, Bossk, and other hunters present decide to let him take his shot and do not interfere in their duel, even though most likely Bane is seen to be the one in charge or having authority.

In the end they both fall, but Boba was (unfairly might I add) still wearing his helmet. You can tell that the plates on Bane's hat, however, are also armored. Still, it is not beskar. Bane is severely injured.

#2 betrayal: Bossk and Embo retract their weapons and let Bane go head-to-head with the boy. He even looks surprised in the video footage when they do this! It's the same face he gave Obi-Wan Kenobi!

Boba comes out the winner. We see Bossk with Boba in The Empire Strikes back in the future, and in canon they are known to be seen often together. He especially looked after him in prison on Coruscant.

Thus, we can assume, Bossk went off with Boba after Bane's defeat and joined forces, leaving him for dead. I assume, and in canon it is depicted that Embo is honor-coded. If what he thought Bane was doing was not honorable, he most likely left him for dead as well. What we DO see is Todo 360 being there. I am almost 100% certain it is because of his droid he survives. But, where did he take him for help? Hmmm.... HONDO!! (Kidding, kidding - another HC I have, but ANYWAY).

In fact, Todo states he is Bane's "most trusted confidant" to Omega, and I believe this. He's a grumpy dick, but he never outright punishes Todo for anything, and he messes up quite frequently, but he is also a great help.

I have a headcanon that states his reasonings for keeping Todo, though this has no basis in canon:

"The little shit comes back after he is blown apart by a bomb Cad himself planted to go off in the Jedi Temple. Todo is loyal. He's there for him. He doesn't mind he's a grump. He provides conversation; stimulation in the otherwise solitary hours he spends in space. He becomes a comfort, someone to talk to, someone to fill the void that Jango left behind." Perhaps he also acts in the same capacity as a service animal.

Anyway, it is known what Bane thinks about clones. "Once you figure one out, de rest are easy." I don't think he liked clones, even if he tolerated and respected Boba until a certain point in time. He was different, he had "his father's blood pumping through his veins," and maybe Bane had trouble staring at that face - looking in those eyes -especially if there was more to him and Fett's relationship.

Imagine how he must have felt when he betrayed him? When he shot him? When he failed at repaying Jango's favor and failed at being Boba's mentor?

I personally do not believe Bane would have agreed to the Clone contract idea as far as his opinion. I think he would have told Fett he was crazy to have millions of himself running around out there, that there is only one of him that's the real deal. Let's add this to the fact he has to see their dead and dying faces everywhere to the point he's so numb he shoots them every chance he gets - no big deal. No big deal to have to kill one of your partner's lookalikes everyday for nearly the rest of your life, eh? Even after Jango himself is already dead.

Coming to The Bad Batch, it was pointed out by another user that when Omega is looking for a way off Bane's ship, we see some medallions/coins/ingots that have the symbol of the Mythosaur in a cabinet she is searching. That is Mandalorian. Who was Mandalorian? Jango. Boba by default. They are accompanied here by a journal. I think it could be Boba's journal, too. The boy most likely resided with him on his ship as he had the Justifier during the lost arc and they were traveling together.

That man is 100% a sentimental bastard.

You could say he hated Boba. You could say he was his number one enemy, but deep down maybe he felt remorse. He had been drinking. Why? Maybe it was hard to be in Boba's company. Maybe he felt he could have prevented Jango's death. Maybe mentoring him was hard work, but in the end, Boba betrayed him after everything he had tried to do for him. And Bane liked the kid up until this point - said so himself in Bane's story.

In the lost bounty hunter arc, Cad is wearing the same outfit he is in The Bad Batch. Now he has a metal plate in his head. @allsystemsblue mentioned he talks himself up to Shand. Maybe he's trying to convince himself he's as good as he says he is. He headbutts her and it obviously throws him off. He shakes himself out, trying to regain his concentration. I personally headcanon he gets terrible headaches.

The plate is on the OUTSIDE, meaning it's protecting something underneath. I imagine he had a hole in his head and a bit of his skull was fractured. I say he wears the plate to reinforce a soft spot that makes him vulnerable.

Even so, she kicks his ass. He's off his game. Maybe he's been drinking even more since his defeat and embarrassment at the hands of a kid. One he respected, one maybe he called family.

All the other hunters sided with Boba, left him high and dry, and he hasn't even been caring for or polishing his blasters; his moneymakers. They are RUSTY.

He loses Omega, he loses his credits, and Fennec sabotages his ship. This man is pissed. He's at wit's end. For all we know, he sat down and cried afterward before he could figure a way off that damn planet, and the only one who was there for him was Todo.

Years later, we see him confront Boba. He's a hardass. Nothing left of his personality in that show but a villain. It was like they made him extra mean on purpose.

He's still hung up on the past, he says it. He talks about Jango's blood being inside Boba, his "father." He leers at Boba. It is almost as if he takes a pause (again crediting @allsystemsblue for this observation), a moment to truly look at him. And let's not forget the hiss he gives him right before his "final lesson."

"Look out for yourself, anything else is weakness."

GEE! Where did he learn that from, I wonder?! FROM BOBA HIMSELF MAYBE?! He was "weak" for Boba; he was his mentor; he tried his best to do right by his father and train him and he failed. He shot him, left him for dead, betrayed him along with all the other hunters present, and all that was left for him was to work alone. To grin and bear it. To take the jobs that came his way just to survive.

He had to of hit a downward spiral at some point in his life to come to this conclusion; something terrible must have happened, and I guarantee it's this.

Shat on all his life, all the way from being "hatched" in the Descent Ghetto on New Tayana on Duro, poor, coming up from the slums, working hard just to make ends meat.

Can't tell me he didn't have a wall up, and hell yes he was feeling low. What could make a man that mean besides betrayal and sentimentality for something he wishes perhaps he could have changed or prevented all together.

Now he takes the toughest jobs, the ones nobody wants. His reputation is fear and for good reason. He'll do anything for money, including killing innocents according to Boba. Where has his Code of Honor gone?

I'll tell you where.

No one ever respected Cad the way he tried to respect them. No one offered or afforded him the same luxury. Every time he was near to forming a decent partnership with someone, they turned right around and stabbed him in the back. We at least see it with Rako/Obi and Boba on screen. Bossk and Embo count too, for me. Maybe Jango was the only one he could trust. Him and Todo 360, which he was not around until long after Jango's death and in some form could have been a fractional replacement for companionship.

To throw in a few thoughts on Hondo, he knew them both well. Imagine if Hondo also kept secrets from Bane, whether intentional or not, or perhaps befriended him only to manipulate him for his own gain (which is definitely something that could happen). He speaks favorably of him in "Secrets of the Bounty Hunters," and calls him his friend, but he calls everyone that.

At one point they did work together as per the blurb on the back of a toy called the "Pirate Speeder bike," that features Cad Bane and a Starhawk speeder. If Hondo also betrayed him at some point, I can see it only adding fuel to the fire, IF Bane allowed him close to begin with. Considering his reputation, it's possible that no, he did not, but I also ship Cad Bane and Hondo Ohnaka as well as Jango Fett and Cad Bane. I won't go into it here, but I can see them being an insanely toxic, yet perfect match.

To sum it up, yes, he is totally depressed. I feel like this is why. Can't change my mind.

---

P.S.: This is also a lesson in how to cite your sources and give credit where credit is due when thinking about headcanons and fandom fun. :) Ain't so hard, right?

#Cad Bane #Headcanons #Duros #Star Wars #Jango Fett #Boba Fett #Book of Boba Fett #Clone Wars #The Bad Batch #Todo 360 #Bounty Hunters

[echo-lover]

Hello there!

A few of my favorite Star Wars headcanons about clones

• Parental instinct

I've noticed that some clones have a highly developed paternal instinct.

I think Cut with his little family is not only one.

Hunter showed concern for childrens safety from the very beginning, like Kaleb and Gungi (surviving Wookie Jedi). He looks after Omega like his own daughter, as do the rest of the Bad Batch. Hunter definitely plays the role od father in his team as a responsible and a little overprotective leader.

Echo is the most mature in my opinion and in my eyes he will always be a mommy.

Waxer immediately felt the need to care for the newly met child and had no problem with hugging or comforting little Numa when she started crying. I just know that he loved children and secretly dreamed of starting a family, but he put himself entirely at being a soldier and protecting those who can not protect themselves.

Even Boil had grown strong bond owith Numa after some time and wanted to protect her at all costs.

I think Rex would also make a great father figure. He felt a strong need to take care of others. He acted as a mentor or an older brother for Ahsoka, and when he met Omega, he immediately got in touch with her. It's worth mentioning how he immediately stood between her and Bad Batch when he found out that the boys hadn't removed their chips yet. He remembered perfectly well what happened during Order 66. I'm sure he felt guilty that he had almost executed his longtime friend who trusted him with all her heart. He also felt responsible for his brothers who died in this tragic event.

I think this paternal instinct comes straight from Jango Fett's genes, who cared for Boba and loved him, and adopt him as his son. Jango asked specifily for him and knew from the very beggining that he want to adopt this kid. The Mandalorian culture is known for being easily attached to children, and they often decided to adopt kids, as fathers and mothers, and raise them like their own.

• Overprotective Hunter

Hunter is, in my opinion, the most sensitive and emotionally mature of the Bad Batch. He can read the feelings of others, especially those closest to him, so he always knew when something was wrong. Perhaps his enhanced senses have something to do with this.

He also has a tendency to be overprotective.

As a leader, he put the good of the squad before his own. I'm sure that running and hiding from the Empire, the constant pressure on his shoulders, was very tiring for him.

Hunter tried to protect Omega and his brothers the best way he could. That's why, the loss of any member of his family was a hard shoot in the heart for him. He sees it as a personal failure, as he failed his loved ones. He may start to think that Crosshair's words as true, that maybe he shouldn't be the leader, but he hasn't told anyone about his feelings and his own doubts.

But I think Echo knew... Echo knew that Hunter was worried and tired of the constant responsibility.

• Hunter and his senses

Hunter is a synesthete. This means that what he feels with one of his senses also affects the others. For example: he sees sounds, he can taste colors or numbers have colors for him. His synesthesia is a side effect of his enhanced senses.

Due to his heightened senses, Hunter also felt pain more intense than the other clones.

I still remember the moment Omega snuggled up to him after rescuing her when she was kidnapped by Cad Bane. Hunter winced in pain for a moment as his chest wound still was fresh. He had been shot with a blaster and almost get himself k!lled, and yet the most important thing to him was Omega. He ignored his own discomfort and focused fully on Omega, making sure nothing happened to his little girl. The expression of pain quickly turned into relief.

• Family

Some time after Omega joined the Bad Batch, they agreed on the role of family members:

Omega is their little sister, of course Hunter play the role of a father, while Echo is hailed as a mother. Our grumpy little bean muttered something about this being stupid idea at first, but in the end he liked being called mommy Echo.

Echo is a great addition to this crazy squad. He is the most experienced and can keep his family in line. It will never stop to amaze me how much good and love is hidden in the heart of a man who has never known a moment of comfort in his life and to whom no one has ever shown love. His physical and mental health were very bad after the events at Skako Minor. There was almost nothing left of the inexperienced Reg from the 501st Legion. Despite this, he will always remain my favorite character in all of Star Wars universe.

Wrecker is basically a second baby and needs to be looked after more than Omega, because if you let him out of your sight for a moment, he'll probably make a big mess.

Wrecker had the mind of a child trapped in the body of a large man. He is strong and could cause fear, but he have a soft heart. He cared for those closest to him, especially Omega. When his little sister was having a bad day and was sad, Wrecker was the first to make her laugh and even shared Lula, his beloved doll, with her.

I like to think that Tech and Crosshair are sort of twins (like Echo and Fives) they're a great duo and I miss their interaction so much. Tech, as the wise one, did not get in the way of the others, offering his advice when needed. Crosshair, on the other hand, although he seems cold and very distant, I think he would quickly like Omega and become a supportive, slightly sarcastic brother to her.

• Crosshair is not as cold as he looks

Crosshair hated being different, and called a freak from the very beggining. All his life he tried to blend in, to do his job well as a soldier, and as a member of the team. He didn't show it, but he was touched by other people's words about their group, different look, and specific abilities. That's why he hated Regs so much, he wanted to prove his worth to them. And also to himself.

When I saw Crosshair for the first time, I thought that he must have quite low self-esteem and become nervous in stressful situations. Whenever he took off his helmet, we saw him immediately reach for a toothpick. He felt the need to have something in his mouth to relieve the stress and tension in his body. He always seemed to me to be the type of perfectionist who pays great attention to detail and will practice until he achieves perfection in a specific field.

Despite his specific style, Crosshair wasn't as cold as he seemed. He really cared about Omega, and I'm sure that if they had the chance to spend more time together, Crosshair would like the girl and treat her like his little sister. He will destroy anyone who tries to harm Omega.

I also think that Crosshair secretly loves animals, especially cats. I imagined that it started with Wrecker once bring a white, homeless kitten to the Marauder. The animal started fawning at Crosshair's legs and refused to leave him even for a second. In the end, Cross liked it, petted him and cuddled with him, and even let him sleep in bed with him. Having a pet was a stress reliever for him. He named his kitten Alpine.

• The past still hurts, just as much as before

Echo often had terrible nightmares. We can see in the Bad Batch, that his PTSD was still very strong. Every contact with medical equipment could trigger a severe panic attack and anxiety. Fortunately, Omega was there to support him at the time. I'm always touched that even though Echo didn't know Omega back then, he trusted her enough that her presence really helped him come back to reality and understand that he was safe.

I'm sure that he had nightmares about being tortured and locked at Skako Minor, and also dreamed of Fives. I think because of this he may have even been afraid to fall asleep, and as a result he slept very little.

He missed his brother so much and blamed himself for not being there when he died. Echo was afraid of being locked up and deprived of help, so he tried to get involved as much as possible in the fight against the Empire. I think that was one of the main reasons he went back to Rex.

I also think that Echo and Tech had long conversations and spent a lot of time together while repairing or piloting the ship. They got along the best of the whole team and only with Tech, Echo felt relaxed enough to be able to talk about his feelings and problems he was struggling with. Tech never asked, like the overprotective Hunter, he just listened, and that was enough for Echo to discover a soul mate similar to his fallen brother, Fives.

I imagine one night Tech found out that Echo couldn't sleep and asked him what happened. Echo was so surprised that someone actually asked him how he felt that he didn't know what to say at first. He finally decided to open up and confess what was on his mind. Tech understood him and they became very close from then on. That's why Echo suffered so much after losing Tech. He felt as if he had lost half of his soul again.

I imagine that, Echo was the only one from the Bad Batch to still use Mando'a. He and Fives used to speak this language among themselves. Fives nicknamed him Ech'ika (little Echo). Now, Echo used to call Omega ad'ika. After Fives death, Echo sang an old anthem - Vode an (Brothers all) to honor the memory of his fallen brother. They had learned it when they were still cadets and used to sing it together before going into battle and all 501st knew the lyrics. This is one of my favorite headcanons.

I'm sure that Echo got a tattoo of a five in honor of Fives' death. In this way he always carried his brother with him and wanted to honor his memory.

• Nightmares

Omega took a while to get used to her new home after leaving Kamino. I imagine she often had nightmares that made her afraid to go to sleep alone. Hunter saw that and let the little girl sleep with him. He told her some stories about the planets they had visited on missions, and the bond between them grew stronger. He didn't admit it, but he had fond memories of those times together.

• Fives and his twin

If Fives survived, he would be the first to side with Rex to save Echo. Seeing his beloved brother alive, but connected to computer and badly hurt, he would be both happy and devastated at the same time. Fives would do absolutely anything to be reunited with his beloved twin, even if the whole Galaxy was against him and thought he's crazy.

After being rescued, Fives would make sure Echo was fewling comfortable and help him overcome his PTSD episodes. Then he would join the Bad Batch with Echo, because he didn't wanted him to feel different. Despite some problems, the Bad Batch accepted them as their own and they became very close, like family. I pictured them sitting around fire and how they shared stories from various missions together.

Then Fives saw that Echo was trully happy. He hugged him close, and when Echo asked what happened, Fives simply replied, "I'm just happy you're here, vod'ika. That's all."

• Astronomy lesson

Tech taught Omega astronomy. How to read sky maps and name constellations. They often sat together at night, watching the sky. Hunter would get a little angry when they stay up too late, fearing that both his brother and little sister would be sick, but his anger faded quickly when he saw the smile on Omega's face. Papa Hunter would do anything to make his little girl happy.

• Two captains

Howzer is Rex's twin, like Fives and Echo. They are giving the same vibe. They trained together from an early age, still as cadets, and then the war separated them. They are also very similar in character. Courageous and great leaders, they do not abandon their people until the very end. I feel they would get along pretty well.

• Brothers for life

Cody was like an older brother to Rex. His ore'vod. He trusted him the most of all the clones.They were inseparable from the beginning of the war and became very close after the Umbara ARC. I imagine Cody was comforting a devastated Rex. He knew perfectly well that under the mask of captain's determination there was a lot of pain and suffering after loss of many brothers. They were both good people who saw a lot of evil and death in their lives. They carried mourning in their hearts and finaly were able tolet go all their emotions. It was the first time Rex had let tears flow in his brother's arms. He felt loved and safe, and Cody didn't let him go for a long time. From this moment, they looked at each other a bit differently, carefully analyzing the other's emotions and making sure that everything was okay. Besides being strong and serious leaders, they were caring and loving brothers on the inside.

Also, I just know that they were having small competition. The 501st and 212th were competing against each other as to which legion/batalion was more effective in combat. General Kenobi and Anakin secretly supported this fun game.

• Suffering medic

Kix put a lot of pressure on himself as a medic. He wanted to save as many lives as possible and not let a single soldier die. He always fought to the very end, refusing to rest until the last man was healed. Each death of his brother was equally painful for him and he treated it as a personal failure.

Umbara left a huge mark on him. He failed. So many of his brothers had fallen, and he worked until he was breathless. Only when he was so exhausted, that he could no longer stand on his own, he agreed to take a break.

Kix sat alone against the wall, looking at his hands, and cried quietly. His hands and armor were covered with the blood of his brothers. Some of them were badly hurt, others didn't make it. Kix wished he were in their place right now and felt guilty. It was hard for him to be the one that survived.

He didn't know how long he sat like that, but at one moment he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and a calm voice that he recognized immediately. It was Jesse. His best friend, his brother... Jesse told him that he did everything he could, that it wasn't his fault, but Kix wasn't convinced.

Then Jesse, seeing how bad his brother's condition was, that he started shaking, without thinking much, he wrapped his arms around Kix, pulling him into a tight hug. The medic did not protest and gave vent to his emotions and helplessness. It was the first time anyone was interested in his health. He had always been responsible for others and now someone was taking care of him. It felt nice, warm... Kix hugged back his brother and they both know that they feel the same way.

#clone wars #bad batch #headcanon #clones #captain rex #commander cody #hunter bad batch #tbb echo #tech bad batch #tbb crosshair #captain howzer #star wars #headcanons #family #brothers in arms

[nateofgreat]

"Okay Dave, so, on one hand we've got two Jedi Masters with the ability to move things with their minds and deflect lasers. Each is a war veteran who's fought armies of blaster wielding foes and one's even fought Sith Lords! And on the other we have a criminal wielding guns."

Dave Filoni: ... But Cad Bane's wearing a cowboy hat like me!

"Yes yes I know but, I'm just saying, does it really make sense for him to get the upper hand on two elite wizard's who've dealt with opponents much more dangerous than Cad Bane, a bounty hunter with two guns and a flamethrower?"

Dave Filoni: You're right... I'll have Cad Bane disarm one of them and take one of their lightsabers.

"... And lose, right? I mean you've never even mentioned Cad Bane having lightsaber training and even if he did he couldn't possibly match a Jedi with the-"

Dave Filoni: COWBOY HAT! *Has Cad Bane defeat Obi-Wan in lightsaber combat*

#Star Wars #anti Cad Bane #Cad Bane critical #Dave Filoni critical

[pizza-writes]

Famous Last Words

Hunter x Fem!Reader

Summary: You’ve been kidnapped and it’s up to Hunter and the boys to save you.

Warnings: kidnapping, mention of violence, the kidnapper being creepy with reader

Rating: 16+ for mentions of certain violence that is probably not appropriate for young eyes

Notes: This is pre-Echo era. Sorry, y’all. Also I actually really like the antagonist in this but I made him extra creepy because I wanted to give Hunter ✨Motivation✨

Word count: 1.8k

You stared down the mirage an uncountable distance from where you stood. The heat paved the way for sweat to coat your skin. It was disgusting. Dry, unforgiving, ruthless, exhausting. One might wonder if you were describing the climate or the chilling presence of the bounty hunter flanking you.

“I would never let someone kidnap me.”

Famous last words. That was your exact response to Hunter’s concern in Mos Espa. Looking back, you would slap yourself if you had the chance. But, seeing that you don’t have an inter-dimensional third hand that can clap through the thick skull of your past self, you opted for a very deep sigh—one of many you’d very expressively given to your captor.

Speaking of which, Cad Bane took that as a sign to rest his hand on your shoulder. Yeah, that’s right. Cad Bane. Oh how you wished for that third hand… His blaster’s barrel flirted with your temple and ensured that you didn’t make any moves. You felt his uncanny patience through the thick, hot air of the desert planet.

“Maybe I won’t give you back,” the man drawled, bringing to close a soliloquy he’d started an eternity ago. “I’d be far fetched to let such a pretty thing go.”

You shifted your weight and huffed out another long sigh. The blue guy snickered at you but you ignored him. No, he wouldn’t win. You’d keep your cool.

The throng of an engine met your ears and you perked up. The Havoc Marauder buzzed over and landed close-by, sending clouds of sand into the air. You eyed Bane—he, like his goons that he had hired for this op, remained unfazed. His poise stood calm even when Hunter and Wrecker emerged from the shuttle with vengeance in their stride.

“We have the credits,” Hunter said. He stopped short when Bane’s men forced him to.

“Shame. I was just reconsidering our arrangement. See, clone, I don’t think you realize what a fine gem you had.”

You glared at him. “They didn’t ‘have’ me, perve.”

“He didn’t train you very well, did he, pet?”

You winced and pulled away, but he held you down, calling you a “naughty girl.” Hunter’s visor caught sunlight as it tilted downward. His hand drifted to his side arm.

“Your move, clone.”

Hunter paused and his head cocked to the side. His hand shifted. You recognized the signal for the unseen marksman.

“I don’t think so,”

You frowned. Bane chortled.

“Scared?”

Hunter must have sensed something that you couldn’t. His tone steadied as he said, “You come to me,”

“Walk, little lady.”

Wrecker and Hunter simultaneously brought out their blasters. Hunter shook his head. “No. Be a gentleman and walk her over,”

“Think she can’t walk? I didn’t actually have my way with her.”

Wrecker thrust his blaster towards Bane. “Talk about her like that one more time.”

In an instant, all of the men surrounding you mirrored him. Hunter scanning the group, blaster ready. Your captor tutted. “Don’t threaten me, boy. I have more than twice the firepower.”

You chuckled as the Marauder’s cannons fired up. “Idiot.”

Hunter stood a little taller, “You’ll come to me if it’s safe to walk that path through the energy field. Now, you’re going to escort Y/N to me or you’ll get to see just how much firepower we have.”

“I’m no fool. You’d better not try anything,”

“Don’t tempt me,”

The blue man sighed. He grabbed your bicep tightly and forced you to the side. With a frown, you complied. He took a very curved path to get to your guys. A few paces away from Hunter, Bane stopped and pushed you. You stumbled into Hunter who kept you upright, staring the other man down. You didn’t really need to hold onto him, but with his arm around you, it was the perfect excuse.

“How did you know?”

Hunter’s voice rumbled through his chest, “I have my ways,”

Bane nodded and looked back at you, red eyes piercing your soul before he tipped his hat. “Goodbye, little lady. You were lovely.”

“Don’t push it,” Hunter warned. Bane raised both hands in surrender and slowly backed away. Hunter dropped the case of credits into the sand. It rattled, audibly exposing the hefty price he’d gathered in return for you.

“Sarge,” Wrecker muttered, raising his blaster.

Hunter’s helmet jerked up to the man with a data pad in hand furiously tapping. The goons suddenly scattered away from the field Hunter had had you walk around. Hunter shouted into his comm, “Now!”

Bane lurched forward with a shout, falling to his knees. The man with the data pad collapsed, splaying across the ground. Steam rose steadily from a hole in his back. Then another did the same, followed by another. Bane looked up at Hunter in anger.

“You broke the rules, clone!”

Hunter silently nodded to Wrecker. The big man scooped you up and took off running.

You looked back as Cross’s blaster bolt struck the blue man again. This one didn’t hit home. Bane struggled to his feet and engaged the thrusters on his boots. In an instant he flew overhead and caught up with you. He began a volley of blaster fire on your trio but Hunter quickly sent him careening towards the sand. You loaded up in the ship and Wrecker towered by the open ramp, covering Hunter until he made it aboard. You raced to the cockpit as Tech took the shuttle towards a nearby plateau. That was where you spotted Crosshair packing up his gear. Tech swooped in to pick him up, and soon you were headed for the stars.

“Yea-hah!” Wrecker shouted as he barged into the cockpit, followed by the other two. “Another successful mission!”

You gasped, a faux look of hurt on your face. “That’s… all I am to you?”

His expression dropped, “I—er… no, you’re… that’s—“

With a laugh, you got up and hugged him tight. “I’m messing, Wrecker. Thanks for coming for me,”

He grinned and picked you up in a near-bone-crushing hug. “We missed you, Y/N!”

“Augh I missed you too. Maker, I missed you guys.” You caught a glance of Hunter. He stood taut, brows furrowed. That same dark expression stayed on his face.

“You are one expensive mission,” Tech glanced at you as Wrecker set you down. “15,000 credits.”

“Not really!” Wrecker danced in place a moment and shoved past Hunter and Cross to the back of the ship. You watched him pick up a small box. He returned, huge smile on his face. “I picked this up with one of Cross’s blaster attachments before we took off.”

“Normally, you’d be dead,” Cross hummed, sticking a fresh toothpick between his teeth, “but I guess this can slide.”

Hunter patted his brother’s shoulder, “Good job, Wrecker.” Then to Crosshair: “And nice shooting up there. Don’t think we would’ve made it out of there without you.”

Cross and Wrecker both gave Hunter an appreciative grin. You glanced at your pilot, “You too, Tech. Thanks for decoding my awful distress call.”

“It was not difficult.”

After a while of discussing the meat of the mission, Hunter set a hand on your shoulder and nodded to the door. You followed him out.

You patted Gonky’s head lovingly as you strode past him. Standing next to Hunter, you sighed, appreciating the feeling of being home. The Marauder didn’t smell or look the best, but it was home, and so were the four troops that manned it. This especially stood for Hunter. Over some time, you two had grown much closer than you ever could’ve dreamt.

When he turned to face you the puppy-ness of his eyes caught you off-guard. He took both of your hands in his. “Did they hurt you?”

You met his soft gaze and shook your head. “They hardly touched me. I think they were only interested in the payment until Bane caught eyes.”

His expression went dark again. “Did that bastard—”

“No,” you shook your head and reached up to cup his cheek reassuringly. “he told the truth.” You sighed, “I’m sorry about all of this. I don’t know how I got separated from you all. It all happened so quickly.”

“Cyare, there was nothing you could’ve done,”

“There’s always something I could’ve done different. I could’ve stayed with you. I could’ve paid better attention. I could’ve listened to you—”

“Shh,” he hushed, running his fingers through your hair. “What-if’s won’t change anything,” He shook his head. “What’s done is done. And you’re here now. You’re safe.”

He rested his forehead against yours, arms wrapping around your middle. His brows furrowed, “I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I’d be even more okay if you kissed me,”

He smiled, leaning in slowly, “Tempting.”

You tilted your head to meet his. His lips brushed yours but he held back. You breathed slowly, taking in the moment. His warmth fanned across your face, sending comfort through your bones, and you knew that there was nothing in the galaxy you would trade for him. His protective arms draped around you, his forehead pressed against yours. You melted into him, letting your shoulders relax for the first time in days.

And then he kissed you so gently. You wondered for a moment if you’d imagined it. He pulled you in and deepened the kiss, holding onto you like you might be torn away at any moment. You gradually backed up until your back was pressed against the wall. His touch addicting, your deprived heart drew his in.

“We probably shouldn’t do this here,” he hummed. You paused to listen to his reasoning, but Hunter continued to leave long kisses along your neck, making it difficult to focus on anything else.

“I think you’re right,”

Hunter sighed and stood straight, peering longingly down at you. His voice was velvet to your ears. “I missed you, meshla,”

“Yes, but this isn’t the best place… Later?”

He grinned, tilting your chin up between his finger and thumb. He lowered his tone and said, “Anything for you, cyare.”

“Hmm, I bet they’re wondering what’s taking so long.”

“Frankly, if any of them don’t know at this point, I’d be shocked.”

You took his hand and left a final lingering kiss on his lips. “We still don’t want one of your bored brothers coming back here and seeing something he shouldn’t.”

“Maybe I don’t mind,” he slinked his arms back around you. As if on queue the cockpit’s door hissed open and Hunter jolted back, eyes wide as his face of horror donned. Wrecker froze, staring at him. Crosshair’s face melted into that of a sly cat.

You burst out laughing.

Famous last words.

//~//~//

Thanks so much for reading! Don’t forget to comment and reblog to show support for the artists of tumblr!

Masterlist

#the bad batch #hunter tbb #tbb #the bad batch one shots #the clone wars #tbb x reader #tcw #the bad batch fanfic #tbb hunter x reader

[thebadbatchfan]

I AM NOT OKAY!!!

enjoy my random notes from the two new episodes (contains spoilers!!)

it’s literally just be rambling… again spoilers below the cut!!

- I don’t like where this is going

- Cad Bane??

- I did not miss his ugly ass face

- TECH?? (in the tube)

- they’re just kids?? 😭😭

- I stg if he takes the baby!!

- NOOOO poor baby

- at least todo gave the baby the doll

- Emerie I knew you’d be good deep down

- #bringevahome

- Jax, Eva and

- yes Nala Se guilt trip her!!

- can’t they just kill Hemlock already

- CID AND PHEE????? (trandosian and pirate) the gasp that I let out when he mentioned the trandosian omg

- THE TOOKA DOLL

- she gave eva the tooka oh my god 😭😭

- Phee!!

- OH NO PHEE

- tech?? maybe?? tech going after phee??

- not the location of Pabu 😭💀

- CID YOU BITCH

- wrecker hunter crosshair yayyy!!

- the young clones!!

- NOT HIS GOGGLES

- AND THE TOOKA???

- wrecker be nice to gonky

- NO GO AWAY GO AWAY GO AWAY

- I AM DISTRAUGHT

- he sounds so much like tech and crosshair???

- NOOOOOOO

- NOT THE MAURADER

- WRECKER OH MY GOD

- IM GONNA KMS

- WHAT THE FUCK

- LEAVE PABU ALONE

- omega no it’s not your fault

- y’all i’m so scared

- domicile???? TECH??

- shep be careful

- at least they aren’t killing random civilians??

- BATCHER

- Wrecker is okay thank God

- i cannot breathe

- “we’re running out of road!” hasn’t happened yet so i know wrecker is fine at least

- HUNTER I STG

- omega don’t give urself up

- NO NO NO

- crosshair don’t let her do it please i’m begging

- NO OMEGA

- crosshair plz be safe

- wet hunter!! the girlies are gonna be feral!

- i’m not enjoying this 0/10

- CROSSHAIR

- FUCKING HELL

- THE CLIFFHANGER OMFGFF

#star wars #tbb spoilers #CID I HOPE YOU DIE #tech is clone X trust #sw tbb #tbb #the bad batch #bad batch #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #omega tbb #crosshair tbb #hunter tbb #tbb season 3 #tbb echo #the bad batch season 3 #crosshair the bad batch #the bad batch crosshair #the bad batch spoilers #tech is alive

[cakbanedraws]

Haven't watch Fallout Series yet, but this noseless cowboy makes me interest to watch it....

Don't mention it, he reminds of-

Dang, this is actually humanized Cad Bane

#fallout #fallout series #fallout show #the ghoul #cad bane #finally a good fucking cowboy character #star wars