#Hondo Ohnaka x You

[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

[that-sw-writer]

Carpe Diem

Summary: Hondo Ohnaka plays matchmaker for his favourite Jedi, much to Obi-Wan's dismay.

Relationship: Obi-Wan x Reader (fem, no use of Y/N)

Notes: this story is more about Hondo being the bane of Obi-Wan's life than it is about the relationship, it's been sat in my drafts for a year so I gave it a swift ending.

Carpe Diem

'Kenobi, why the long face?' Hondo threw himself down beside a disgruntled Obi-Wan, who was nursing a drink in his left hand as he slumped over the table.

'Because it's been two rotations since I heard from the council and I think another night spent here is going to be the death of me.'

'You wound me, Master Jedi. What is there not to like about crash landing on Hondo's turf?' He grinned, throwing an arm around Obi-Wan, who merely grimaced. He didn't hate Hondo, per se. He just found him... exhausting.

'Perhaps the fact that last time I had a prolonged stay here, I was being held hostage by you. Pardon me if I don't trust your sudden sense of hospitality.'

'Bah! Do not cling to the past, Kenobi. I would never sell you out.' Obi-Wan gave him a pointed look. 'What? It would not be profitable to bring the Separatists here. The Republic, on the other hand, will pay handsomely for your stay.'

'Mm, quite.' Too tired to argue, Obi-Wan returned to sulking into his drink. He had been sure to pour his own drinks whilst in Hondo and his pirates' company; especially after last time.

'Jedi... so boring.' Hondo flapped his arms in his usual theatrical manner as he went off to bother somebody else. A long sigh left Obi-Wan's lips as he drained the contents of his glass. Maker, he must have looked so miserable. The council had assured him that a pickup was imminent, but the nature of war meant that plans were always subject to delays. He knew they were coming for him, he just didn't know when. Not to mention that he wasn't sure how much more of Hondo's babbling he could take. But, he knew he had to remain calm. The Council would be sending someone to collect him and, provided he remained unharmed, Hondo would likely receive his credits as compensation. It was just his luck that he would crash on Florrum. All these pirates did was drink, thieve, drink some more, and create more noise than Obi-Wan had ever thought possible. He had barely slept a wink for the past few nights. If the noise wasn't bad enough, Hondo's "guest quarters," as he had called them, were just a repurposed cell. Obi-Wan had decided that he would never complain about the hard beds aboard Jedi cruisers again.

After too long spent wallowing in his self-pity, he decided to retire for the night and meditate in the privacy of his "guest quarters." What caught his attention before he could leave the room was a voice he didn't recognise, one that stood out from the crowd. Whoever this was, they were yelling at one of Hondo's men in a Coruscanti accent similar to his own.

'Be a thieving pirate all you like, but do not test me. Give me my credits, or you won't make it to the end of that drink.' As Obi-Wan approached, he saw a blaster being pointed at one of Hondo's right-hand men. The woman behind it appeared to be very calm. Despite her cutting words, her tone remained level - something about her demeanour made Obi-Wan believe that she meant her threat.

'I'm not payin' for a job that didn't get completed.' The pirate slurred, his drink sloshing over the brim of his glass as he threw his arms up in protest.

'Are you trying to scam me, or are you just plain stupid?' Perhaps emphasising her point, she tapped the pirate's forehead with the barrel of her blaster. He was about to respond and escalate the situation even more, but Obi-Wan stepped in before he could. He knew it was none of his business, but it was his natural instinct as a Jedi to help.

'I'd assume he's both.' With the same calm tone as hers, but lacking the vicious edge, Obi-Wan caught the woman's attention. She glanced at him, whilst her blaster remained pointed at the pirate. Her eyes scanned him up and down, doing a double-take.

'A Jedi... on Florrum?' Her brow furrowed.

'Yes. Although this isn't my first choice of holiday destination, believe me.' His words made the corners of her lips turn up into the smallest of smirks. Obi-Wan felt an uncontrollable desire to smile back at her. It seemed as though his usual composure had abandoned him... perhaps Hondo had encouraged him to have one too many drinks.

'Are drunken pirates not your thing?' She laughed and his heart rate increased. Why? Why did it increase?

'Are they yours?' He nodded his head towards the drunkard at the end of her blaster.

'Don't get clever with me, Jedi-' she was smirking, but her expression dropped when she spotted movement in her peripherals. The pirate she had been arguing with was trying to sneak away from his impending death. Obi-Wan could tell that didn't sit well with this mystery woman. 'And you,' she launched forward, grabbing the pirate by his neck, 'better have those credits in my account by sunrise, otherwise, I'll make you regret ever being born. Am I understood?' Her last sentence was punctuated by her blaster tapping the pirate's temple.

'Yeah, yeah.' He slurred, flapping his arms as he stumbled away. Obi-Wan could sense that the pirate knew her threat was genuine. Her blaster was finally holstered and she turned to face him properly.

'I hope you're not expecting a thank you.' She raised an eyebrow.

'Not at all, I've come to expect very little from the clientele around here.' His reply elicited a short laugh from her.

'Very wise.' Neither of them spoke another word, but neither of them moved away. Obi-Wan could feel the Force poking at him, pointing out an unspoken desire to keep the conversation going. But, he bottled it.

'Anyway, it was a pleasure to meet you, but I was just about to retire for the evening.' He couldn't read her expression, but he thought that was probably for the best. He wished he'd forced himself to find something else to talk about; in his head, he could picture Anakin making fun of him. A snarky comment along the lines of: 'veryyy smooth, Master.' sprung to mind.

'Right, you're a Jedi,' she gave a slow nod and a flash of something akin to disappointment crossed her face.

'Meaning?' Rest forgotten, his brow quirked.

'Meaning... you're a Jedi. Lightsaber swinging, righteous, peacekeeper with morals.' Her nose scrunched at the last word.

'And I suppose spending my evening surrounded by immoral, uncivilised criminals doesn't fit that job description.' His eyes widened as he realised the implications of his words, 'not that you're an immoral, uncivilised criminal. I-I mean, you're... you know, you're...' As he continued to stumble over every syllable he tried to utter, she burst into laughter.

'I'm sure I should be flattered by whatever it is that you're trying to insinuate, Master Jedi. But, your first observation was right: I am all of those things, and hanging around people like me doesn't fit your job description.' Every word that left her lips convinced Obi-Wan more and more that she had some kind of Force sensitivity that was causing him to melt on the spot. There she was, admitting to him that she was a criminal - he had already seen her threaten someone at blaster-point. But, something about her was more intoxicating than anything Hondo had offered him to drink. Silence befell the pair of them again, but this time Obi-Wan decided to seize the moment and stop the Anakin-like voice in his head from mocking him.

'I'm sure one more drink before retiring won't hurt. Besides, since I've been here I've found it hard to sleep with all the noise.'

'Yeah, you get used to that.'

'Would you care to join me?' He really felt like he was putting his life on the line here. Dozens of Battle Droids could be standing before him and he wouldn't break a sweat. But, a beautiful bounty hunter and suddenly his resolve was crumbling. She looked somewhat surprised by his invitation, but a smile soon settled on her face.

'Sure, why not? Drinking with a Jedi isn't something you get offered every day.' Obi-Wan nodded in response and glanced to his left, looking for a quieter spot that would keep him away from the prying eyes and ears of pirates. He saw some empty seats at the end of a long table that was littered with Hondo's clientele, all drinking and jeering with one another. The pair of them sat down, but it dawned upon him that he was out of his depth in this setting.

'I, uh- I'm not entirely sure how you get drinks here.' He exhaled a sheepish chuckle, 'usually, I pour my own.'

'And why's that? You don't seem like the bartending type to me.'

'Let's just say that last time Hondo poured me a drink, I woke up in handcuffs.' He grimaced at the memory... handcuffed to Dooku and Anakin no less.

'Handcuffed?' She laughed, 'that was probably just Hondo's idea of a good time.' Normally he would have rolled his eyes at such a comment, but when it came from her he couldn't help but match her laughter.

'Believe me, these circumstances weren't what anybody would describe as a "good time."'

'Maybe where you're from, Master Jedi, but I think you'll find that there are a lot of things we enjoy here that you might... well, arrest us for.'

'Do my eyes deceive me-' A voice cut through the crowd and Obi-Wan willed the ground to swallow him up, '-or is Kenobi still here?' Hondo threw himself down at the table and looked between the pair of them. 'Socialising nonetheless!' He cackled.

'Hondo, do you not have somewhere else you should be?' Obi-Wan hoped he would pick up on the subtle hints in his tone, but who was he kidding? Hondo wouldn't pick up on it if he had outwardly told him to leave him alone with the outlandishly beautiful bounty hunter.

'Somewhere else? You mistake me, Kenobi. I am here to attend to my very esteemed Jedi guest and his-' Hondo's gaze moved to his companion '-new friend.'

'Hondo, always a pleasure.' She greeted him with what Obi-Wan could only describe as a flawless smile. It seemed almost like a reflex - something she had perfected through years of practice.

'Ah! My favourite hunter spending time with my favourite Jedi - what a surprise this is.'

'You should be thanking him, he stopped me from killing one of your crew.' She shot Obi-Wan a smirk. He willed himself to remain composed, especially with Hondo there.

'If he had died, I am sure it would have been deserved,' Hondo flapped his arm in dismissal before throwing it around Obi-Wan's shoulders. He responded to this with a disgruntled expression. 'Of course, this dashing Jedi Master stepped in to save the day. He is, after all, a hero.' Hondo exhaled a whimsical sigh, and Obi-Wan's brow furrowed. He was never this complimentary without an ulterior motive, only he couldn't work out the angle this time.

'I'll drink to that.' Despite Hondo's odd behaviour, she didn't seem to be discouraged.

'But alas, you have no drink,' Hondo shook his head and tutted. 'Kenobi, how could leave your lady-friend sat here practically dying of thirst?'

'I never-' he began to protest, much to his "lady-friend's" amusement.

'-come come, Kenobi. Let us go and fetch the drinks.' Hondo was ushering him out of his seat before he had a chance to process what was happening. He gave a fleeting glance back at the bounty hunter and decided that this was all worth it when he saw the way she laughed. He followed Hondo over to the bar, where hordes of pirates were gathering to get themselves drinks - many of which were sloshing out over the brim of the glasses as they stumbled away.

'What in the stars are you doing, Hondo?' He pinched the bridge of his nose, only speaking once they were out of earshot.

'Me?' He gasped, holding a hand to his chest. 'Why, Kenobi, I am just trying to enjoy an evening with my esteemed guest. How was I supposed to know that you would be socialising with your new friend?' There was a wry tone to his words.

'She's a bounty hunter, Hondo. We aren't friends, per se.'

'Not friends at all it seems. In fact, Hondo would wager that you're more than friends.' He elbowed Obi-Wan, letting out a loud cackle. As Obi-Wan stammered over his words, trying to make up some kind of viable excuse, Hondo leaned over the bar and ordered a round of drinks. When his attention returned to the Jedi, he laughed once again. 'Now now, Kenobi. There is no need for excuses.'

'I'm not making-' he began to huff, but Hondo didn't even register his voice.

'-what you need, Master Jedi, is a pep talk from old Hondo.' With a roll of his eyes, Obi-Wan attempted to interrupt, but Hondo shushed him. 'Kenobi, listen here. What happens on Florrum, stays on Florrum... mostly, anyway.'

'Wise words, as ever.' He snorted.

'Nevertheless! You must seize the day, Kenobi. That,' he gestured to the striking woman who now sat alone at the table, 'is one of the best bounty hunters in the outer rim. You would be a fool to let her pass you by.'

'You never do anything without an angle. You always have something to gain, I just can't work out what it is this time.'

'This is true, this true.' Hondo tutted, shaking his head, 'but can't old Hondo do something for an old Jedi friend out of the kindness of his own heart, just once?'

'No, you can't.' Obi-Wan raised an eyebrow as a momentary pause.

'Pish posh, Master Jedi.' Hondo threw himself to grab the tray of drinks when it arrived. 'I just want you to have a pleasant stay. Besides, if the Jedi council do ever arrive to collect you, I'm sure they'd be willing to heavily compensate such a... generous host.'

'So you mentioned.' If Obi-Wan had a credit for every time Hondo hinted at the Republic paying for his stay, he'd have enough for early retirement. 

'Come along now, you can't keep a bounty hunter waiting.' With that, he shoved the tray of drinks into Obi-Wan's hands and pushed him back towards the table. As they approached, his companion's face lit up and he swore he had never seen anything that beautiful in his life. 'How generous of Kenobi to buy all of the drinks,' Hondo announced unnecessarily loudly.

'Did he now?' He could tell that she understood Hondo's angle but must have found it amusing enough to play along.

'I told him that as his host, I would pay. But, he has insisted on giving me the credits back, didn't  you, Kenobi.' A hand outstretched in Obi-Wan's direction and he raised an eyebrow.

'Really?' He knew there was no point in arguing. With a roll of his eyes, he tossed a few credits into Hondo's palm. Any excuse to make money...

'You see that? Generous.' Hondo threw himself down beside the woman, opposite Obi-Wan.

'Hm, well that is the Jedi way, is it not?' She smirked over at him.

'I'm sure being generous isn't just limited to Jedi.' He chuckled, taking a long sip of his drink. Over the rim of the glass, he could see Hondo staring at him, as if he was expecting him to say something else. 

'It is in this place, trust me.' She laughed, but he noticed that she was eyeing up his silent exchange with Hondo. After a beat of silence, she exclaimed, 'Kriff, is that a fight over there?' She pointed over Hondo's shoulder and he immediately whipped around, 'shame nobody's taking bets.' She tutted and Obi-Wan had to drink again to hide a laugh at the pirate's expense. Hondo scrambled to his feet and cleared his throat.

'Alas, I have another business venture to pursue. Remember Kenobi, seize the day.' He yelled, before scurrying off. Obi-Wan put his head in his hands and groaned.

'I think I'm in your debt for that.' He withdrew his hands and drank the remainder of his drink at a faster pace than he would usually deem appropriate. 

'I'm sure we can find a way for you to repay me.' Her tone, combined with the words, had Obi-Wan's composure turning to dust.

'What do you have in mind?' He hadn't intended for his tone to sound as flirtatious as it did

'That depends, how attached are you to those Jedi morals of yours?' She paused, 'no pun intended.' Obi-Wan was slightly taken aback - was the forbidding  of attachment that well-documented? Even if it were, why did he care that she knew about it?

'I'm not one to question my morals, but the definition of attachment is... somewhat flexible.' He was losing himself in the thought of it; stranded with pirates, a bounty hunter who seemed as intelligent and dangerous as she did gorgeous, and a desire bubbling up that he hadn't felt in as long as he could remember. Was the attitude of the pirates rubbing off on him, or had he had too much to drink? Either way, he really wanted to kiss her.

'It's funny how spending time surrounded by... how did you put it? Immoral, uncivilised criminals can change a man.' Her teasing statement was accompanied by a sip of her drink, her gaze never leaving his from the rim of the glass. When she lowered her glass she took a bold step towards him, 'define flexible.' She smirked, and Obi-Wan thought his heart was going to burst out of his chest with the speed it was beating.

Maker, it wasn't as though he was going to marry her. He had heard tales of Jedi bending the rules in far more serious ways. For liquid courage, he drew his head far enough away from her to empty the remainder of his drink. 'Do you want the dictionary definition, or the metaphorical one?' Having regained some of his wit, he grinned at her and she rolled her eyes.

'You talk too much, Jedi.' She laughed, pulling him towards her so their lips would meet in a passionate blaze. He barely had a chance to react, but quickly settled into the kiss. It was safe to say that this was the highlight of his unplanned stay on Florrum - maybe it had even made the trip worthwhile. The pair's lips moved in tandem for a few moments longer before they separated. 'How do you fancy spending the night on my ship tonight? I may even throw in a lift home for you.' Their lips remained close and her voice was low - it was as if it were just the two of them in the room.

'I wouldn't dare decline, I've already seen what happens to those who get on your bad side.' He smirked and the way her face lit up with a laugh had Obi-Wan ready to do anything she wanted him to.

'What was it Hondo said? Seize the day, Master Jedi... meet me in the hanger in five.' Pressing a chaste kiss to his lips, she left his arms and disappeared into the crowd before he could utter another word - something he was struggling to manage. He shook himself off and moved to gather his belongings from the repurposed cell that had been his home for the past few days. This seemed like a win win situation - a night with the bounty hunter and he would be dropped back home.

'Kenobi!' Hondo bellowed across the room causing Obi-Wan to stop in his tracks and take a moment to breathe and centre himself as he prepared for another interaction with the pirate.

'Hondo, I'm afraid I'm retiring for the evening.' He uttered the moment the pair were face to face.

'Tssh, I thought better of you than lying Kenobi.' He tutted, shaking his head in his usual over-dramatic manner. 'Did you think I wasn't watching?'

'I hoped you weren't at least.' He muttered under his breath as Hondo continued his speech.

'Your lady friend is waiting for you, is she not? Now now, I won't keep you long, but it would not be right of me to let you go without giving you some tips-'

'-no no, that absolutely won't be necessary.' Obi-Wan interrupted faster than a pod-race on Tatooine. 'It's like you said Hondo, seize the day, carpe diem, all of that.' He grimaced, giving Hondo a pat on the shoulder as he slid past him and tried to continue his journey.

'Excellent, Kenobi, excellent!' Hondo called after him as he rushed off. 'Just remember, you wouldn't be here without Hondo and his hospitality during a trying time! I expect payment in full Master Jedi, otherwise your next stay will not be so pleasant!'

'Next stay...' Obi-Wan repeated under his breath, rolling his eyes, 'not a chance.' At last free of Hondo's watchful eye, he scurried to gather his belongings and rush to the hanger.

Perhaps, all things considered, crashing on a hostile planet wasn't the worst thing that could have happened to Obi-Wan.

[panic-in-the-multiverse]

Hondo, negotiating with Obi-Wan: We have Y/N. Give us ten thousand credits and they will be returned to you unharmed

Y/N: whoa, whoa, wait you think I’m only worth ten thousand credits?

Hondo: …

Y/N: MAKE IT ONE MILLION-

Obi-Wan: Y/N STOP

[captainsophiestark]

A Bad Idea

Obi-Wan Kenobi x Reader

Masterlist - Join My Taglist!

Written for Fictober 2023!

Fandom: Star Wars

Day 31 Prompt: "It's not your fault."

Summary: Obi-Wan and his best friend/fellow Jedi are getting Hondo's help on a mission. Predictably, things don't go according to their plan.

Word Count: 2,045

Category: Fluff, Humor

A/N: That's a wrap for Fictober gang! Thank you so much to @fictober-event for putting this whole thing on and to everyone who's read one of my stories! Honestly can't believe the amount of writing I got done for this event

Putting work into an AI program without permission is illegal. You do not have my permission. Do not do it.

"I think this might be the worst idea we've ever had."

"If you don't count ideas that Anakin came up with and we agreed to, then yes, it probably is."

Obi-Wan Kenobi and I stood shoulder to shoulder on the ramp of our ship, waving as the one and only Hondo Ohnaka came towards us. We'd recently gotten information that the Separatists were using a different group of pirates to smuggle things out of reach of the Republic, and together, Obi-Wan and I had decided the best way to infiltrate a pirate base was with the help of another pirate. On paper, it sounded perfectly rational, especially since we had a pirate contact we could go to. In reality, it was probably going to get us killed.

"Kenobi!" called Hondo once he got within earshot of us. "It is wonderful to see you again! And who is your lovely friend? A girlfriend, perhaps?"

Heat and embarrassment rushed through me, and I felt a wave of discomfort coming off of Obi-Wan in the Force too.

"Jedi don't typically date," he quickly explained, waving Hondo off. "And it wouldn't be any of your business anyway."

"I'm a friend of Obi-Wan's," I continued. "We grew up at the Temple together."

Hondo gave me a quick once over, then evaluated Obi-Wan the same way. Then, he smiled and held out his hand to me.

"Well, any friend of Obi-Wan's is a friend of mine! It is very nice to meet you, I'm sure!"

I forced a smile as I took his hand and shook it. I didn't think he'd meant to, but Honda had hit a very sore spot for me. I'd harbored feelings for my best friend for years now, against the Code, and I'd done my best every single day to hide them from him and from anyone else. A hundred Jedi who'd known me since birth couldn't tell, but this Weequay had hit the bullseye within moments of seeing me for the first time.

"Come on," Obi-Wan whispered to me, leaning in close to my ear so Hondo couldn't hear him as the Weequay moved past me into the ship. "The sooner we start this mission, the sooner it's officially over."

"Can't wait," I muttered. "And you said this guy was your friend?"

Obi-Wan shrugged. "More like... acquaintance who tries to kill me sometimes. Although I think he unironically considers me his best friend."

I smiled a little at that, especially as Obi-Wan moved into the ship after Hondo and Hondo immediately flung an arm around his shoulders and pulled him in. Based on the conversation I could hear as I brought in the ramp, Hondo was trying to convince Obi-Wan to sell him some of our Republic tech at a frankly ridiculous price. To no one's surprise (except maybe Hondo's), Obi didn't budge. He was remarkably gentle in his refusal, though.

After a brief challenge where Hondo insisted on piloting the ship and Obi-Wan had to convince him to sit in the passenger seat instead, we were on our way. With Hondo's help, we quickly found the pirate base we were looking for.

"Do you guys just constantly share locations with each other?" I asked as we came in for a landing not too far from the gates. Hondo shrugged.

"We do business with each other from time to time. Helps to know where your business partners are."

"Hm. Makes sense."

Hondo grinned at me. He clapped me on the shoulder and started walking down the ramp, and a moment later Obi-Wan took his place next to me.

"Don't turn your back on him," he warned. I turned, coming face to face with Obi-Wan. We'd known each other for most of our lives; I'd seen him a million times or more. But for this mission, we weren't in the typical Jedi robes, in an effort to go undercover. And seeing him standing next to me in a dashing pirate costume made my heart beat a little faster.

"Don't worry, I wasn't planning on it." Obi-Wan stared off after Hondo, his expression clouded, so I reached out and gently squeezed his shoulder. "We'll be fine, okay? We've survived everything we've gone through so far. What's a couple pirates?"

"The last time I interacted with pirates, Anakin and I ended up handcuffed to Count Dooku."

I laughed as we started strolling down the ramp together to catch up to Hondo.

"Well, if we find ourselves in a similar situation, I promise to make fun of Dooku even more than Anakin did with you."

"That, I would look forward to seeing." He sighed, nudging my shoulder with his just before we caught up to Hondo. "I suppose there's nothing left for us to do but dive straight in."

"Like you said. Sooner we start, sooner we get to go back to Cody and other, saner partners in crime."

"The fact that Anakin is significantly more rational and predictable than Hondo is... concerning."

I chuckled, and Obi-Wan and I shared a smile. Hondo clapped us both on the shoulders once we'd caught up with him at the door to the pirate's fort, and then we headed inside.

The next thing I remember, I was waking up on a concrete floor, my head pounding. I groaned, lifting one hand to my head, and to my surprise something dragged my other hand with it. I opened my eyes.

I was handcuffed. More than that, I was apparently handcuffed to someone else. I turned to my right to see Obi-Wan, already sitting up and looking at me.

"Good morning."

"What happened?"

"We were played." I sighed and flung my head back. All that talk about having each others' backs and not trusting Hondo, and it had been for nothing. "We were jumped as soon as we made it through the gates. Hondo turned us over and went to collect a bounty for us from the other pirates."

"Oh wonderful," I sighed, slumping back against Obi-Wan. My heart sped up a little bit at our close proximity, but unlike every other time we'd been close, this time I couldn't chicken out. It was lean against him, or very clearly, obviously, and uncomfortably lean away from him.

"I should've known we couldn't trust him," Obi-Wan said. "I just thought that this time we were prepared, so Hondo wouldn't be able to get one over on us. I should've known better."

"It's not your fault. Even I'd started to believe Hondo was honestly going to work with us for this mission. The fact that he'd already double-crossed us, before we even got on the ship..."

I trailed off, shaking my head. Obi-Wan sighed, and we spent a few moments leaning against the wall and each other, hands close together and heads resting against each other. I could've stayed like that for a long time, if we hadn't been sitting in a jail cell.

"So..." I finally started, still not moving an inch. "What did you do the last time you were in this situation?"

Obi-Wan sighed heavily. "Bickered with the Count, mostly. And made a few escape attempts. We would've been successful from the beginning had it not been for Dooku."

I huffed a small laugh. "Well, it's a good thing I'm here instead of him then, isn't it?"

"I truthfully can't think of anyone else I'd rather be stuck with."

We shared a smile, a warm feeling quickly dominating my chest. I couldn't quite stop myself from leaning forward ever so slightly, like Obi-Wan had his own gravity pulling me in. In this place, out of sight and temporarily forgotten by everyone else, being close to him didn't feel as scary as it did in the Temple or aboard the Negotiator.

To my immense surprise and delight, Obi-Wan leaned in too, a moment after me. He huffed a small laugh, his blue eyes sparkling.

"This is... probably a bad idea."

I didn't need to ask what he was talking about. I gave him a small smile and shrugged.

"No worse an idea than the one that got us in here in the first place."

"You certainly make a good point."

As one, we smiled and closed the remaining distance to each other, our lips meeting in a kiss I'd thought about a thousand times. It was even better than I'd imagined it would be, especially as I could feel Obi-Wan through the Force. My best friend, the man I'd loved a thousand different ways before I even really knew what the word meant, glowed with a happiness that matched mine.

No one had ever really found evidence that soulmates were real, despite all the mystical forces that did exist in the galaxy. But as I sat on the filthy floor of that cell and kissed my best friend, our energies twining together in the Force, I thought we'd come pretty close.

"Oh, this is very gross. And yet, it's exactly what I'd hoped to find."

Obi-Wan and I broke apart to find Hondo staring at us through the bars of the cell, a grin on his face. We fixed him with matching scowls.

"Come now, what are those looks for? You should be happy, look at the two of you!"

"Happy might be a stretch, since you double-crossed us," I said. Hondo's mouth dropped open and a hand flew to his chest.

"Double-crossed? No no no, I have done no such thing."

"Then why did we wake up handcuffed in a cell?" Obi-Wan demanded. "In my case, again."

"Ah, you see, it was all part of my brilliant plan!"

Obi-Wan and I shared a very, very skeptical look. Undeterred, Hondo pulled a ring of keys out of his pocket, still beaming at us.

"You thought the two of you, two Jedi, could actually sneak in here unnoticed? Ha! It never would have worked. So, I pretended to double-cross you, and while the two of you were in here admitting feelings for each other, I found your documents! After collecting the credits for turning you two over as prisoners, of course."

Obi-Wan and I stared, dumbfounded, as Hondo explained his plan and removed our handcuffs. We stood, helping each other up, both a little stunned that the Weequay had really outplayed everyone here.

"Come on, we must hurry," said Hondo, waving us after him as he headed for the cell door. "It won't take them long to figure out what we've done."

We spared one last shocked glance at each other, then hurried after Hondo through the winding halls of the pirates' lair.

"If you got your money and information, why did you come back for us?" asked Obi-Wan, suspicion dripping from his words. "Why not leave us to be cashed in for a bounty?"

I wanted to smack him for asking that question before we were safely back on our ship, but Hondo just turned to us, looking hurt and outraged that Obi-Wan would even suggest it.

"Kenobi, I am hurt! I would never do such a thing to such a good friend!" He turned, ignoring Obi's raised eyebrow as we at last made it out of the hideout. "Besides, there were no more credits to be gained by leaving you here. The only thing that would've happened was a profit for my competition."

I failed to fight off a smile. Now it all made sense.

Obi-Wan and I trailed just behind Hondo the last bit of distance to our ship, and cautiously, I slipped my hand into his. He gave it a gentle squeeze, turning to fix me with a small smile.

"You know this is going to complicate our lives beyond belief, don't you?"

"Yeah. But I think it's worth it. Our lives are already wildly complicated anyway."

Obi-Wan huffed a small laugh. "I agree."

"With which part?"

"All of it. But especially the part about this being worth it."

He gave my hand one last squeeze, and we shared another tender look before reaching the ramp of the ship and returning to business mode. I let Obi-Wan lead the way, and as I closed the ramp, I could already hear Hondo bargaining with Obi-Wan for credits in exchange for the information he'd retrieved while we'd been in the cell. Despite the exasperation on Obi-Wan's face and in his tone, I could still feel that glowing happiness radiating off of him in the Force, a mirror to my own. We were going to be just fine.

****************

Everything Taglist: @rosecentury

[jessequinnfirstofhername]

The Rules:

Every twenty-four hours there will be another round. After every round, the character in last place will be eliminated.

If there are multiple characters tying for last place, there will be a special elimination round. In these rounds, every character in last place will be eliminated, even if all the characters have tied equally.

When there are only two characters remaining, they will face off against one another in a week-long poll to determine the victor.

...and now for something completely different! Rather than voting for options that have already been chosen by me, you get to pick the options that will be included in this poll from Round Two onward. Please reply or reblog this post with the underrated character you'd like to include in this poll.

This is all for fun. Don’t take it too seriously ;)

Time to say goodbye to Yrica Quell!

No gifs are available for her, unfortunately, so enjoy this X-Wing gif!

Round Five!

[queenofspades6]

A Sergeant and his General. Hunter x Jedi reader. The Bad Batch

Summary: You, a Jedi who escaped Order 66, decide to surprise Hunter, but it doesn’t really go as planned. Omega, Tech, Wrecker and Echo decide to spy on you two. Tech teaches Omega what is sex.

Warnings: Fluff. Kissing. Mentions of sex. Spoilers from season 2 episode 4 and 5.

Author’s note: Hellooo! Today is my birthday, so I decided to finally share this x reader I was working on for weeks! I am so in love with Hunter, i couldn’t not write for him. I hope you enjoy! Don’t hesitate to like, reblog and tell me what you thought of it!

—————

You’re a Jedi, and the former General of Clone Force 99. Since Order 66, you’ve been hiding with the Bad Batch at Cid’s, completing missions together.

It was just after going on a treasure hunt with Omega and Phee that you noticed how exhausted Hunter was. Always glancing at you or Echo to help him decide. Hunter had told you about this peculiar mission with Echo where they needed to deliver 50 nerf nuggets as fast as possible. Truth was told, Cid never said who it was for. So, when Echo and Hunter arrived, they didn’t expect to see eye to eye with Hondo Ohnaka who had in fact, stolen the nerf nuggets from a Hutt. In order to get paid, Echo and Hunter needed to deliver the nuggets to Hondo, who had already sold the nerf nuggets to someone else. It was supposed to be a simple mission, but Hondo promised to offer them a huge reward if they delivered the 50 nerf nuggets to his client. Hunter and Echo had accepted and almost got killed by the Hutts to deliver the nerf nuggets. The Sergeant of Clone Force 99 had told you everything while rubbing his eyes. This man desperately needed rest.

After that, you noticed how Hunter sighed time to time, or how his eyes were closing when Tech was flying the ship. He always took care of the squad, but you knew it was weighing him. You could even sense in the Force how tired and scared he was. So, one day, you decided to plan something special for him.

“Hunter, I am taking you on a mission.” His eyes crinkled in wonder.

“Cid didn’t tell us we had a new mission.” He retorted, eyebrows furrowed, and a hand on his hip.

“It’s because she doesn’t want all the team involved. It’s just the two of us.”

His eyes widened, and he was looking for the truth in your eyes, knowing you weren’t telling him everything. He sighed and nodded, defeated. How was he supposed to say ‘no’?

“Alright. I’ll look for my equipment.”

Following him closely, you tried to hide the small smile on your lips. Hunter didn’t need a blaster or his vibroknife for this ”secret” mission, but it was so sweet of him to accept to go with you, even if he had enough of everything.

“Hunter! Hunter!” You heard Omega yell. “Where are you going?”

“I am going on a mission with Y/N” He replied, avoiding Omega’s gaze.

“Can I go with you? I made progress with my bow, you’ll see!”

Hunter looked at you, vulnerability glowing in his eyes, almost begging you to say something first.

“Cid asked us two to recover something for her. It’ll be quick, Omega, I promise we are coming back soon!” You told her and gave her a discreet wink, as if to tell her not to insist more.

“That’s not fun!”

“What is not fun?” Wrecker questioned, who had only heard snippets of information. “Hunter and Y/N are going on a secret mission without us! That’s not fair!”

You mentally swore, and almost regretted not telling Omega what you had planned. All this to keep it secret, and now, they all knew something was up.

”What?“ Wrecker yelled in disappointment. “No fight for us today?“

“Why can’t we go with you?” Tech asked suspiciously, looking up from his data pad. “You’ll probably need Wrecker’s force too, Echo’s skills, my knowledge, and Omega’s... tininess.

“Hey! I am not so tiny, Tech!” Omega responded.

“Where we are going, we don’t need you guys. Don’t worry, we’ll come back soon!” You exclaimed, taking Hunter by the hand without letting them talk further.

“What was that all about?“ Hunter questioned dubiously. You didn’t answer, and he groaned at your stubbornness.

“That’s not the way to the ship.” Hunter murmured, looking for your eyes.

“That’s not where we are going.”

Hunter’s eyes plunged into yours, almost asking what was going on. You couldn’t stare at him too long; he already knew something was off. In that whole universe, there was only one person that could read you like an open book, and that was certainly Hunter.

”Trust me.“ You whispered, caressing his hand, and taking it in yours.

Hunter was confused. A special mission with you, a Jedi, and him, a defective clone. What was going on? You didn’t need the Havoc Marauder, nor the whole squad. And now, you were holding his hand, guiding him towards? Towards where? Nowhere?

Holding his hand tightly, you traveled through the crowd of the village market not too far from the ship. You could sense how lost Hunter was feeling, but you didn’t want to break the surprise.

“We are almost here.” You let him know and squeezed his hand.

You looked at the horizon, noticing the cliff you had found a few days earlier with the sea below and its bed of waves. Furthermore, you spotted the blanket you brought, and all the fresh food bought this morning at the market to organize this picnic.

You walked, hand in hand with Hunter. When you arrived close enough to the cliff, Hunter noticed a blanket laid on the grass with fresh food and small things gathered on it. Was it a picnic? For him? He was surprised. He thought that maybe you wanted him to help you rescue another Jedi or anything else to fight the Empire. But he wasn’t planning this.

Seeing him wordless, you smiled slightly.

“This is the ”special” mission I told you about.”

He didn’t reply. You were beginning to doubt. What if he doesn’t want to rest, and especially with you? What if you’re being too straightforward about what you really feel? Attachments were forbidden in the Jedi Code, you were aware of that, but the Jedi Order didn’t exist anymore, and there were probably only a few Jedi who survived Order 66, so you chose only not to care for once. After all, we’re you still a Jedi if there wasn’t any Order anymore? The Jedi Order and all the Jedi wanted to protect the people of all the galaxy, but at what cost? Especially now that they couldn’t protect themselves. How were you and the Jedi supposed to protect others when you couldn’t even protect yourselves?

”It’s alright if you don’t like it. Just say so, and I’ll take everything off. I just wanted you to have a relaxing moment with no thinking, no decision making, no Empire, no Crosshair...“

After what felt like an eternity, Hunter looked at you. “That’s... That’s really kind. Thank you.”

He sat on the blanket and hold out his hand to you.

“You scared me, Y/N, you know?” You titled your head in wonder.

“I thought you wanted us to rescue a Jedi taken captive by the Empire, and that you didn’t want to involve the others.”

You nodded.

“I just wanted you to rest for once.”

He smiled, almost sadly at you, and you could see gratefulness in his eyes. Without a single word, he gestured you to sit next to him. You did, and your thighs brushed his, sending you shivers in all your body.

”I can’t do this anymore, Y/N. I am so tired.” He finally declared, avoiding your gaze.

”I know you are. I am here you know, and the squad is too. You can rely on them.“

”I know, but I am supposed to guide them, to make the right decisions, to protect them, that’s what a leader is for, right?”

“That’s what the Empire taught you, Hunter. You may be the leader of Clone Force 99; because at the time, the Republic chose you to lead the squad, but now, Hunter, the Republic is dead, you are all more than just clones. You are not replaceable. Clone Force 99 is your family now, they are all your brothers, Hunter, they’re here to carry you on when you are not at your best. Trust them.”

Hunter nodded and forced a smile. You offered him berries from the wicker basket you bought earlier. He took it in his hand, thankful, and tasted a few of them.

”I feel like one day I am going to get you all killed.” He confessed, almost ashamed, his eyes focusing on the berries still in his hand.

“We’re adults, Hunter, we follow you. We chose you. We all want what’s best for Omega.”

“I am terrified of losing her, Y/N.”

“Me too, Hunter.”

He looked for your hand, and locked his with yours, eyes lost in the color of yours, saying everything he couldn’t tell you with words.

”I am scared of losing you, Cyar’ika.“

You didn’t leave his gaze, a genuine smile growing on your lips.

”Me too, Hunter.”

—————

“What are they doing?” Wrecker asked, hiding behind a rock not big enough to hide him well.

“It seems they are eating... together.“ Tech replied, examining your form and Hunter’s. ”and... holding hands?“

“It’s a date!“ Omega screamed.

“Shhh. Shhhh Omega! They’re going to hear us.“ Echo murmured.

—————

“What was that?” Hunter questioned at the sound he heard.

”Probably a bird. A weird one.”

Hunter closed his eyes and allowed himself to rest with you. Even if he was confined he heard Omega’s voice.

“Do you see how beautiful it is?” You gestured at the waves crashing against the cliff. It had been years you had not seen the sea.

“It is.” Hunter replied, admiring you watching the sea with stars dancing in the endless green of your eyes.

You focused on Hunter again and caught him looking at you with esteem and respect.

“How do you do that, Y/N?” He questioned.

“Do what?”

“You always see the best in everyone, even Crosshair when everyone thought all hope was lost. You always bring joy to people you are with, even if we are on the run with a kid, you always know how to raise everyone’s spirits.”

You were going to retort that it was because you were a Jedi, and Jedi needed to protect others, and bring them hope, but Hunter cut you off, brushing your hand, almost accidentally.

“No, don’t say that. That’s not because you’re a Jedi. It’s your nature, Y/N, you’ve become indispensable to Clone Force 99.”

You repressed a grin, too shy to accept the praise, and when you looked up at Hunter, he said with passion reflecting in the color of his eyes:

“It’s impossible not to love you, Y/N.”

You couldn’t avoid his gaze, and he couldn’t either. You were entranced by each other, pulled by mysterious forces and strings in the universe. Maybe it was the Force itself that was at work here. Though, you were not done with being a Jedi. Not entirely. You were always reluctant to follow the Jedi Code strictly, you preferred to trust your guts and principles to lead your path. Maybe it was being around Anakin Skywalker and Ahsoka Tano that made you like that. Reckless when needed, but always fair. However, accepting you were not a Jedi anymore was more than meet the eye, it was letting go of every moment passed with each Jedi you admired, it was forgetting instants spent with senator Padmé Amidala trying to remake the senate with ‘what if’ and fantasies, it was accepting not to seek help and advice anymore from Obi Wan Kenobi and Master Yoda, it was almost like forgetting who you were before, and finding what and who you were without this title that was assigned to you some years after your birth. And of course, not being a Jedi anymore was acknowledging your feelings for a certain Sergeant of Clone Force 99. Even before Order 66, you were attracted by Hunter, but you knew that such attachments were forbidden by the Jedi Code. It wasn’t just physical, there was something more. And if the Jedi Order knew you had such feelings towards the Sergeant of your squad, only the Force knows what they would have done to you.

You remained silent, conflicted by your deep affection for Hunter, and who you were before Order 66.

Hunter smiled. He didn’t think you would reciprocate what he felt for you. After all, you were and will always be his General.

A shadow of disappointment and sadness passed through his face.

“Hunter.” You whispered.

He looked up. You approached a hand towards his tattooed cheek and caressed the rough skin within your delicate touch. He locked eyes with yours and allowed himself to relax. You were so tempted to lean in and put your lips to his, forgetting all about the old Jedi Code. But was this what he wanted?

And just for now, you didn’t care anymore. There was no rules, no interdiction, just you, a broken Jedi trying to escape Order 66, and Hunter, a defective clone and the leader of Clone Force 99.

You leaned in towards Hunter, and murmured:

“I want to kiss you.”

“Do it.” He answered softly but imperiously, almost sounding like an order from your Sergeant.

Of course, you complied, and your lips touched tenderly. Hunter stroked your hair, and put his hand under your shirt on one of your hips, caressing the sensitive skin, and sending shivers down your spine. It was a shy kiss at first, but then you both needed more. You put your hands in his hair, fondling the fabric of his bandana at the same time. You finally removed it from his hair, and he kissed you again roughly and desperately, hands on your back to keep you pressed against him. His hair was so soft. You heard Hunter chuckle when he realized you were playing with his hair. You kissed his lips again, desire and adrenaline rushing through you and Hunter. If it was supposed to be forbidden by the Jedi Code, why was it so good?

—————

“What are they doing now?” Wrecker asked, not daring to look at you and Hunter.

“Hmmm. It seems they are enjoying berries together, and... sharing a kiss!” Tech replied, removing his goggles to see if he wasn’t mistaken.

“You are not dreaming, Tech.” Echo said, taking a glance at you and Hunter’s form next to the cliff. ”We should have seen it coming, Y/N and Hunter were quite close.”

“I knew it!” Omega whispered, smirking. ”Do you see that? They are kissing!”

“It seems they are doing more than kissing now, Hunter is kissing her neck.”

“I see that! I think I’ll have nightmares about it for months!” Wrecker exclaimed.

Echo tapped Tech’s shoulder, forcing him to keep quiet.

“Tech, Omega’s here.” Echo stared at Tech.

“Sorry Omega.” Tech whispered.

Omega looked at Tech and Echo curiously.

“Tech, Echo, I am curious! Tell me, what are they doing? I can't see anymore.”

“Oh no, not that.” Echo sighed almost inaudibly.

Tech took that as a sign to explain it to her, even if he was quite embarrassed. “When two people love each other, they can have sex and...”

Omega made a face at the sound of the word, and the expressions of Echo, Wrecker and Tech.

”What? Is sex that bad?” She questioned; her head tilted in curiosity.

Tech shook his head in embarrassment and told her to go with him. Echo shrugged and patted his shoulder with a grin.

“Let’s go somewhere else. Hunter and Y/N may need some privacy.“ He said, glancing one last time at you and Hunter.

Tech, Wrecker and Omega all followed Echo to the ship.

—————

You finally broke the kiss, and watched Hunter catch his breath.

What happened? Did you just kiss? Did Hunter kissed your neck?

Hunter scratched the back of his head in discomfort. You stared at the ground quite uneasy. How was it so hard to just tell him you’ve had feelings for him for so long?

“Hunter.”

“Y/N.“

”Hunter, I- I...”

He saw an ounce of sadness passing through your eyes. “I know.”

He took your hand in his, caressing the palm with his calloused hand.

”I am sorry.”

You chuckled.

”For what? I was the one who wanted to kiss you for months. It’s me who should apologize.”

A small smile appeared on the corner of his lips.

”I’ve wanted it for long too.“ He confessed, squeezing your hand.

You’ve wanted to tell him for months, and now that you had the opportunity, no words came. But deep down in his eyes, you knew he understood.

“I care about you too, Y/N.”

”Oh Sergeant, are you falling for your General?” You questioned, smirking.

“If only I was just falling.“ He murmured to himself.

”I am falling for you, Hunter.” You admitted.

He nodded in acknowledgment.

“But... I was supposed to be a Jedi, and attachments are forbidden.“

“I shouldn’t either.” He confessed. “You are my superior, and I am a clone.”

” A Jedi and a clone. Quite ironic given Order 66.“

”Jedi or not. I would never hurt you, Y/N. Not intentionally.”

You kissed him again, without warnings, and with a certain sense of urgency.

“I don’t think we need words to express what we feel.” You murmured in his ear.

“For now.” Hunter replied.

”For now.“ You whispered like a pact sealing your fates together for how long the Force knows.

You put your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes. You looked for Hunter in the Force, and sensed a feeling of safety, rest and vulnerability. You felt a hand stroking your hair, and you smiled to yourself.

Hunter loved you too.

—————

When Hunter and Y/N came back, Omega ran to them against the protests of Echo.

“Y/N! Hunter!”

You hugged her, and Hunter smiled at your embrace with Omega.

“How was the sex?“ Omega questioned, impatient to know your answer.

“What?“ The Sergeant exclaimed.

His eyes widened, and his eyebrows furrowed. He gave a death glare to Wrecker, Tech, and finally Echo, asking with his eyes ‘what happened?’.

“We followed you to the cliff because we wanted to be part of this ‘secret’ mission, but you guys were kissing!” Omega confessed, giggling.

You had an embarrassed smile on your face, and Hunter was rubbing his bandana.

“Echo didn’t want me to see what you guys were doing, so Tech explained it to me.”

“Tech.” Hunter exclaimed dangerously.

“Yes, Sarge?”

Tech knew he was in trouble.

“It’s nothing, Hunter! Tech explained to me that when two people love each other, they have sex, and there is nothing to be ashamed of!” Omega acknowledged, smiling.

Hunter rubbed his head in discomfort and crouched down to her level.

“Omega.”

She looked at him, and then at you. You smiled at her.

“When two people love each other, they do not have sex automatically. It can happen, but it’s not systematic. Y/N and I didn't have sex.” Hunter told her.

He looked at Echo and Tech to agree with him, but they didn't seem to believe him. Hunter groaned, and you chuckled silently.

“Alright.” She sighed, still not convinced. ”But you and Y/N love each other!”

Quite defeated, she went to her bedroom on the ship.

Leaning against the metal of the ship with arms crossed, you didn’t say anything, but grinning.

Hunter watched Omega go, and then, he turned to Tech, Wrecker, and Echo. “For your information, Y/N and I didn’t have sex.”

—————

Did you enjoy this? Leave a like, reblog and comment!

—————

If you liked this x reader, you might be interested in this one too :

⬇️ ⬇️

[ct7567scyarika]

Dreams

Summary: In a rare moment, Captain Rex gets to enjoy some peace during the chaos of the war after a mission. Brief Rest, Relaxation, and Reflection with the woman he loves.

Pairing: Captain Rex x Mando OC, Pyrrha Eskel (established relationship)

Warnings: None

Ao3 link

Also not me copying @agirlunderarock format of posting stories on here. Anyway, this story was based on my commission from @agingerpanda! I still cannot get over how beautiful they look, and the background??? SO PRETTY?

Strokes of gentle maya and aureolin painted the partially clouded sky, silhouetting the distant mountaintop’s arching curve. A light fog blanketed the floor but could not shield the low gusts of wind that rippled through the tall grass like inbound waves. The ends of the dark green blades crashed against legs clad in dirty white armor. As Rex stood in the open field he closed his eyes and took a slow, deep inhale as the breeze blew on his face. The clean air was refreshing albeit a little chilling due to the morning mist.

A light clink sounded as something brushed his left arm. He partially opened an eye, his brown hue meeting the welcoming warmth of her bright blue gaze. His body relaxed and gravitated in her direction. The golden beskar that Pyrrha wore could not even compete with the gleaming smile she mirrored from him.

Stars, she was as beautiful as the early sunrise before them.

Rex lifted his hand from his hip to rest around the devoted bounty hunter’s waist, drawing her close to him, their armor clattered on impact. Her arms wrapped around his side with a squeeze then transitioned into a relaxed hold. He nuzzled against her temple before pressing a kiss there, his smile growing at her short hum. He felt her lean even closer to him. He missed being able to hold her without their armor getup on as they had done only half an hour ago. However, he was comfortable. His eyes slid shut.

“So ner golden alor’ad ,” she addressed in gentle Mando’a “can we just go back to sleep?”

“Mm, we’re already up and also stayed a night longer than we should have, ner cyar’ika ..” he spoke quietly against her temple, beginning to slowly sway with her.

“An action I advised as someone experienced in this type of mission; or, that’s what I wrote for the report.”

“Oh? How will you justify that?”

“Easy. We needed to lay low for at least the night so it would be less suspicious,” she turned her head to place the side of her face on his shoulder. “All while not wasting too much time.”

“Wouldn’t going back to bed be, as you will debrief, wasting more time?” he raised a brow in amusement.

“Well, I wasn’t going to clock the exact time we headed out. If push comes to shove, I could always say my ship ran into troubles on the way back.”

He stopped their swaying opened his eyes. “Lie on a report?”

“Wouldn’t be a lie if I said we ran into Hondo and I had him meet us on the way back.”

“You think that pirate would cover for you?”

“Hey, he knows I have the credits to bribe him… and the means to hurt him if I threaten him.”

Rex smirked and shook his head while she giggled. “Pyres,” he exhaled, “getting that pirate involved seems to be a lot of effort just to get a few more minutes more sleep.”

“See, I was aiming for a couple more hours. This mission was exhausting.”

“Yeah, it was, but I don’t think it will compare to the burnout that surely will follow from stringing Ohnaka along.”

Pyrrha laughed, a delightful sound he would always cherish during these dark days. “You’re not wrong, love. Although, I don’t believe it would be nearly as tiring as our last undercover mission with just the two of us.”

“Mm, the mission where you mostly had fun throwing me under the transport.”

“Well, that had been our first time working together alone, and you betrayed me, remember?” She released one arm from his side to place the back of her hand against her forehead, her body slouched against him. “My fiance hiding the truth that he was one of the Republic soldiers that had occupied my totally-not-made-up home planet!” 

He shifted his other arm to catch her from falling to the floor. “And you let that Seppie with his clankers take me!” Was his obviously feigned complaint. His heart nearly melted from the way she looked up at him, a goofy grin on her face.

“It was only, like,” her fingers wiggled before showcasing the proper number “four of them and I got you back once I was given the information we were looking for.” Rex sighed and chuckled, though hindsight made it easier to laugh about that case now. 

Pyrrha set her foot on the floor and Rex aided in easing her back onto her feet, his hands resting on her sides again. She turned her body to face him, hands laid on his armored chest. He reached and brushed the dark brown wavy locks from her face, her very fair complexion dusted a soft red. He kept his hand on her cheek, a little irked at how his glove hindered him from being able to feel her skin. She leaned forward and he copied, their foreheads pressing against each other. She gave an extra little push, a small declaration of her love. What began as a keldabe kiss during missions at the start of their relationship expanded into happening without their helmets. He pushed back in response with a short hum. With his body so comfortable against Pyrrha, the idea of returning to sleep with her in his arms grew more and more tempting. 

He opened his eyes partially, seeing she was doing the same. A quiet, short inhale through his nose as her smile softened and she had that starry-eyes look. He knew what she was thinking, what she wanted.

He wanted it too. 

He leaned forward, his heart raced and he felt rapid fluttering in his stomach. This wasn’t the first time they were doing this, yet he still felt just as giddy as he did then. The breeze that could reach him attempted to cool his heated cheeks. She followed his lead and closed the gap between them.

His eyes were closed as his mind was fixated on how softly this Mandalorian’s lips pressed against his, yet she was firm enough to assure him that she wasn’t parting any time soon. Her hands on his chest shifted slowly, one to wrap around his waist while the other slid up to cradle the back of his neck. The warmth in his chest spread while his hand on her cheek pulled her closer. In his life, he had been grateful to survive each battle, but he had never felt so alive as he did when he was with her. Alive and incredibly loved, the galaxy stood still for just the two of them. He wanted to share such feelings with Pyrrha and wanted her to feel just as loved. He wanted to convey all the feelings that he couldn’t quite put into words through the kisses they shared. Time didn’t exist in these moments, he had no idea how long this tender kiss lasted. Not long enough. He stole a quick kiss after they had begun to depart and he smiled widely when she giggled in response. They both glanced down bashfully.  

Stars above, he wanted to hold her even closer but the armor was in the way. He looked back at her while her head was still turned shily away, so he leaned to nuzzle her temple, then lowered to rest his head where her neck and shoulder met, nestling into her scarlet scarf. He could feel the tips of her fingers combing through the ends of his blond hair, the small ringlets were growing back in. He didn’t keep his hair as closely shaven as he used to because of this exact reason. 

His eyelids felt heavier as he opened them a little, an attempt to remain awake while not moving from the embrace. He looked at the scenery before him that was now basked in the morning’s glow. It wasn’t very often he got to come to a planet without it having some mark from the war on it. Right now, the only footprints of the war had been discreetly left by himself and Pyrrha, although his print had a stronger impression of the ongoing conflict due to his direct link to it. He and his brothers trailed a path of destruction. They were made to be weapons for this exact purpose. The natural beauty of a planet was often lost in the smoke and debris. Swift attacks that would take generations to heal… if ever.

He frowned and eyes shut once more, concentrating on her silent breaths. Every one she gave was a gift that he never wanted to take for granted. 

Which was why he was also back to focusing on his surroundings. One could never know when an enemy would attempt to ambush you in such a vulnerable position. He tightened his hold on her a bit.

Outside of their synchronized breathing, it was silent. Rex wasn’t used to the quiet after a mission, at least like this. Usually what followed were the sounds of troops moving and thunderous rumbles of heavy combat vehicles rolling through the remains, which then led to the hum of being on a Jedi cruiser and all the background noises that came with that environment. And still, after all that, they would return to the busy city of Coruscant. It was never serene. Eerie silence he was very familiar with, but… relaxed? 

Well, there was only one place he ever felt that, and, as much as he loved his brothers, it wasn’t the barracks. It was down, down in the dirty lower levels of the city in a small apartment. Pyres’ apartment; no. 

“Our home ,” she had said many months ago with a smile. “You live here too. It’s your home as much as it is mine. You’re my husband, we’re a family. ”

A family. 

He exhaled. For most of his life, he had never imagined having a family outside of the one with his brothers. He didn’t think he’d get this far, one could never be sure. There was also how Kaminoans made sure to sell him and his brothers more as property than people. Finding love and someone wanting to spend their life with you was not something he believed had been in the cards for him. He was going to be outlived either by the war or his age acceleration, so being romantically involved seemed to do more harm. But yet here was Pyres.

He froze for a moment as the silence was broken by the sweetest sounds he knew. Pyrrha sang in a hushed but clear tone, a song that was familiar to him. A tune she created and sang whenever she was stupendously happy. A song she wrote about him that she shared with him the night of their wedding, one that only they shared with each other. Their secret song.

He smiled. Yes, here was Pyres. His mesh’la, kotyc, nuh’la riduur . Beautiful, strong, funny wife. Here she was as always, dedicated and never hesitated to aid him when he needed her the most; nor was she hesitant to shower him with affection. If he called, she always dropped everything to get to him as quickly as possible. She always called him her brightest star in space’s endless dark, empty voids. Her lifesaver. Yet she gave him a future to look forward to, a new meaning to his life that was beyond fighting. They gave each other hope, to become more than what they had been shaped to be now. They had plans for after the war. A home on Alderaan where they could be far away from painful memories. To lay down their weapons, live in peace, and hopefully grow their little family. His heart raced again at the idea, a future he held tightly to. He knew following this war when they won would be a matter of clones finding a place in the galaxy. He knew his place and would fight for it.

As for now, he could wait. There was plenty of time they’d spend in battle. For now, he wanted to enjoy the minutes they had left alone. He lifted his head, their gaze reuniting as she continued into the end of their song. Although he wanted to hum with her, he did not want to interrupt. Her voice was soft and soothing, lulling him to quietly rest with her. He watched her with a smile and she tilted her head. Her hand moved from the back of his neck and skin brushed over the side of his face, his body reacting with a shiver. His blinks slowed as he nuzzled her hand and cradled her wrist. He planted a soft kiss in her palm, then to the inside of her wrist, smiling as she giggled. She leaned forward and kissed his cheek, his hold tightened slightly when she whispered: 

“Sing with me, please?” Had those Force meditation sessions with Kenobi made her able to sense his hesitation? Well, persuasion was not a Force skill she needed to learn, for as soon as she asked, he nodded and joined her in the song. He shifted his hand from her wrist to hold her hand, brought her closer to him, and began to sway with her in a slow dance. The wet blades of grass rustled against their movements, the light of the sun highlighted their figures and gave their armor an extra gleam. Although the light fog had lifted, the wind continued and strands of Pyres’ hair blew against her face, laughter occasionally breaking her part of the duet.

Rex sank in every moment, noticing every detail so he could revisit this memory in the days to come. He knew Pyres would take a holoimage of them shortly, however, he wanted more than visuals. He wanted to easily recall all the sensations he felt, such as how the weather was a perfect blend of cool and warm, the smell of the wildflowers, the sounds of the duo’s voices softly fading to an end. What he wanted to remember the most was how he felt when he ran his fingers through her hair to cup her face and they leaned in for another kiss, giving into the hunger for more. His eyes opened for a moment as he moved away for a split second, allowing just enough time to partially open his mouth before diving back in for another, deeper kiss. Her lips moved against his as both inhaled through their noses in an attempt to prolong the intoxicating exchange.

If there was anything certain in this galaxy, it was that Rex loved her. He loved her so, so much and he knew she returned the feelings. Each and every single rotation in all the galaxies she would choose him, and he would always choose her. She gave him her love, she gave him the galaxy, and all he could offer was his heart. 

“ It’s enough ,” she had replied when he told her this months ago. With dreamy, glazed eyes and a warm smile, she had continued. “ More than that, more than any treasure in existence. I am lucky to have you; you are more than enough. ”

“ You are as well ,” he had answered and noticed how her hold on him tightened. “ You are the best thing that has ever happened to me. ”

“ The best for each other? ” “ Forever. In the best of ways. ”

[hetalianskywalker]

Day 11: To Swim With A Siren

Pairing: Siren Waxer x Pirate Reader

Summary: Your siren boyfriend asks you to come for a swim.

Author’s Note: Commander Cody is definitely grumbling about having a credit for each time one of his men fell in love with a pirate. And while he would only have two credits, it’s weird it happened twice. 😂

Warnings: Sirens drowning people like in old folklore is mentioned. I think that is it.

Word Count: 869

Prompt: “It’s sweltering today,” the mermaid/man said, fins creating a little wake in the water as they swished back and forth along the side of the ship. “The sun must really beat down up there. Especially when you’re at the helm steering all day.”

The pirate propped one boot heavily atop the bulkhead, leaning one elbow on their knee to peer over the edge and into the siren’s sea foam eyes. “You know if you want me to go swimming with you, you really need to confirm whether or not you plan to drown me.”

Short Prompt # 19 by thepenultimateword

You know today is going to be a good day when you hear soft singing in the morning. It stops as you get out of bed. Quickly, you turn to look out your port hole to catch the last wisp of an orange and white fin.

You race for the deck and lean over the railing, but you're surprised to see he’s not there. You frown down at the water. You couldn’t have imagined that right?

“Waxer?” You call out at the open sea. Oh your crew is definitely going to tease you later. You are so head over heels you were losing your damn mind. You groan, pinching the bridge of your nose.

“Everything alright love?” You blink before being met with the bright smile of your siren. The sharp teeth and claws don’t phase you as you arch a playful eyebrow down at him.

“Fine, now. Where were you?”

“Making sure your crew don’t bother us for a little while.” Waxer smiles sheepishly up at you. You had been so excited to see him that you now notice how eerily quiet it was for this late in the morning.

“Waxer…” You say, with a mix of a groan and a laugh.

“Most of your men wanted to sleep anyway so it was just a gentle nudge. I think you’ve been overworking them on the last few heists.” You immediately roll your eyes; more like your men had a bit too much to drink last night.

“Speaking of overworking, how is General Kenobi?” You had met the sarcastic Jedi General after getting screwed over in a deal with Hondo Ohnaka; specifically, the other pirate captain had left you to deal with Republic fallout. Thankfully, Grievous had decided to try and attack Kenobi again. After fighting your way out, you kept running into the 212th on the high seas. The Jedi always looked more tired every time you saw him, but he oddly seemed fairly happy to see whenever you crossed paths. You burst out laughing when Waxer told you it was partly because he was thankful to get a break from Hondo.

“He’s…” Waxer frowns for a second. “He’s doing okay. The war is taking its toll on everyone.” You are both silent for a long moment then it finally dawns on you: why the kriff was he alone out here?

“So where is he and the 212th?” You tease, trying to lighten the mood. “Boil is going to rant at both of us if you snuck off.” He laughs softly and points to a speck in the distance.

“I got permission. Don’t worry.” He grins up at you. “But Boil is probably going to rant at us either way.”

“He really doesn’t like me huh?” The other Mer clone couldn’t seem to stand you, but you knew he was just being protective of his brother.

“Not at all.” Waxer laughs; his tail happily flicking around in the water. You close your eyes a second and savor that sound. Sadly, all good things must come to an end.

“As much as I want to flirt with you the whole day, you mind waking up my crew?”

“As you wish.” You watch him vanish under the water before as soft song hits the air.

Your crew knew immediately who was lurking in the water when they saw how good of a mood you were in. You would pay for it tonight though when they all called you lovesick.

For a few hours, Waxer remains out of sight with only the occasional melody to remind you he’s still around. You stand at the helm steering the ship in the hot sun and the heat just continues to climb as time passes. Eventually, you pass the job off to your first mate for a breather.

“It’s sweltering today,” Waxer said, orange and white fins creating a little wake in the water as they swish back and forth along the side of the ship. “The sun must really beat down up there. Especially when you’re at the helm steering all day.”

You prop one boot heavily atop the bulkhead, leaning one elbow on your knee to peer over the edge and into the siren’s brown eyes.

“You know if you want me to go swimming with you, you really need to confirm whether or not you plan to drown me.” You tease, knowing full well Waxer is one of the kindest souls you know. You trust he would never do that to you.

“Now why would I drown my future riduur?” The truthfulness makes your face immediately heat up.

“You win.” You set your hat, jacket, and boots to the side before diving into the water. Waxer immediately wraps you in a hug with his tail twisting around you when you breach the surface. You joyfully laugh, resting your arms around his neck.

“I missed you, Waxer.” You lean your forehead against his.

“I missed you, too.” He then grins playfully up at you. “Let’s have some fun before my ride gets here hm?” He pulls you in for a soft kiss, blocking out the world. As the Negotiator got closer, you and Waxer were going to make your time together count.

[galacticwildfire]

Fire Meet Gasoline | Poe Dameron

One

Poe Dameron x Solo Original Character

Hope Solo’s haunted by the night the temple burned. Having gone rogue she hunts the First Order in search of answers until a fateful encounter with Poe Dameron brings her back to the Resistance and Leia puts her daughter under his command to find Luke Skywalker.

Word count: 8.3k

Tags/warnings: hondo ohnaka reminiscing the clone wars, boba fett, r2 being sick of skywalker bs, mentions of war crimes/torture, ptsd, descriptions of injury, typical skywalker bs over ranks, absent father/angry daughter, meet cute, flirting, ego's, simp poe, exhausted leia

A/N: hey guys first chapter is finally up after I swore to rewrite this in march and the prequel will be up in it's entirety very soon as well. First half of the chapter spends some time setting up the story before Poe comes in. I promise Han and Luke aren't as bad they are through her eyes, Leia pov next chapter will give context. Also all my stories are written for adults with adult themes, I use appropriate tags but read at your discretion.

Prologue

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32 ABY | Two Years Before A Force Awakens

Hope

It was meant to be a simple run, picking up the package from the contact and ensuring its safe passage. Whenever Hondo Ohnaka tells me it's an easy job that I'd handle with no problem I know to expect some sort of trouble in the form of a skirmish or firefight, but I didn't expect that skirmish to be with tie-fighters.

I'm used to taking them out, but I prefer being the one ambushing them instead of the other way around.

"Solo, you're alive!" Hondo laughs anxiously at the look on my face as I walk into his outpost on Batuu and slam the box down on the table. "Careful now, that's fragile!"

"What the hell did you send me to get that the First Order would want?" I ask him and he curses as he downs the rest of his drink. "Hondo, I swear-"

"Those bastards have finally done it!" he declares to no one in particular. "I knew it was only a matter of time before they targeted my business, just like the Empire did. One empire falls and another-"

I don't wait for him to finish his dramatics before I pull open the box but freeze when I see what's inside. "We already raided Grakkus the Hutt's vault, where did you find this?"

"Maz Kanata," he answers and raises his hands in his defence at how I gape at him. "Like myself she feels a certain sense of nostalgia when it comes to Jedi relics and well, it just so happens I had one of my men infiltrate her castle to steal one."

"Maz Kanata is a friend," I remind him but he doesn't seem awfully phased.

"Which is why I did not tell you what you were getting or who it was stolen from," he tries to reason as I hold the kyber crystal in my hand, a real kyber crystal. It's cracked and faded from the years, no use to me but it would still be priceless. "Well, it's not as impressive as I was hoping for, but I don't suppose you can use your Jedi magic to make it look pretty again for me?"

"No," I answer curtly, there still being one question I need the answer to. "How did the First Order just happen to know I'd be transporting a kyber crystal when I didn't even know what I was carrying?"

"They didn't," he answers and now I'm the one cursing as I realise what's happened, that they weren't targeting the shipment, but me. "It is not profitable for the First Order's tie-fighters to be repeatedly destroyed by one rogue Jedi in a starfighter, embarrassing for their reputation, so I'll let you put that one together."

"Shit," I whisper, knowing if the First Order's profiled me then the Resistance is only going to be one step behind them in figuring out who's been tormenting First Order patrols in the Outer Rims. 

Which means Mom will know exactly what I've been doing out here.

"I still do not understand, you want to kill the bastards but left the only organisation willing to do it," Hondo says, a pirate but still a jedi and rebel sympathiser at heart, and like all supposedly legitimate former criminals running illegal operations, he's worried they're going to put his business at risk. 

"Because if I shoot first I break the Galactic Concordance and every other damn treaty they've signed which puts the Resistance in trouble with the senate and risks declaring open war," I answer, frustration still thick in my voice after all this time. "Which I did and got permanently grounded to avoid starting said war, but thankfully it made me realise it's no fun fighting a cold war when I can be out here taking the fight straight to them without consequences, and the last thing I need is to be held back."

But I didn't just fire first, I wiped out one of their elite ground squadrons to try to find out where Ben is on what was meant to be reconaissance, to ask their captain where Snoke has my brother stationed. Except I didn't just ask and he had a nice little electric shocker in his pocket to stop me from finishing my interrogation. When Mom heard about the mess I'd left I wasn't just demoted from captain, but forbidden from partaking in any off base missions at the insistence of every single member of high command pending complete expulsion. 

And so I left. Almost a year later I still haven't showed my face.

"Haha, you do come from that Skywalker boy, he liked committing war crimes too," Hondo laughs and my eyes roll back in my head, preparing to hear for the tenth time how he once fought the man who became Darth Vader and lived to tell the tale since the galaxy now knows that unfortunate truth. "Good with a lightsaber, although I cannot forgive him for killing my good friend Kenobi and you know, all the rest. But once I acquire the right weapon we must duel for old times sake."

I never thought a pirate could so intimately know two utterly separate generations of my family through swindling them but there always seems to be surprises. "So you can get your ass handed to you again?"

"He liked to insult me as well, although not as well as Kenobi," he remembers fondly and I'd be lying if I said I hadn't found his stories of working with and against Anakin and Obi-Wan interesting, to hear what my grandfather was like from one of the few people still alive who knew him during the Clone Wars. "So did your father, I'll never forget when I tried to steal the Falcon from him, I'm still mad someone else beat me to it."

My spirits sour at the mention of him and I pour myself a drink from the bottle on the table only to grow more bitter at the taste of the Corellian whiskey, then quickly put it down remembering another story Hondo once told me. "Well I fully intend to steal it back and if my father wants it he can come and find me."

Somehow that wound is more raw than anything that happened the night the temple burned despite the permanent scars it left me with. A father packing up and leaving because he couldn't look at my mother without seeing Ben, and he couldn't look at me for reasons I still don't understand. I'm sure he only stayed as long as he did because Chewie refused to leave me behind, until eventually Dad didn't care anymore and left both of us. 

"A lasar sword wielding maniac with the knack for piracy is a formidable opponent," he acknowledges and informs me. "From what I hear he is keeping low, owes money to the worst of the worst, people not even I, Hondo Ohnaka, would double cross and that is saying something. But I have no doubt he would be very proud his daughter is giving him a run for his credits and has certainly made a profitable investment."

The thought he'd be proud of what I'm doing is the opposite of what I want, but the rest is hardly news. "What can I say? I'm the best pilot there is."

I'm not quite sure how I ended up as an investment for some of the most established underworld figures there are. It began with me looking in all the wrong places for Dad and instead finding old friends and foes of his who were quite curious to see what I could do for them. Being nineteen with no credits, my weapons, and a ship in desperate need of maintenance, I was happy enough to oblige them. 

Perhaps I hoped working for the very people who'd betrayed Dad time and time again would be enough he'd track me down out of anger to smack some sense into me like he should have done to Ben, but no. He's a ghost like the rest of the men in my family. 

Still, in this unexpected change of career path I've learned a thing or two about profit and have turned my transport, my dear Shiraya, into an armoured starship that could almost be called luxurious, along with my more recently acquired and heavily modified Naboo Starfighter that I make use of for the contracts Boba Fett provides me to hunt down the First Order patrols trying to interfere in his operations.

"Speaking of which," Hondo continues to try to distract from the payment he owes for the delivery. "Boba has a contract for you."

Now those are always good words. 

"But first," I say and look at the kyber crystal knowing it could go for half a million credits even in this state since genuine kyber is so rare, especially since this one appears to have been used in a saber at some point, no doubt dismantled for parts long ago. "I want half of the profits."

"Oh no, you merely transported the goods," he says and negotiates. "Ten percent."

I hold his eye carefully. "Thirty."

"Fifteen and don't you try those Jedi mind tricks on me," he says and I just smile to myself. "Fifteen percent which you will receive once I find a buyer."

"Twenty five and I'll be coming for my credits," I promise him as go to head out the door to where R2 awaits. My faithful companion since I was twelve years old, my best friend, my only friend, although always eager to get off this planet since he has a longstanding grudge against Hondo for numerous Clone Wars era offences. 

But he won't exactly like where we're going next either.

"Come on R2, to Tatooine it is."

~

The evidence of the recent Boonta Eve celebrations are still evident from the bottles on the streets and firework shells scattered across the sand. People are still settling their debts from the races as a New Republic news channel plays from one of the holoprojectors in the square and I hear the Resistance mentioned fleetingly in arguments over funding for the ever decreasing Republic navy. A reminder that I've never been gone from base this long. 

For Mom's sake I held it together and threw myself into forming the Resistance with her after the temple burned, but when Dad disappeared without a word that was when I began to finally lose it. Mom and I had our fights to the point we became notorious for them. I'd run off for a week or two and stay with Lando, but eventually I'd always go home. 

Until now.

But after what I did she was horrified. One mention of my brother's name from the First Order captain, or rather his new name, and I snapped and learned just what a lightsaber is capable of doing to a lifeform. Even if he was the one who took his own life they still blamed me for his death since they knew the First Order certainly would and feared retaliation. I'd previously engaged the enemy and disobeyed orders countless times, I was known for insubordination and worked alone in the field since we didn't even have enough pilots for an active squadron, so when they told me I couldn't step foot in my x-wing after what I'd done I was shocked. I shouldn't have been, I'd pushed command to the brink too many times to count, but the torture of an unarmed evil man had them debating if I should be removed from the Resistance entirely. 

And so I made the decision before they could and took off. 

But not alone, never alone as long as I have R2 with me, even if he has been difficult this past year. R2 complains the whole way to the palace, while he's loyal to a fault he has made it clear he does not agree with my choice of lifestyle. Even if I'm walking around with more credits than Dad ever did while he's in debt to the worst of the worst. 

I hope that wherever he is he knows it too, that he abandoned his daughter to go back to the only thing he was ever good at, only for me to put him to shame.

I'm a recognisable enough figure by now as I walk through Mos Espa, the place Anakin Skywalker was found by the Jedi Order, a place I've now come to frequent having long ago deterred anyone trying to collect Dad's debts from me from trying that again, and being under the Daimyo's protection gives me privileges.

Perhaps Boba Fett thought it would be ironic to have Vader's grandaughter being the one serving him, or maybe he found humour in Han Solo's daughter being on his payroll, either way it's been profitable for both of us. He's getting old to say the least and muscle is a needed supply in these parts. Jedi have been myth for decades and the sight of Vader's own blood with a lightsaber is enough to deter most trouble, the rest I deal with.

"Solo," Boba says as I enter the palace that once belonged to Jabba the Hutt, my visions have showed me well enough what transpired here when Mom was his slave along with other unfortunate visions of my family's history here on Tatooine. Psychometry, to this day I still can't decide if it's a gift or a curse. "I have a contract."

"Hondo told me," I say and eagerly ask "First Order?"

"They've been patrolling well beyond the border regions and now they've turned their attention to my sector," he informs me. "I had one of my men string up a First Order spy we found in the city but we know there's more and I have it on good authority there's a squadron or perhaps more of tie fighters patrolling the system."

"I'll take them out," I say immediately and he gives an approving nod but stops me before I can leave. 

"You know Solo, it's past time you accepted the offer of membership to the guild," he says, and while the offer certainly flatters me I know the consequences of formally making myself a scoundrel for hire. "You can start making real coin then."

Except it's far more complicated than that when I still have legal duties. Mom did not pass down her responsibilities as Princess of Alderaan to me on a whim, she did it out of necessity. When the truth about her real father was exposed she was ruined, the senate and her allies had turned on her, so with full faith she stood there and transferred whatever powers that title still gave her to me. They could force her resignation and silence her voice, but not mine. 

"A princess joining a bounty hunting guild isn't good press for the Resistance," I say, knowing the moment my name is processed in the guild's database that information would be sent straight to the New Republic which would very much complicate any business I might have to conduct in the senate. Even if I've left the Resistance I cannot betray Mom's trust in me when it comes to those responsibilities. "Besides, its loyalties are too loose for my liking. The same as most of the people out here who keep trying to exploit me into paying off Han Solo's debts to them."

It's a miracle Boba Fett doesn't do business with the Empire's successor considering his loyalties were always famously for hire, but from the stories I've heard and those he's told me he has personal reasons to detest the Imperial remnants that the First Order came from, having made himself an enemy of them long ago. It's only because of the stories he's told I know there is one other survivor like me out there, although from a different destruction of a different temple many years before my own. 

Mom would be disappointed in my current career to say the least, but I only ever take work from those who were friends of the Jedi or the Rebellion, even if they didn't necessarily begin that way. Boba is as far as that line blurs, but considering he turned on those remnants to help save a Jedi youngling that's good enough for me.

"I would advise you to remember princess that it's the people out here who were the lifeblood that kept the Rebellion running, especially in its early days," he lectures. "They were the ones who smuggled weapons and all the rest to their bases without the Empire intercepting it, without them the rebellion would have been over as soon as it began. Even the Jedi in the Clone Wars did business with our kind, your grandfather included as Hondo's no doubt told you. Like him I'd met your grandfather long before he became Vader when I was just a child, he was much like you are now and just as self righteous. The biggest difference between Anakin Skywalker and Vader was that at least Vader kept his mouth shut when he didn't need to open it, a lesson you could learn."

"I was trained to be a politician before I was ever trained to be a Jedi so that's not gonna work," I retort and he shakes his head. "And there's a very big difference between smuggling weapons for a rebellion and smuggling people for traffickers."

He doesn't like that response but somewhere a line has to be drawn. "Your mother might be high and mighty about working with us low lives despite marrying one, but I would have thought you'd be smarter than that."

"I'm smart enough to know the moment the senate learns we do any business with smugglers and crime lords they cut all funding and support," I challenge, still politically adept from my upbringing and time served in the senate. "We can't afford to make more enemies than we already have."

"We?" he repeats and I lower my eyes. "I thought you said you weren't part of the Resistance, that you were too efficient for their liking, which you are. You've got a ruthless streak that would make you a damn good bounty hunter, or a mercenary for hire if that's more your style, but you're too afraid of what your mother would think to fulfil that potential, or maybe you just don't have the backbone I thought you did."

His words are true which is why they sting, except for the part about having a backbone. My first instinct is to lash out in defence but I bite my tongue, remembering who it is I'm standing in front of. I'm certainly not afraid of him but he's one of the few people in the Outer Rim's I'm willing to work for considering he's the only one willing to pay me to go after the First Order. And maybe I've found a certain wisdom in Boba Fett considering the enemy I face. The rest of the Resistance worries about stormtroopers and tie-fighters, but I know there's a different enemy only I can face and what better way to learn to kill the Knights of Ren and Snoke than from a man who is more than experienced in hunting and killing those trained in the force.

Mom would be horrified, but I know they're out there and I know I'm the only one who can destroy them since Luke's run away, which means I need preparation that she can't give me while she chases a ghost.

"You forget my focus isn't on credits, but on killing as many of those bastards as I can until I get close enough to their leader to strike him down," I say and nod my head in respect to the Daimyo. "And that's what I'm going to do."

But before I can leave he warns me "I bet Vader thought he'd do the same, but he didn't have a backbone either."

Something in me goes cold, but if there's anyone who has the grounds to challenge me on Vader it's his right hand man. "In the end he did. He killed Palpatine."

"When they were all but defeated above Endor," he says and I try to keep my face neutral, having never thought the day would come when I'd ever defend anything Vader did but things change. "Anakin Skywalker was known as the hero without fear and yet he became a slave, from what I hear for the second time in his life. Even if he did kill him in the end he was still a slave to his master. I wonder if Kylo Ren thinks he's going to do the same," he challenges and my face falls, my throat tightening at the very mention of his name. "So it is true then."

My hand tremors slightly and I'm at a loss for how he could have that information, managing only one word. "How?"

"Vader's grandson conveniently dies just like Skywalker did during Order 66 and now a new Vader pops up as the First Order's enforcer," he says and tilts his helmeted head. "Educated guess. You know what they say, history repeats."

My body may be cold but I can feel something burning in me at those words, remembering it all, everything up until the moment lightning hit the temple. Seeing his eyes turn yellow as he raged with his saber drawn, screaming that Luke was dead and that he'd betrayed us. 

Luke was his master and mine before Ben had taken me as his apprentice despite Luke's disapproval. I'd asked Ben to not hold me back and he did just that, something Luke never did. He was my brother, my teacher, and I tried to walk away from him and my training to form the Resistance. That was my final mistake that sealed what would happen that night.

And so my voice shakes as I insist. "He's no Vader."

"Someone should tell him that then," he remarks and leans back on his throne. "Because from what I hear he's earned himself quite the reputation, black mask and all."

I feel sick and without another word leave the palace with a purpose, knowing every tie fighter I take down is one less between me and killing their Supreme Leader. I thought I could never feel more horrified than the night the temple burned, concussed and choking on ash with lightsaber burns to my arm and thigh, only one of which I actually recall receiving, but when we discovered that Snoke, the creature that had seduced Ben to the darkness, was the mysterious leader of the First Order I watched Mom fall to her knees. 

Whatever Mom believes happened that night, whether I'm lying about not remembering or have suppressed it, I truly don't remember what happened after lightning struck the temple, there's only flashes of screams and pain. Once we felt Ben turn we let everyone believe he died in the fire, no one would dare ask a grieving mother to account for a missing son.

From the start I knew I was searching in vain, for an uncle, a father, a brother. All ghosts. Luke can stay hiding in exile for all I care, but for so long I thought I could bring Ben back so Mom wouldn't have to suffer the loss of a son as well as a husband and a brother. So I wouldn't have to suffer the loss of a brother as well as a father. My idiot brother who became so delusional when he discovered who the man he worshipped, Anakin Skywalker, truly was. As at odds as we were, he was the he only other person in the galaxy who knew was it was like to be the heir of Skywalker, of Vader. To be vilified for sharing blood with a man we never knew, for being able to wield a power so many distrust. Now I'm alone in that. 

For so long I tried so hard to do what she asked of me, but whenever I would step foot on Hosnian Prime to petition the senate for funding I would hear the whispers, the speculation. When a temple full of children burns to the ground and Luke Skywalker disappears people want answers, answers I couldn't give. Answers I can't give. 

But when I'm the only survivor people look to put the blame somewhere.

It's only fitting in their eyes that it's on the blood of the Jedi Killer himself.

R2 beeps at me as we scout the system, I thought by now he'd give up trying to get me to go home but he hasn't. I thought when I left Mom I'd no longer have to look at someone who's afraid I'll turn into Vader, or my brother, but R2 has seen too much to not be afraid I'll fall as well. Except much to my sorrow I can hardly fault him for it knowing what he's seen.

"How about after this we go to Naboo for a little while?" I propose to him, it's only a stone's throw from Tatooine and where I've resided in my free time. With the Lakehouse all but forgotten during the Empire's reign I've found refuge there, having put most of my spare credits into restoring it since it fell into ruin. The Naberrie family had said it was meant to be where Padmé raised her children, and that all that was left to her she would want to be passed onto me and I do what I can to preserve her memory. For a long time Naboo was my home almost as much as it was her's, and R2 likes that idea, Naboo having been his home once as well.

The N-1's controls are engrained into my memory from my training and education there, having been the youngest starpilot to ever fly as part of their starfighter corps at the mere age of twelve. I'd grown up in N-1's as much as the Falcon, although I had become quite fond of my x-wing that no doubt still resides on D'Qar, that better still be there and waiting for me, even if it never saw as much action as I wish it had.

I like to think Dad would be proud of me if I could tell him that by the age of twenty I'd become a quadruple ace, even if those kills were achieved with contracts like these instead of with the Resistance. Perhaps he'd be horrified instead despite being the first one to put me behind laser cannons in the field. Any reaction would be acceptable if it meant I could just see him, but now I'm seeing another target.

"Here we go R2, you see them?" I say, eyeing a group of tie's coming out from behind one of the moons. "This is where the fun begins."

Even if he pretends to be worried for the sake of my self preservation, an override of his loyalty programming installed by Luke to keep me from getting myself killed, I know he loves this almost as much as I do. When a droid's been in action for nearly seventy years he tends to become more independent than his programming and I know he's missed being shot at even if he'd disagree. 

"It's just target practice R2," I tell him as I prepare to ambush, taking a moment to see if the First Order's bothered to make any modifications to their tie's with the amount I've been taking out, having collected data from the wreckages, but it seems they're happy to keep sending them out as cannon fodder. "Let's see, take them out in the open or herd them into that asteroid belt?"

He agrees with the asteroid belt, and so do I. Tie's aren't as nimble as a Naboo starfighter.

"I count eight, should be easy pickings," I say and prepare to attack. "Let's get em."

I debate strategy as I come up behind them to ambush, my instincts tell me now might not be the time to play around and I have the nagging feeling there's more where these eight have come from and so instead of taking my time I fire the proton torpedo I've been itching to use right into the centre of their formation. The shot takes out the tie's in the centre with the exception of the flanking ships that scatter at the blast and sure enough another formation comes up behind me from one of the moons.

This just got slightly more dangerous now that they're the ones trying to push me into the asteroid belt, but only slightly. "Easy R2, follow my lead and prepare for a L'ulo stand."

After taking out the flanking ships I cut the engine's thrusters and pull up hard a fraction of a second later in the same manoeuvre that L'ulo taught me when he joined the Resistance, a manoeuvre he taught me could only be done in atmosphere, space is a little trickier to pull it off in but manageable with counter thrusters. The nose of my ship slams upwards to slow the acceleration of my fighter so the tie's behind me overshoot, counting ten in total that head straight past me for the asteroid belt, finding myself surprised by the amount they have to spare, but at least the amount I'll get paid will more than cover the cost to replace the torpedo.

Now to scatter them and pick them off.

"Alright R2, fire up those thrusters for me," I say and a second later they come back roaring as I roll the N-1 before slamming the nose down again and shoot forward to herd the second formation into the asteroid belt, grinning as I follow after the scattering ties, manoeuvering the belt with ease and by the time I exit the tie's are either destroyed by my laser canons or their own shitty piloting. The First Order clearly have pilots to spare but not instructors. 

But in the heat of the moment I failed to notice the x-wing that had followed me through the belt and my heart stops at the realisation I didn't see it, a mistake that could have me dead if it was a First Order ship.

"The hell?" I whisper at the sight once I recover from the momentary shock. "The Republic shouldn't be out here..." It's then I take in the model of the x-wing and realise it's a T-70. It's a Resistance X-Wing. "Fuck." R2 beeps at me and I remind him "Who taught me to curse R2? I'd settle somewhere between you and Mom and if she's sent a fighter after me... no- no, she has no idea where I am."

At least I hope not.

A transmission comes through the radio as R2 begins to lecture me, a man's voice interrupting him. "Naboo starfighter identify yourself."

R2 feels the need to point out it's the Resistance, not so kindly suggesting we should follow them home. I never knew a droids patience could wear thin but R2 may just be getting too old to deal with Skywalker bullshit. 

"Yes R2 I'm aware it's a Resistance x-wing," I say before answering the transmission and replying to the pilot. "No, I don't think I will."

He doesn't seem to like that answer, but plays along. "Before you get cocky are you aware you were just ambushed by a squadron of tie-fighters belonging to the First Order and that I came to assist?"

He hasn't identified himself which means he's impersonating a New Republic officer by ordering me to identify myself, most pilots wouldn't pick up on the difference between x-wing models, but I know better. 

"I was the one ambushing them," I grin, a little smug I'd taken them out before he could even get a shot, finding his voice unfamiliar which means he's a new pilot who wouldn't know mine. "I'd thank you for your assistance but you were a little late."

His ship pulls up beside mine, close enough to see clearly into the cockpit, and I make out a grin beneath his helmet as he says "It's a shame, I thought this patrol was about to get interesting."

"I didn't think New Republic pilots were allowed to engage," I say since he's failed to identify himself and I want to see how long he keeps this ruse up, but I can't help but like what I see and tease. "Am I under arrest officer?"

I hear him laugh and study his face as best I can, finding it attractive and unfamiliar even with it being obstructed by his flight helmet, but my stomach drops at the markings on his ship and helmet that tell me I'm certainly not mistaken in my identification that he's with the Resistance, spying an orange and white astromech with him. "It's your lucky day, I'm not New Republic."

"Thought not," I say, continuing to play naive. "They aren't allowed to patrol this sector anymore so that leaves the question of who you are."

He continues to play along and I realise he's enjoying this. "Take a wild guess?"

"A moonjockey in a beaten up x-wing?" 

"Beaten up?" I hear him repeat in offence and I can't help but smile. "Not everyone's got the credits to be flying state of the art N-1's so why don't you tell me what organisation you're with?" he asks, knowing I'm sure as hell not part of any New Republic starfighter corps if I'm attacking the First Order without provocation. "Bounty hunters guild or something like that, hired security?"

"Something like that," I answer before remarking "Maybe I'm just a pilot like you who's sick of those bastards and decided to take matters into my own hands."

He seems to like that answer as much as it surprises him. He keeps his ship level with mine and only then does it occur to me that my face could be recognisable from his angle since I can certainly see his, but he doesn't seem to have a damn clue who I am.

"You know," he begins. "The Resistance is looking for pilots."

I have to hold back laughter at the irony. "Is that so?"

"I was tracking the tie's that got behind you before you went into the asteroid field, counted fourteen you took out with those cannons, makes you a double ace, triple if you count the one's you herded into the asteroids."

"I'm a quadruple," I correct a little too proudly. "And that was easy work."

Somehow nothing clicks in his head which makes me wonder where the hell the Resistance believes I actually am for one of their pilots to not register who I must be. Even if he's a newer recruit I'm the daughter of Leia Organa and Han Solo, hell I was the best pilot they had before they permanently grounded me. People know who I am and I'm slightly offended he doesn't. 

Which is why I'm confused as much as amused when he offers. "You're a hell of a pilot, I've only ever known two pilots to pull off that manoeuvre you did and I'm one of them, definitely the only other one to be able to pull it off in space. If you're as good as you seem I can put you in touch with General Leia Organa herself."

I can't help but look back at R2 to make sure he's hearing this but instead of laughing along he beeps at me to consider it, to go home.

"I know I'm a hell of a pilot," I state. "Best one there is."

"Well I don't know about that," he says and wonder just how good he thinks he is. "But I'd be willing to see what you've got."

The challenge is clear in my voice. "Is that so?"

Instead of backing down like a responsible Resistance pilot should he takes it on. "That's right."

He tilts his helmet towards me and I make out the stubbled face beneath the helmet, even obstructed I can't miss the stupidly handsome grin he flashes me and he knows it. Typical flyboy.

Except I might actually like this one.

"Alright hotshot," I say and fire up my thrusters, finding myself genuinely curious. "You know, I never got your name."

"Commander Poe Dameron," he says and it rings a bell even if I know it won't come to me until later. "Of the Resistance if you haven't put that part together yet."

I roll my eyes and even R2 has to laugh at that until something clicks and I very quickly change my mind about liking this one. 

"Commander huh?" I say, realising he must be something then for a man who wasn't there a year ago to get promoted so quickly to a rank I never even held. It almost makes me bitter, nope, it definitely makes me bitter. Almost three years, there since the damn beginning and I was never even considered for that rank, then a new flyboy turns up and takes it. "You must be a real hotshot then."

"The best," he says and R2 begins calculating the jump to hyperspace before I can even give the command. "And you still haven't identified yourself."

"And I'm not going to," I say as I prepare to take off. "But I'm sure you'll figure it out Commander, give General Organa my regards."

He's taken back enough by that remark that I get a head start on him, my ship being far faster than his is with the illegal modifications to the thrusters and while he pursues I quickly lose him through the asteroid belt, getting far enough out of his line of sight until I'm satisfied before jumping to hyperspace so he can't follow and once I'm clear I realise my hands are trembling slightly.

Even if he has no idea who I am, Mom will piece it together if she hasn't already. If the First Order's profiled a rogue Naboo starfighter in the Outer Rims targeting tie fighters I know she has to have the same intelligence from Threepio's spy network. 

If she doesn't know what I've been doing, she's about to.

And if she thought me engaging the enemy was bad, she's going to lose it when she realises what I've been doing in the year since I left base. 

~

Poe

She jumps to hyperspace and I sit there purely stunned, the slight hit to my ego overshadowed by her piloting. I've never seen anyone ever fly like that except for myself, pulling off stunts I thought were impossible until I'd done them in the heat of a skirmish, and not just that, she pulled them off like they were nothing. 

I've come to think of myself as one of the best pilots in the galaxy, knowing it's not ego or arrogance but pure fact. I know damn well what I can do in a cockpit and the results I produce, but she might be the first person I've ever met who could possibly, potentially, have me beat.

I should be mad about that possible fact, but that's the last thing I'm feeling right now, and maybe there's a few butterflies flying about amongst the overwhelming awe. 

"She's something huh BB?" I find myself saying and shake my head in wonder. "Is this what love at first sight feels like because wow..."

No adequate words to finish that sentence come to mind and for a few more minutes at least I sit there stunned until getting it into my head that I have to tell Leia about her. For whatever no doubt valid reason she hates the First Order and she's picking them off like they're nothing, Leia's had me doing recruiting the past few months since I joined and I think I just hit gold.

I have to recruit her.

My heart's still racing from the encounter as I come out of hyperspace and enter D'Qar's atmosphere, asking myself who the hell she could be and what training she has to have to be able to fly like that. She has to be ex navy, or from a planetary starfighter corps, but even then I can't begin to comprehend that a rogue pilot who flies like that is picking off tie-fighters and hasn't been recruited. 

I've gotta tell Leia about her and then go track her down.

"Another boring patrol?" Snap asks as I climb down from my ship but I can't help the grin on my face and the moment my feet hit the ground I can practically feel myself pumping with nervous excitement and so can he. "Get some action then?"

"Oh I wish," I answer and can't help but blurt everything out to him. "Thought I was gonna get some when I tracked some tie-fighter's trying to ambush a lone starfighter but turns out she was the one ambushing them. I counted her take down fourteen with my own eyes and when I caught up to her and asked her to identify herself she just laughed like it was nothing." I find myself shaking my head, knowing it wasn't just her flying that left an impression. "Let me tell you Snap, she's something else."

"So Poe Dameron sees someone blowing up tie fighters and falls in love?" Snap teases while working on his ship, half listening. "Sounds about right."

"You should have seen her man, the manoeuvres she pulled, she pulled a L'ulo stand like it was absolutely nothing and let me tell you when I saw her I swear I did fall in love," I say and can't help but gush a little since it's just Snap. "Brunette with these big eyes, the messy eyeliner you know." He suddenly stops what he's working on but I don't take much notice. "She's got an attitude on her and she's damn beautiful too, but that's beside the point. I've never seen anything like what she did in the field, hell I don't even know where she learned a L'ulo stand but she did it in space. In space Snap! I thought I was the only person that's ever pulled that off." 

He looks over and clears his throat before asking "She identify herself?"

"No, she didn't," I admit, still a little mad she got away without identifying herself but she has to be contracted by someone in the sector to be taking them out with missiles like it's nothing. Hell I wish the Resistance had the spare credits to use torpedoes on tie fighter formations. Not that we're meant to even shoot at them of course. "But I've got another patrol in the sector in a few days and I'll track her down, she'd be a hell of an asset."

Cautiously he asks "And how old was she?"

"Early twenties maybe?" I guess and he nods, like he knows something I don't but my mind's racing a little too fast to think about that. "She was amazing, hell I've never seen anyone fly like that, except for me of course."

Snap nods slowly and slaps a hand on my shoulder. "Might want to mention that to the General."

"Already on it," I grin, maybe a bit ahead of myself but Leia's had me doing recruiting and I'd be neglecting my duty if I didn't follow this up, but I'd be lying if I said that's the only reason I'm excited. "You know, I think she was flirting with me."

He's visibly surprised and looks like he's struggling to keep a straight face as he says "Maybe not mention that part to the General."

~

The grin's still on my face as I come to Leia's office still in my flight suit but she hardly seems phased by the informal visit, if anything relieved to see me in one piece. "Poe you're back, did you find any activity around Tatooine?"

"Oh yep," I say and sit down across from her, practically buzzing with an excitement I haven't felt in a long time. "Two squadrons of tie's, I was following their trail when they were ambushed by a pilot in a Naboo starfighter and she took them out like they were nothing, fired a damn torpedo right into them."

"She?" She wears the same expression Snap did now. "Did she identify herself?"

"No, she took off before she did."

"Well did you get close enough to see her what she looks like or anything else identifying?" Leia asks and her sudden interest surprises me, but it's the desperate edge to her voice that really takes me aback.

"She was pretty," is the first thing that comes out of my mouth, even if it's an understatement, but I quickly realise I misspoke with how she raises her eyebrows at that answer.

"I'm going to need a little bit more than that Commander Dameron," she says with the fond but frustrated tone that's become familiar and I quickly try to redeem myself. 

"Early twenties, brunette, wasn't wearing a helmet and it um-looked like her hair was braided," I start trying to describe and realise she looks a bit like Leia but considering I just blurted out that she's pretty I won't say that, that would just make things weird. "Fair skinned, human."

I can't quite read her face as she clarifies "So she was flying a Naboo starfighter, and did she have a blue and white astromech, an R2 unit?"

"Yeah," I answer in surprise and at the look that crosses her face realise "You know her."

A thought quickly comes to mind but I dismiss it just as quickly. I know Leia has a daughter who's a pilot, Leia's said as much, but from what I've heard she's at university and doing political stuff in the core worlds on Leia's behalf so there's no chance it could be her and besides, there's no way the kid of Leia Organa would be out there acting like that and taking jobs for hire in the Outer Rims. Well considering that's Han Solo's kid as well it's possible but still, from what I've heard about her and seen on the holonews she's more of a politician like Leia than a hop in an x-wing and blow something up sort of fighter, otherwise she'd be on base leading the wing Leia put me in charge of.

Still, Leia takes a deep breath, having to stabilise herself. "I know this Naboo starfighter has gained quite the reputation in the Outer Rims," she reveals to me and feel that cloud of grief that so often follows the General, hear the ache in her voice that's so common but this time there's hope amongst it. "We've been trying to build a profile and the information you've just brought me is far more valuable than anything else you could have collected. Thank you Poe."

"I'm meant to go back out there in a few days," I begin, knowing I'm not gonna be able to let this go. "She's a hell of a pilot and I really think she could be a great asset."

"So do I," she says without missing a beat, amusement written across her face.

"She said she's sick of the First Order and it seems like she's being contracted to take out tie's in the sector so I told her the Resistance was recruiting and she said to give you her regards."

She stills now. "You spoke to her?"

"Yeah," I say and her face changes. "She might have a bit of an ego but from what I've seen she lives up to it. I've seen a lot of pilots but I don't think I've ever seen anything like her, she was picking them off like they were nothing, pulling stunts I've barely been able to pull off."

It hurts my pride a little to admit that but it's true, she really is something else and I need the General to see that as well. 

She purses her lips together and nods before asking "What else can you tell me?"

"Claimed to be a quadruple ace which not even Biggs Darklighter was but-"

"Not about her boasting," Leia sighs and I start to get the sense she actually must know her personally only to jump in my seat as she loudly exclaims "Quadruple ace?! How many kills is that?"

"Twenty or more," I answer and can't hide my concern as she puts her head in her hands. "General?"

"So you're telling me this rogue pilot has made herself a quadruple ace by hunting the First Order for sport?"

Not how I'd put it but I still nod, not seeing a problem with it. "Sounds about right."

"Force give me strength," she murmurs and asks "What impression did she give you besides being pretty and please use your head when you open your mouth this time."

I press my lips together slightly embarrassed, realising I definitely had the wrong choice of words there so try to make up for it now. "With the modifications to her starfighter she's got to have some credits to spare. Took her for the type to be doing contracted work to take them out since it's Tatooine and the people there wouldn't want the First Order anywhere near their business. When I asked if she was part of one of the guilds or something like that she said something like that and that she's sick of those bastards and decided to take matters into her own hands. Her words not mine."

She leans back in disapproval, but surprisingly not towards me. "Did she now?"

Before I can say anything else to put Leia off recruiting her I stress what I came here to say in the first place. "Which is why I recommended she consider the Resistance and that I'd put you in touch."

"You did?" she says and I realise I might have overstepped but stand by my decision.

"With all due respect General, you didn't see what I did out in the field."

"I'm quite aware of her skills," she says but before I can ask any more questions she waves me off. "I'll handle her, you focus on your patrols and have Snap fly a reconnaissance mission in the sector to see where those tie fighters were based, there's no doubt more where they came from."

"General, I can-"

"No, because you'll blow them up," she says knowingly. "That's if this rogue pilot doesn't get to them first. Thank you for bringing this information to me, could you write up a mission report as well."

She's frustrated, but not with me for once. She really does know this pilot personally.

I'm left with questions but the pained look in her eyes keeps my mouth shut and I nod. 

"Of course General."

"Thank you," she says again, genuine gratitude in her voice. 

Over the past few months I've been here I've felt the unmistakeable shroud of mourning that hangs over her as it does now, having become familiar with it from my own father. Except I've never seen such raw emotion in her eyes before, which leaves me wondering what history she and this rogue pilot could possibly have.

[hobgoblinsandpeachfuzz]

Fake title meme: Some Days You Just Can’t Get Rid of a Bomb (for any characters your heart desires :3 )

Thank you so much for this prompt because it was amazing AND I uh... accidentally wrote three fills for it xD I will link two of them because they are more esoterically related to the title...

A Court of Fey and Flowers (Gen)

Nandor x Guillermo

And then this one is played straight kind of. xD

Jango Fett x Zam Wessell x Cad Bane

It was probably not the wisest move to all gather round the Device, now that they knew it was a Bomb of unknown origin, kind, or ignition. But instinct was a hard thing to overcome, Jango knew.

And there was always some foolish drive in the flames of youth to follow instinct. Especially if it was to try and figure out how something blows up.

“So let me get this straight,” Bane grumbled, and Jango glanced up to see him rubbing at his temple. “You two clowns stole this from Hondo Ohnaka… So that we can sell it to Jabba. And none of know what it is. Or if this is a trap.”

“Clowns is a little harsh,” Zam bumped her hip into the duros’s, teasingly. Bane’s eyes narrowed and he scowled, but they’d all known each other long enough now—no one else could see that if he was really annoyed, more of his teeth would show—the lack of sharp canines in the expression let the slight twinge of affection shine through. Despite himself, Jango smiled.

Zam waved her hands in that wild way she only really did around the two of them, nearly hitting both of them as she began her long, convoluted explanation of the plan. Jango had heard it. It was. Stupid. But it was also clever. And ballsy. Something he knew only the three of them could pull of.

They just needed to convince Bane to use his tech skills to figure out precisely what they had stolen and how much they could charge for hazard pay.

“You’re so clever with all your little devices,” Zam was good at buttering up, but Jango knew Bane. He had an ego, as they all did, but among the three of them he appreciated competence and honesty.

“Most of which you stole, so this’ll be easy for you,” so Jango teased him. Bane shot him a much more fiery glare. He’d be lying if he said it didn’t make his heart skip a little. He knew what that specific glare meant too. And what it would mean later. He would look forward to it, but after the job was done.

Zam rolled her eyes, but was smiling. She liked to watch them flirt. He wasn’t sure why. But it wasn’t as if the two of them didn’t have their own share of flirtations that Bane rolled his eyes at. “And we know that the only person we trust to not get us killed is you, Bane. Just think of the Nemoidia job.”

“Don’t bring up the Nemoidia job,” Bane and Jango said at once. They even sighed at once. Zam called it something in Clawdite. She’d told him what it meant once. Shared soul. There was a word like that in Mando’a. He wasn’t sure if he’d ever tell Bane that. But part of him wondered if duros had a word too.

There was a pause. Zam would hold her breath during those pauses. For the drama, she would explain. And Bane would always just wait a little too long, just until her eyes bugged out a little. 

“Fine, fine!” Bane threw his hands up and knelt by the Device. “Get outta here, let me do all the hard work.”

Zam laughed, and skipped out of the ship, the victory practically glowing off of her. When she’d fully gone, Jango took the risk, and knelt over to kiss Bane lightly on the top of his bald blue head.

Bane only could stand public displays of desire, not affection. Affection was hard for him. He tensed, as he tended to, but relaxed into Jango’s touch, and only Jango’s. 

“Don’t blow up,” he smiled into a second kiss. 

Bane looked up at him, one brow raised. “What, you’ll miss me?”

“Something like that.”

[sinisterexaggerator]

Can you please write more Hondo?

Finish what you start

Hondo Ohnaka x Fem! Reader

Summary: Hondo Ohnaka catches you pleasuring yourself in his absence.

Word count: 3k+

Warnings: Masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, pining, blowjobs.

Notes: I wrote a fanfic like this for Shriv Suurgav and decided I wanted to try the same scenario for Hondo. Cad Bane may be next! Let's make it a series! ;D Shoutout to @allsystemsblue and @downrightembarassing for cheering me on and letting me bounce ideas off them - we all agree Hondo smells fabulous and practices good hygiene.

*This will probably be the last time I can post a fic before moving, but I have another Hondo one shot in the works - stay tuned! ;D

P.S.: I POSTED THIS FROM BATUU (Yes, I waited. I’m literally in line for Smuggler’s Run this very minute and they are talking about Hondo on the comm. 😭😭)

For once, you were bored. Florrum was all fun and games until the ringmaster of this circus abandoned his big top - Hondo Ohnaka had left you stranded by your lonesome in his lair with some dozen Weequay whose names you could not recall. You wandered its dingy corridors, dined on its sumptuous and delicious foods, drank of its rare and expensive beverages, and even sampled the more local fare – the green ooze known as “pirate’s brew” was an acquired taste and your palate preferred lush, full-bodied wine. Luckily for you, there was plenty to go around and then some, yet Ohnaka’s men did not seem all too pleased that you were there.

However, this did not bother you, going so far as to stick your tongue out in disrespect to one burly pirate who would not stop giving you the stink-eye. You were immune, as Hondo had long ago instructed them to give you anything your heart desired, one additional rule being that no harm should come to you as long as you resided within these halls.

Still, that did not mean it was their job to entertain you – that was Hondo’s area of expertise – and currently your jester king had decided it was best to leave you in the dark on his present whereabouts.

No doubt his exploits were dangerous and full of thrills. You were a mite jealous, wondering if one day he might take you along, or, if  on another day he might simply tire of you. He was a fickle lord, and you were his lady  - at least for now, and you were well aware your good fortune might come to a hasty end.

But, in that moment, you found yourself to be missing him. Hondo had been gone two days already and no other being on this dust ball of a planet wanted to give you the time of day.

After imbibing more than your fair share of drink for the evening, you retreated to your quarters – Hondo’s quarters – desiring nothing more than to be held tightly in his arms. You sighed deeply, knowing that you were not to get your way.

As your inebriation caught up to you, you sashayed forward, though the scourge of the galaxy was not here to watch you sway your hips. You fell face first onto the bed for the sake of playing into your own imaginary holodrama; you guessed you must appear to his crew like a forsaken hound waiting for its master to return.

Oh, but that is when you caught his scent, the Weequay’s sweet-smelling pheromones mingling with his cologne. The man was a fop for lack of a better word, his personal hygiene at the top of his priorities list. You were thankful for it; he smelled like dreams made of candy, dark undertones of something more sultry and seductive comingling together with sugar and spice, though you could never put your finger on what exactly it was he liked to wear.

You took a deep inhalation, burying your nose in the blankets and sheets beneath you as you let a dejected noise escape, wishing so badly that it was his crimson coat beneath your groping hands and not his ornate coverlet. Still, even in his absence, his heavenly aroma had roused within you a sleeping giant, one that demanded to be attended to – a sudden, all-encompassing lust that you were afraid would not be quieted lest you do something to ward it off.

But you could not pry yourself free of your plush prison, doomed by the provocative fragrance that had already flooded your nostrils. You flipped your body over to stare at the ceiling, all thoughts replaced by your truant pirate king. His toothy golden smile, the butter smooth intonations of his voice – it was the auditory equivalent of velvet, those sweet nothings he whispered in your ear enough to set your loins on fire.

Just thinking about it had already prompted your body to react as if preparing itself for the man’s admittance. You groaned at your desperation for him, somewhere between annoyed at yourself and in dire need of his patented affections. Instead, you took to hiking up your skirt, your own fingers sliding beneath the hem of your panties -  you were honestly surprised with how wet you already were.

You cursed his name as your writhed gently atop his luxurious bed, not bothering to even lock the door, though you were sure no one would dare disturb you - not that they cared to, anyway; you were positive the rest of Hondo’s men preferred it when you kept to yourself.

You gently massaged your clit, taking your time with yourself, mind focused on the idea of Hondo mounting you, his cock so unbelievably flawless you wished he was there to ram it inside you. He would do anything you asked; he would give it to you any way you might be keen to try, for Ohnaka was not one to skimp on lovemaking as he liked to call it.

You giggled to yourself before it turned into a moan; you were so entranced with your daydreaming that you did not hear the door slide open or the act of your beloved sitting himself down in a chair that was located just adjacent to the bed. Had you noticed, you would have seen the grin etched onto his striated face, Hondo settling in by way of a leg tossed casually over one of the chair’s two arms.

With eyes closed, you bit into your lip, turning your head in your self-sought pleasure to make yourself more comfortable. As you opened them once more you gasped, though you made no other sudden movements, having been caught red-handed by the scoundrel as he carefully scrutinized you with slanted, stormy greys.

“Please, continue,” he stated nonchalantly, though his mood was difficult to determine by his tone.

With your mouth open in shock, you simply stared at him; that was his cue to lean ever so slightly forward, Hondo’s eyes gleaming from beneath rectangular cuts of transparisteel as the grin he wore coiled into something a tad more lascivious.

“What are you tinking about?” he questioned, quickly followed by another query. “Es et me?” Then, he answered himself on the next beat, even as you continued to gaze straight through his goggles into slatey irises. “Of course et es.”

You moved to rise, barely lifting your neck before Hondo interjected a command: “Ap-ap-ap! Stay right dere, my dear. You must finish what you started.”

You gave him your best pout, but he was not convinced to interfere, motioning with a dismissive wave of one hand for you to proceed with touching yourself as he stayed seated before you. Observing that you chose to remain immobile, he had an idea.

“Let me add some reality tu dis fantasy of yours,” he quipped, rising to turn on some music that he favored.

The man began to dance, removing his signature coat one sleeve at a time for it to be tossed haphazardly onto the back of his chair. It was obvious he was making a show of it, putting no real effort into the act of being seductive, though his hands traveled the expanse of his own torso, waist, and hips before he sillily flipped his braids over the edges of his shoulders.

You couldn’t help but to laugh as you kept laying there, Hondo halting his performance abruptly to press a hand to the center of his chest. He scoffed, asking you something in a tone indicative of offense, yet you were sure he was only kidding: “You dare laugh at me? Am I not sexy tu you?”

Your giggling paused, Hondo walking away from you and back toward the seat he had vacated earlier. “Den you entertain me,” he said with finality.

Your lips trembled; he was always so hard to read, the pirate’s true nature still a mystery to you. Presently, you kept your gaze trained on the man as you cried a pathetic sound of longing. He was not impressed, that one leg kicking itself back up as he idly stroked the frills along his jowls.

“Come, my love,” he encouraged you with a sudden change in his disposition, his somewhat confusing demeanor melting away as it was replaced with something softer and more genteel. “Touch yourself for Hondo.”

That was all it took, at once your body’s arousal rekindling as you began to fondle the little nub between your legs.

“Yes, yes, just like dat, little one,” he complimented, his words urging you to refocus your attention.

He watched you for a time, Hondo’s own carnality easily being activated by the study of just how you chose to caress your little cluster of nerve-endings; they were housed between flower petals of flesh and blood, the pirate beginning to feel a twitch down below his beltline.

“Now, imagine my fingers gently exploring de curve of your waist, de … soft tissue of your breasts, hm? Maybe my tongue would like tu explore as well, ah?” he crooned, his voice low and licentious.

The pirate was deliberately working you, even as his own hand came to rest against the outside of his trousers. His cock jumped at the first sign of acknowledgement, as if just as greedy as the minx upon his bed to be stroked and coddled, which was not out of the realm of possibility.

You quivered on his lavish sheets, the fodder with which he was feeding your depravity effortlessly invading your mind’s eye. How you wished he would just shut up and actually touch you, yet you stopped yourself from voicing your sentiments out loud.

“Maybe et would like tu work at suckling dose exquisite tits,” he mused. “Or perhaps et would like tu very, very slowly invade your mouth for a most warm and wet kiss.” He punctuated the last word of his sentence just so, his statement having a questioning lilt, as if he were also curious what he might do should he allow himself access to your pleasing form.

“Hm, yes-” he started, his tone turning a shade darker, “-et might swirl and flitter with yours, plunging far, far down your throat, so deep dat you will never forget de feeling.”

His teasing sent shivers up your arms and down your legs, radiating outward from your core as you wriggled like a pinned insect among folds of deluxe bedding, your body aching for release.

You were so lost in his dirty talk that you failed to notice Hondo unbuckling his belt; it was emblazed with the symbol of his gang, though for now it lay slack to either side as he carefully unbuttoned his trousers to remove his cock from its cloth imprisonment.

“Ah, but remember, I will not be satisfied with just. one. taste,” Hondo reminded you, his long, ring-bedecked fingers beginning to caress the length of his prick as he settled more snugly in his seat.

“I would trade en lips above for lips below,” he whispered throatily, his words a deep rumbling in his chest. The pirate began seeking his own high, eyelids drifting to half-mast as he leisurely thumbed the head of his hardened cock.

Your teeth returned to tug at plump flesh as you ever so slightly quickened your pace, the increasing friction of your fingertips gliding vertically over your throbbing bud causing you to expel a pitiful mewl. You looked over to your king, at once whining your disapproval – you wanted to be the one handling his cock.

Still, the sight only aroused you further, but not as much as the next few utterances that passed beyond the witty thief’s gilded teeth.

“My tongue tracing de folds of your cunt - and ah - you are already so wet, aren’t you?” he asked, though he had not expected any sort of answer from you.

You gave him one anyway, breathing out an airy “yes” which he ignored, but a discerning eye could see the hint of a smirk smugly twitching at the corner of his thin-lipped mouth.

“Et sweeps across your slit, delving inside you. Maybe et tickles, but ah, et feels so good.” He placed his hand more succinctly around his girth, beginning to pump himself by way of an enclosed fist, Hondo deciding to take part in this daydream to the fullest extent.

“Mm, but I pay de most attention tu de little button dat resides at de tippy-tip-top. Dat es your favorite part,” he mused, the visual aid of him eating you out causing you to whine in yearning as you fretted all by your lonesome on his bed.

“I would flick-flick-flick your clit with de utmost precision and care,” he assured you, “lapping up every. bit. of pleasure you so graciously proffer me.” He hummed to himself for a moment, relishing the perfect speed at which he had taken to addressing his own needs.

“Den I would suck et between my lips, continuing tu dine on you as if you were a delicious meal I must consume. And my dear, you are,” he confirmed, as if there had ever been any doubt.

You moaned again as you were close to the brink, your constant rubbing in addition to Hondo’s narration of your masturbation session nearly having worked its magic. You kept your gaze trained on the man and his decidedly pretty dick, pining for it to be snug within your walls. It was as if the scoundrel read your mind, picking up his tale where your imagination had left off.

“Now dat you are so very ready for me, darling, I would take de plunge. Oh, and you take et, so, so well. Every inch es so satisfying, hm?” He subsequently snickered, peering at you from across the way with drowsy eyes.

“Your desire for me es practically palpable, little bird,” he announced despite it being obvious, yet your thoughts did not wander far from the imagery he had placed inside your head even as he playfully derided you.

Hondo picked up his tempo, palming the full breadth of his cock as he envisioned himself steeping his stout prick in and out of you, your depths warm and slippery with your excess.

You had sulkily frowned in agreement, your breath quickening as you approached the edge of your orgasm. Nearly there, your hips gently bucked beneath the soft fabric of your dress, your heart anxious for the pirate to stop narrating and start fucking you until you couldn’t walk straight.

Instead, you were left to your own devices, Hondo apparently close as well as his storytelling capabilities were dwindling, though he still had sense and wits enough about him to weave the next bit of his risqué yarn.

“So slow at first, just a steady en and out, like de ebb and flow of an ocean on some distant, watery planet.” 

“Mmn, mhmm,” was all you had the capacity to say in return.

“I hit all de right angles, for I always do. And you know dis,” he confirmed. “Back and forth, deeper and longer strokes, all de while my deft fingers massage your pretty pearl.”

He beamed at you, his smile brighter than the highly charged particles dispelled at lightspeed off the backs of ion engines, though you were only half cognizant by now of your surroundings.

“And den,” he added simply, “you will cum for me.”

The low notes spoken in that deep baritone, the glint in his glacial grey eyes behind his ever present goggles – you unraveled at the seams as Hondo praised your obedience to his surprisingly well-timed command.

“What a good girl you are,” he concluded.

Delectable mewls escaped your lips in intervals, the air stored inside your lungs expelled in spurts along with them; your hips gyrated gingerly in place of their own volition as you rode the wave of pleasure to its end.

Hondo all the while studied you as he unabashedly continued to guide himself toward the finish line, using the beautiful visual before him to assist him in this process. Then, the Weequay hummed once more; it was a little melody you did not recognize and meant for no one but himself.

You relaxed for all but ten seconds, feeling your own body lose its tension as the breathing of your lover increased its rapidity and fervor; he was about to climax — you refused to let him, not without your aid — you would be damned if you didn’t have your way.

He had his, after all.

You sat up straight, gathering the edges of your skirt so as not to trip as you launched yourself theatrically forward. You tumbled purposefully onto your knees, though making an effort not to bruise yourself, the pirate’s askant eyes expanding before instantaneously contracting. Gold teeth were exposed as he eagerly watched you collect his cock, his upper lip curling outward to add a smidge of something villainous to his expression.

Oh, but it quickly faded from his handsome face as you imbibed his member to the base of its shaft, your tongue running semicircles around raised ribs before you puckered your cheeks to suck greedily to your heart’s content. You sighed languorously at the feeling of it brushing against the back of your throat, murmuring a happy sound as you knew he would not last long.

Hondo’s breath hitched in his lungs before he lifted one hand to fiddle with your hair, mind clouded with buzzing thoughts as he tried to get a handle on his speech.

“So eager,” he muttered, tenderly tracing the curve of your cheek with the back of his index finger. Thick quadriceps tightened, overall the Weequay’s muscles clenching before your mouth finally received the prize it sought.

Hondo’s body slowly unwound itself, decompressing with every pump of semen that shot to the back of your throat, lithe digits remaining to lovingly pet your locks as he gazed down into your eyes — you were staring up at him as you guzzled every last drop he had to give, your muscles working overtime to usher his ejaculate down into your belly for safekeeping.

“And so very thirsty,” he purred, dick still sporadically lurching as you drained him dry. He was not one to tap out, but you were capable of detecting when the man was spent. You skimmed the head of his cock with your tongue for good measure, licking up any that had managed to dribble down.

“You. are. magnificent,” Hondo extolled, failing at first to regain his equilibrium. However, he was not exactly in a hurry, more than willing to sit here a while longer than anticipated.

“You left me,” you puled, kissing the mushroom tip of his alien phallus before you laid it to rest against his spreadeagled thighs. You kissed those, too, fingers traveling over what felt like solid rock, pouting as the pirate gently lifted up both your hands to cradle between his own.

“And for good reason!” Hondo declared with renewed vigor, planting his lips against the center of your palm. Then, he released you, moving to adjust his genitals and to refasten his pants.

“Come, let me tell you a story over a proper drink-” he chuckled, “-see if we can curtail dat insatiable thirst of yours, my dear.”

You accepted his invitation, more than thrilled to keep him company, and, if you played your cards right, you were sure you could convince him for another round – drinks or otherwise.

-----

Reblogs / comments / likes appreciated!

Masterlist

Hondo masterlist

[mwolf0epsilon]

20 questions!

Tagged by @corvod , this should be fun!

How many works do you have on AO3?

35 written works.

What’s your total AO3 word count?

589,410 exactly.

What fandoms do you write for?

Currently it's just Star Wars stuff.

What are your top five fics by kudos?

-The Joey Drew Studios Unused Reel Collection (BATIM drabbles) -Of Clones and Collateral Damage (TCW Whumptober drabbles) -There's a War Out There (TCW Whumptober drabbles) -The Frog Trooper (TCW fic where Dogma is turned into a frog) -In Which Fives's Coping Mechanism Accidentally Saves a Galaxy Far Far Away (TCW fix-It fic where Fives gets into a ridiculously situation)

Do you respond to comments? Why or why not?

I try to respond to comments but sometimes when I'm in a bad funk I end up forgetting for a while. I just think it's nice to respond to anyone who was nice enough to leave their thoughts.

What’s the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

I am currently working on it :)

What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Definitely The Frog Trooper!

Do you get hate on fics?

Hmm, I haven't seen anything super negative yet and hope I don't in the near future...

Do you write smut? If so what kind?

Very rarely and I don't usually share because it's a little embarrassing...

Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written?

When I was younger I would daydream about crossovers constantly, but putting it into an actual fic would be a little hard to keep up with.

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not yet I haven't, and hope it never happens.

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Nope.

Have you ever cowritten a fic before?

In my DA days I did. But due to changing accounts I lost my parts of that fic, which I think my co-writer is still angry about to this day despite the situation that lead me to changing accounts being pretty difficult...

What’s your all-time favourite ship?

Depends on what I'm feeling, but right now I'm quite partial to Hogma (Hondo Ohnaka x Dogma) and Alphobi (Alpha-17 and Obi-wan Kenobi)

What’s a WIP you want to finish, but doubt you ever will?

All of my WIPS go through that process so I can't really name any for sure, because you never know...

What are your writing strengths?

Probably dialogue. I get really into it, more so than the rest of the story ^^;

What are your writing weaknesses?

Pacing, structuring and the occasional grammatical slip-up that comes from English not being my native language.

Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?

I've written some Portuguese and Spanish dialog on occasion. But in star wars fics thus far I've sprinkled Mando'a here and there. I think it adds flavor because you can't expect everyone to speak english. That's not how it works.

First fandom you wrote for?

I honest to god can't remember. I was writing fanfics since I was a tiny kid with no real archive.

Favourite fic you’ve ever written?

The Frog Trooper is my pride and joy, and I am honestly happy it's one of my top 5 hits.

No pressure tags: @british-hero , @milfcutlawquane and @gaeasun

[beating-a-dead-plot]

Character List + Rules

Hello! I’m Petunia, welcome to my blog! 

I am a massive Star Wars nerd, I spend most of my free time reading, writing, watching, or even talking about Star Wars. I will admit, I have not seen Solo or Rise of Skywalker, neither of them were available to me at the right time and I never went back for them, sadly. Despite this, if someone really thinks I should watch them, I am open to debate! 

Rule and Character List under the cut: 

Rules: 

NO SMUT, though, my blog is 18+ because I do share smut fics and that sort of thing. I don’t care if you’re only 17, wait that extra year before following or I will block you. 

I love romance, I am a sucker for love and fluff, so that is my main market, however I will write angst or hurt/comfort if requested!

No clone x clone except in platonic or familial situations, just not something I enjoy reading or writing.

No hate towards specific ships, even if I personally dislike them. 

No underage characters in relationships with adult characters in a romantic light, platonic or familial only please.

I WILL take requests of me to listen to a specific song while writing, I understand that music can greatly influence writing, and I’d love to bring your thoughts to life!

Characters I Will Write For: 

Din “Mando” Djarin

Boba Fett

The Armorer

Paz Vizsla

Omera and Winta (Only in a platonic scene) 

Cara Dune

Fennec Shand

Migs Mayfeld

Luke Skywalker

Leia Organa

Han Solo

Chewbacca (Only in a platonic scene) 

Krrsantan (Also known as Santos and Black Krrsantan)

Garsa Fwip

Cassian Andor

Jyn Erso

K-2SO (Only in platonic scenes)

R2-D2 and C3-PO (Only in platonic scenes)

Obi-Wan Kenobi, throughout his life. (Though I reserve the right to turn down a request I don’t feel I can fulfill)

Owen Lars (Young or Kenobi-Era only please)

Darth Vader (I’m iffy on this one, I may be selective with requests for this character) 

Padme Amidala

Any handmaidens of Padme Amidala who are mentioned in the Queen’s Trilogy by E.K. Johnston. 

Jango Fett

Qui-Gon Jinn

Darth Maul

The Grand Inquisitor

Hera Syndulla

Kanan Jarrus

Ezra Bridger (Only in platonic scenes)

Sabine Wren (Only in platonic scenes) 

Zeb Orrelios

Ahsoka Tano (Only in a platonic scene)

Hondo Ohnaka 

Embo

Asajj Ventress 

Shaak Ti

Aayla Secura

Plo Koon

Quinlan Vos

Savage Opress 

Satine Kryze

Any clone you want, just please be understanding if they are too obscure for me to feel I can accurately portray them. If I like the idea, or even if I just think it might be fun to write, I will definitely stalk Google and Tumblr to find more information before deciding whether I will write for them. If you want a fic for a clone, no matter how random or small ASK ME, I will always answer and let you know if I can do it!

Ships I Will Write For:

Blyla

Codywan

Quinfox/Foxquin/Vos

Wolffe/Plo Koon (Only in a platonic scene)

Rexsoka (Only in a platonic scene)

Anidala

Finnpoe

Cassian/Jyn

Baze/Chirrut

Han/Leia

Bail/Breha

Foxiyo 

Kanera

Obitine

Obi-Wan/Jango Fett 

DinLuke

Mace Windu/Commander Ponds

Owen/Beru

Other Assorted Platonic Ships, if you want it, ask me!

And, lastly, pretty much ANY clone trooper who appears in Clone Wars, and including Bad Batch! If they have a name, I don’t care how obscure, I will do my best to know them well enough to write what you desire. If I fail miserably, at least you’ll have a good laugh! 

[swreactions]

Welcome to Star Wars Reactions!

Happy Star Wars Podcast Day everyone! To celebrate 25 years of podcasting about the Saga, hosts Aaron Harris and David Modders bring back our Profile Series where they sit down and take a more indepth look at some of the background characters who sometimes get overlooked in the grand scheme of things.

For this episodes, they sit down to explore everyone’s favorite Weequay pirate, Hondo Ohnaka! Join the discussion as they explore Hondo’s history through the saga, his contributions and connections to the main story, and explore why this character is important to the Star Wars story.

Plus you don’t want to miss this weeks Star Wars Dad Joke of the Week!

Talking Points:

Opening

Star Wars Podcast Day 2024

Profile of Hondo Ohnaka

Biography

Overall Thoughts about Hondo

The Clone Wars

Star Wars Rebels

Galaxy’s Edge

Why is Hondo Important

Closing

Star Wars Dad Joke of the Week

Star Wars Reactions: Elegant discussions for a more civilized age!

Follow Star Wars Podcast Day on social media for all the latest announcements and to find out all the shows who are participating! You can find them on Facebook, X (formerly known as Twitter), Instagram, and Threads!

Click here to leave us a voicemail via SpeakPipe! Email us here! Follow us on X (formerly known as Twitter)! Follow us on Facebook! Follow us on Instagram! Follow us on TikTok! Follow us on Threads! Follow us on Bluesky! Follow us on Pinterest! Subscribe on YouTube! Follow Aaron and David on X (formerly known as Twitter)! Follow David on Instagram!

[nothinglikethesimulations]

No one:

Maul: My apprentice, Ezra Bridger...

[sporadicthingcollection]

Hondo would be that kind of mfer who would show up to Cad and Irno’s wedding despite being explicitly not invited.

So fun fact about Zeltron weddings: you don't actually need an invite to go to one. It's like a big block party! Complete strangers show up, wish the happy couple well, and get fucked up at the bar. It's a beautiful thing.

So it's not really crashing a wedding if there's no cultural concept of wedding crashing.

---

Cad Bane is a very... actually, he's a pretty happy man right now. Kind of impressive, considering the week he's had. 

It's mostly because he's almost too drunk to stand. Zeltron liquor packs a punch and people have been sliding him shots all night: your brothers and your in-laws and your cousins and your neighbors and complete strangers that have shown up because Zeltron weddings are apparently a free-for-all...

But it's not every day he gets married. Why not cut loose a bit? You're off doing the same thing, probably.

...Where are you, anyways?

He scans the crowd for you, but the things he usually identifies you by are useless right now. Everyone here is pink, you're not in your usual attire, and he's seeing double.

...well, not everyone is pink. There are some Humans, a few Twi'leks, he thinks he saw Harch a few minutes ago, and a Weequay with a stupid hat...

He gets a stabbing pain right behind his eyes, and he knows it's not the liquor.

Hondo Ohnaka is drunk enough to slur a single word. "Cad!" he warbles. "Small galaxy!"

Ohnaka goes to embrace him, and, for the first time in forever, Bane lets him. He's in a good mood and he refuses to let Ohnaka ruin it.

"Hondo," he says. "Hell're ya doin' here?"

"Same thing as you! Party hopping!" He leans in conspiratorially. "The wedding bars are cheaper than regular ones!"

"Wouldn't know." A Zeltron shoves a drink into Bane's hand and says something that sounds like 'salute ya.' He considers tossing it back like the rest, but he hands it to Ohnaka. "Here."

Ohnaka grins and tosses it back. Over his shoulder, through a part in the crowd, Bane sees little Anthunia, her brow knit up in confusion. She spots him and trots right for him.

Anthunia crawls right between Ohnaka's legs. The pirate nearly trips over himself to get away as she pops up.

"I can't find my mama," she says loudly at Bane.

And here's his out.

"Probably with yer Auntie Irno," he says. "Go find 'er."

Ohnaka's brows shoot up as he hears your name. He lowers one as he peers at Bane.

Bane just shrugs. "Who's weddin' do ya think dis is?"

Both brows shoot up again, and then a grin splits Ohnaka's face. "You dog," he chuckles, shaking a finger. "One last fling before she's gone forever? Or are you the backdoor man?"

Bane wrinkles his rostrum. "Not in front of de kid," he says to Ohnaka. "Why don't ya go find de bride? Steal one last dance off 'er."

Ohnaka's grin grows wide and lecherous. Had he more faith in his coordination, Bane would have smacked him, but as it stands, he's barely standing.

He turns back to Athunia. "Bring dis guy to see yer aunt," he says. "He's an ol' friend."

Athunia appraises the pirate, her little hair puffs bouncing as she looks him up and down. But he meets whatever criteria she had, so she grabs his hand and drags him off into the crowd.

Bane waves him off. She'll be fine. She's a tough little cookie -- if she's not afraid of him, she definitely won't be afraid of Hondo.

Another shot gets shoved into his hand. He drinks this one, praying that it tastes a little bit better than the rest.

It does not. It still tastes like battery acid and it burns going down, adding to the uncreasingly inpleasant burn in his belly.

...unpleasantly increasant. Increasantly unpleasing. Increasing unpleasant--

A short, surprised shriek splits the air. Your shriek. If he sits up straight, he can see you staring wide-eyed at Ohnaka, hands over your mouth. Your mother, standing behind you, looks as confused as you are shocked.

And just like that, Ohnaka is officially not his problem anymore.

Bane throws back the rest of the shot and waves the bartender over for a chaser.

---

"Catch Us If You Can Masterpost" | To the Mastahpost | Tip Jar