#The Clone wars/Reader

[moodymisty]

If you’re taking requests, can you do sex pollen (it’s 60 I’m pretty sure) with Cody? Tysm! 🥰

Author’s note: Hey hun! Sorry you sat in my inbox for quite a bit, I was trying to think of the best way to go about this. I took the typical route of having Cody get the pollen sniff, but if people want I have some #neato ideas for a fic where the reader gets the pollen sniff. (Pst if anyone wants it, the trick is to spam my inbox)

I've never actually written anything for sex pollen before, so bear with me on this;

Relationship: Commander Cody/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Sex pollen trope, Light dubcon? The typical sex pollen ‘I can’t hold back’ type, Rough sex of the quick and dirty kind, Unprotected sex,

06:00; It’s barely going to be dawn when we set out…

The datapad in his hands shines a soft light onto Cody’s plastoid armor as he walks, reading over the report yet another time.

It has to be the third time he’s looked it over by now, but he just can’t help it. Maybe it’s a nervous tick; Maybe it’s just an attempt to reassure himself.

It’s late enough into the night that the halls are pretty much completely empty, apart from a few clones working on cleaning and maintenance duties. It’s the most quiet he’s ever seen this base, and while in a way it’s comfortable, it also instills a bit of worry into him

A calm before the storm, he might dare to say.

But it isn’t something he can afford to be affected by, not when he has so many men looking to him for orders. Both on this mission, and in general.

Only one squad for a recon mission; We’re going to be spread thin out there…

At least this planets wildlife isn’t as hostile as Kashyyyk, according to previous missions. But recon still holds it’s hazards.

Cody doesn’t have a bad feeling about the mission per say, but he has an inkling that it might not go exactly as it’s planned. Granted, he can’t exactly say that many GAR missions go as planned; As is the nature of war.

“Commander!”

Eyes leaving the datapad they quickly look around, the sound of someone’s yell echoing through the quiet hall. He glances around for a moment until he sees an arm waving at him, and the clone steps out further out of the doorway once they think he can’t see them. It’s Waxer.

“Come here!”

Cody speeds up to a jog and quickly approaches, looking at the trooper with concern.

“Is something wrong?”

Normally people don’t exactly yell for him unless something’s wrong, or is very soon going to be. Instead however Waxer is smiling wide enough to hurt, and is almost seeming somewhat mischievous.

“I have a surprise.”

Waxer isn’t really prepared for the confused and not very excited look Cody sports, but still tries to keep up his play.

After all he knows well that this is a surprise Cody wants, even if he doesn’t quite know it yet. After seeing Cody’s suspicious look, Waxer still maintains his look of knowing excitement.

And so he steps aside, revealing Boil; Unsurprising, but also you. Which needless to say makes Cody’s eyes noticeably widen.

“Surprise!”

You smile at him, a big sweet one that has your cheeks squishing. Waxer has to contain his laugh at the way Cody so visibly perks at the sight of you, before him and Boil quickly move to dip out of the room. They got their moment of fun out of this, time to sleep.

Meanwhile you move to casual cross your arms and stare at the commander, him only moving a footstep to let the two troopers by but not unlocking sight from you.

“Got a minute? Since you’re here and all.”

Cody doubts he’ll get too much sleep tonight anyways, so he decides to indulge in a moment of your time. A pleasant surprise. A more than pleasant one.

After letting the other troopers by he takes two large strides following you into the room before the door slides shut behind him, looking around. The place looks clean, apart from some shoddily packed supply crates and a table overfilled with bits and baubles. It’s all medical stuff, Cody honestly hasn’t a clue what most of it is beyond the necessities.

“They stationed you here? When?”

He didn’t expect to see you here, normally you stayed on Coruscant.

“Yeah, they had me come out as a base medic. It was last minute; I found out a few hours after you’d already shipped out of Coruscant. Sorry I didn’t have the chance to tell you.” You can already see his shoulders beginning to relax a bit, and part of you worries if Cody’s been overworking himself again. He’s constantly neglecting himself, and no matter much you scold him about it, he still does. Part of you thinks it’s just muscle memory now.

“I’m just happy I get to see my boys in orange in the field.” Cody lets a small smile grow.

“I’m sure they’ll be happy to have you here. Always improves morale.” A medical droid beeps as it goes about it’s pre-programmed business behind you, as you grin even wider.

“Aww, I improve morale?”

Suddenly, Cody feels a little less confident; And can’t prevent the way his eyes look away for a moment.

“Well, a lot of the troopers have gotten a little spoiled on your bedside manner.” Cody’s upper lip curls up a bit on one side.

She’ll fix you up good for sure; Helps that she’s so nice on the eyes.

Cody hadn’t punched that trooper for saying that about you, but he sure had wanted to.

“A little too spoiled.”

In his stiff expression you take the moment to walk closer to him, pressing your chest against his and wrapping your arms around his neck.

“Well don’t worry; You’re the only Commander I get orders from. You always get my best bedside manner.” Cody smiles as you tug on his neck enough to pull his lips to yours, stealing a rare kiss while you have the chance. You get them so rarely, and now that you’re both in the same spot, you can’t help but be a little greedy.

He can’t help it either, but Cody tends to be just a tad more subtle about it.

Though not subtle enough to not clue in a good portion of the troopers under his command about it; Though they’d never dare tell.

“I wouldn’t be too happy if you weren’t.” Cody sees that mischievous smile of yours, tucking away that little tidbit of information for later. You can’t use it right now but, maybe when he’s on shore leave back on Coruscant.

“Loyal to the 212th, sir.”

He ‘tsks’ you and shakes his head. That tone of voice you’re using is a one stop shop to trouble.

“Watch it. We’re not in your apartment. Don't try and use that on me.”

If only you were. Cody cuts your meeting short now however, as he’s already taken up so much time already. He doesn’t have much of it, especially now that they’re about to go out on mission. Pulling away from your arms he makes sure his armor is on right and his hair is fixed, nodding to you a good night before moving to the door.

You catch him just before his hand hits the button however, causing him to turn around with raised eyebrows.

“One for good luck.”

You steal one more kiss, before finally letting him go. He has to get what little bit of sleep he can muster up before they have to roll out, even if it’s already so late already.

But with you closer by he can sleep just a bit more soundly, even if it’s nowhere near as indulgent as when he’s in your home.

---------------------------------------------

It’s still in the early dawn; As Cody as suspected. By the time they land the light was barely shining through the trees, and the air still laid with a light chill. Nothing that would affect troopers wearing full armor, and if anything bringing some relief before the forest would quickly begin to heat up.

“Keep your heads up. We don’t fully know whats out here yet; Sentient or otherwise.”

The small group of troopers all nod, holding blasters secure as the gunship cools down. The pilot is to keep it landed and at the ready, the landing zone well hidden by a myriad of tall trees and bushes.

“They gave us a good idea what’s out here, but we’re still going in blind.”

With one squad of troopers it’s a good amount for searching a small area, but not a lot for any sort of oncoming firefight. They still don’t know where the Separatist base activity is, and the plan is to find evidence of droid travel or construction that could lead them there.

Though it seems the forest is intent on fighting back against their efforts, it seems.

Troopers are attempting to weave around trees and brushes, and dodging small animals scurrying past them in fear. Nothing is attacking however, which is a small victory.

“Sun’s rising quickly, Commander.”

Good, Cody thinks. True stealth was never is forte. If anything, the lack of blaster fire almost makes him uncomfortable.

What is in the ground that makes these damn plants grow so big… The flower stems are thicker than some trees.

Neither is navigating around large plants his specialty, as one particularly bright colored batch of flowers blocks the little wildlife-created path he’d been using. The sheer size of the petals on the central flower is causing the plant to weep over the path, and Cody has to shuffle around it.

In his effort to brush by the plant he doesn’t have much room to maneuver, and ends up colliding against one of the petals with his thigh. It shakes an sunset colored pollen shakes off of it, coating a bit of his thigh armor as well as wafting upward.

It smells, odd.

If he had to describe it he would say it smelled sweet; Though not of the sickly sweet kind like some flowers. As he walks a hand brushes down to get some of the sticky pollen off his armor, though it only ends up sticking to his glove; As he fails to watch the area ahead of him.

He trips on one of it’s other bulbous roots and falls to one knee, wincing at the pain of it taking the brunt of his weight.

“Commander! Are you ok?”

Quickly a trooper comes to his aid, offering out a hand that Cody gently refuses.

“I’m fine; Just a tree root. Keep moving.”

Cody stands upright, brushing himself off and regaining what tiny bit of compose that he’d lost. The team only ends up trekking forward for a short while longer, before Cody feels they aren’t making any notable progress. They aren’t doing anything a probe droid wouldn’t be able to do. There’s no sign of Separatist activity in this sector at least, they’ll have to send another team out to keep scouting.

“Lets pull back; We’re straying too far from the ship. It looks like night’s going to fall soon too.”

With the soldiers gathered they slowly retrace their steps back to the ship, and pile back in. Overall uneventful by 212th standards, granted they aren’t used being sent on these sorts of recon missions.

The gunship remains quiet for a good while as everyone pulls off their helmets, including Cody; Who holds onto the dangling support handle with a white knuckle grip beneath his gloves.

It must be the humid air on this planet; His entire body just feels tight and hot. It had been steadily rising ever since they’d pulled back to the ship, and while he feels off, he can’t quite place what.

“Commander, you doing ok?”

Cody rubs his neck and pulls at the collar of his body glove, nodding. He feels tense, but nothing to admit to anyone else.

“I’m fine, trooper.”

Boil doesn’t seem to fully believe him, but levels off when Waxer makes a joke about it being stuffy in the gunship with so many bodies in here. Boil agrees but, it shouldn’t be enough to make someone start to sweat, as Cody’s skin seems to have almost a light sheen on it.

“We’ll be back to the base soon anyways.” Waxer leans back, intent to enjoy a few moments of the gunship’s engines rumbling.

All stays quiet until the base is nearly in sight over the treeline, and suddenly Cody’s grip on the hanging support handle loosens and he almost falls to the ground.

“Woah! Commander!”

Boil quickly moves to catch him, though Cody steadies himself enough that he doesn’t quite need it.

“You’re not looking to good…”

Another trooper leans into the cockpit, speaking to the pilot.

“Hey you might wanna hurry up, the Commander isn’t looking to good back here.”

The pilot grows a look of concern, even as he gunship lands and the troopers all quickly shuffle out. Waxer attempts to stand closer to Cody just in case, but he snubs him away regardless.

“I’ll be fine, really I-”

Gods, it’s so hot in here. Feel like I’m boiling alive.

Cody tugs at the collar of his body glove, and makes his way to your office. If you weren’t here he might’ve attempted to tough whatever this is out; But he knows damn well that if you’re here one of his troopers will tell- and you will kill him.

Hell, you might clap him for getting caught unawares by something so silly; You’ve done it to his troopers for less.

He may not be a medic but he understands the sentiment, especially since you’ve had to become so used to the clones coming in and out of your care in the hundreds.

The moment he enters he wants to hit himself, seeing the way your face goes from excitement to shock within moments.

“Cody-” You stop once you see his face, as well as his troopers behind him.

“What happened?”

Out of all of the ones to get hurt, you hadn’t expected it to be Cody; Given how vigilant and strict he usually is. He sits hard on the examination table, pushing a few stray curls of his hair off his damp forehead.

“He was fine for the entire mission, but when we were on the gunship back he almost passed out.”

Boil and Waxer look over their commander concerned, before darting to look at you for answers.

“Just give him some air. Don’t worry, I’ll tell you all the moment anything changes after I give him a once over.” They don’t exactly look like they want to leave, but the moment you give them a stern look, they nod and move to retreat.

“Take good care of him, ma’am.”

Too busy trying to gather your tools you don’t object to the overly formal tone they still sometimes fall into using with you, before the door slides shut behind them.

“Ok, let me just get-” Turning around to grab one more thing, the moment you do so you notice Cody attempting to slip off the medical table, even in his unstable state. Quickly you move to push him back down, hands on his shoulders.

“Cody, seriously. You need to sit down for a bit.” He attempts to get up again despite your insistence.

“I’m fine, I-” one hand attempts to push his shoulder.

Why is it that just now that he has a good look at you, he suddenly feels like he’s underwater?

Gods, she looks...

“No you are not! Your heart rate is crazy high and your temp is so high you look overheated.”

Don’t care. Come closer to me. Put your hands on me again.

He barely hears what you’re saying, with the way he feels your hands touching him. It all feels exaggerated, and he wants more of it. Nothing else even matters.

More more more more...

He’s noticing how suffocatingly tight his armor feels; All of it, codpiece included. He hadn’t realized the erection he’d been sporting until just now, when he feels the throbbing underneath his armor. When you turn around from gabbing something and notice him attempting to pull of his chestplate, and attempt to help him get more comfortable. But when you do, one of his hands suddenly grasps your wrist instead.

“Cody! What the-”

His lips are suddenly pressing against the corner of your mouth with so much force it almost sends you toppling forward onto him, hands against his chest.

“S-Slow down!”

You don’t even know whats come over him so suddenly, but it seems to have almost completely taken over his entire mind. He’s mumbling your name, moaning and groaning as if in both pleasure and pain. His eyes are blown out, almost completely dilated. You’ve only ever seen them like that when you’re...

He’s able to tear of various pieces of his armor even in this state, even as you attempt to hold him still enough to figure things out.

“Cody, you need to-”

His movements cut your voice off, as he gets up and pushes you onto the table instead. With his chest piece and a few other pieces of armor torn away, you gasp at the suddenly feeling of his mouth pressing against the vein in your neck. He nips and sucks as if trying to taste every bit of you, forcing your knees apart so his hips can grind against your own.

“Fuck... I, you need to sit down… We can’t do this here...”

It’s not as if you can fight him on it much, more so as he tempts you into whatever his fogged mind is thinking. Your hands grip his shoulders tight but no longer are intently trying to push him away, as your bottom lip slips between your teeth.

Even through his thick body glove you can feel how hard his cock his, only moving away for you to slide a hand downward and free himself.

He’s still panting and groaning, Syllables of your name being caught in-between.

You barely have time to even assist him in getting off your bottoms, before he’s wrenching them down and snapping multiple threads. One shoe gets pulled off in the process and your pants and underwear dangle by one ankle, and with the only obstruction out of the way, his frantic attempts to free his cock yield fruit as he presses against you.

He’s throbbing; Desperate and grinding against your heat as his teeth scrape against part of your exposed collarbone. Your juices coat his cock quickly as he rubs in-between your folds, teasing you and pulling even louder sounds from yourself. Not as loud as him however, as Cody’s the most unabashedly loud you’ve ever seen him. Normally he tries to be somewhat couth even in the most intimate of times, though this time, he just doesn’t seem to care.

Whatever has snapped in his has him only caring about sex sex sex, and neither location or timing seems to matter in the fucking slightest.

You don’t resist him when he slips a hand between you and aligns his cock against your entrance, shoving himself inside of you as you gasp and hold onto him.

He begins fucking you almost instantly and relentlessly; Seeking to desperately grab the only thing his mind is telling him he needs while you moan underneath him. He’s thrusting into you with such strength he ends up sliding you backwards on the table and away from him, until he grips your hips tightly and wretches you right onto the very edge of the table back close to him.

The motion makes you squeal, though Cody seems to pay no mind to it.

He doesn’t seem to pay much mind to anything, other than the way your cunt tightens around him like a vice, warm and hot. He fucks you through it as your nails dig into the skin of his shoulders and neck, some leaving marks even over his body glove.

Though you doubt he’ll much care with whatever has overtaken him still having it’s hold, as Cody slams his hips against your own.

“F-Fuck, Cody…”

It’s almost like he’s outside himself; So blindly confused by lust that he barely knows up from down.

He knows you however, and is driving as deeply into you as he can while his teeth scratch against your neck. He only dares to slow when his hands grip so tightly his fingers are leaving dents in your skin, cumming deeply inside you. He feels so hot, both on where ever he’s touching you, and inside of you. It either doesn’t effect him or he doesn’t care about anything else.

His mouth never leaves your as your fingers wrap in his hair, gasping as your body feels tight as a coil.

“Cody, you have to slow down, I-”

He doesn’t listen, or maybe he can’t; As it’s only moments before he’s already fucking you again, desperately trying to feed his hunger. He drives himself so deep inside of you it almost feels to far, causing you to moan to the point your throat almost feels hoarse.

It’s his grinding against every part of you, hands pulling you so tight against him that it’s almost like he wants to become one with you, that has your heart pounding against it’s cage and unravels you, crossing your ankles behind his hips and keeping him close as you cum around him. He slows but just barely; He’s not going to dare stop, his body won’t let him.

You feel so soft and tight around his cock it’s perfect, exactly what he had needed, but he still doesn’t feel like he’s satiated.

It almost feels like hours before Cody is even able to speak a coherent sentence again, the fog finally lifting from his head enough to do so.

“I, what…”

He’s still dazed by the look of you beneath him, your clothes torn asunder and face flushed hot, but he remembers enough to piece together how he got here. He might almost feel guilt coming up, but the outline of your chest straining against your shirt as you attempt to catch your breath distracts him enough from it.

“Cody, what happened out there?” Your sentence is chopped by harsh breathes, and Cody is the same.

“I… I don’t really know. There was the forest, then a tripped over some odd smelling plant and I…”

He takes in a deep breath, sighs; And gives up on finishing his sentence, feeling his cock still deep inside of you.

“Gods, I want to fuck you again.”

He mumbles it against your lips, you both feeling the heat coming from the other’s skin. Whatever overtook him is faded slightly, but he still feels like he needs more and more.

“Ok, one more.”

[meshla-cyarika]

[wanderer-six]

THE GALA - A Clone Dating Sim

You are a Jedi General. The Council has assigned you a very important mission: the infiltration of a Separatist gala on Raxus. But you will not be going alone--you are allowed to bring a date on this adventure. In the heart of enemy territory, who will you count on to watch your back?

PLAY HERE: THE GALA

Ideal play experience is on desktop! (I think you can play on mobile it just looks a lil yuccy)

Clone bbs x Fem!Jedi player FEATURED CLONES: Sergeant Hunter, Tech, Crosshair, Wrecker, Captain Rex, Commander Wolffe, and ARC Twins Fives & Echo

RATING: 18+ MINORS DNI - The paths can be SFW or NSFW depending on your choices (2nd option is always the NSFW one!) - general warning for smut if you make those choices, more specifics below the cut!

Additional (less relevant) info beneath the cut!

HAPPY MAY 4TH! ENJOY MY LOVES~~

COMPREHENSIVE WARNINGS LIST: In general, lots of flirting, innuendo, pet names. Established relationship for all

Hunter: LOTS of flirting (he is a whore), p in v sex

Tech: Oral (f receiving)

Crosshair: Fingering

Wrecker: Not much for him honestly, implied canoodling (p in v), oblivious boy ♥

Captain Rex: dirty talk, praise, oral (m! Receiving)

Commander Wolffe: rough! p in v

Fives & Echo: Multiple clones (no clonec*st), lots of flirting, Echo is self conscious!

-ART ASSETS I drew all of the Clone art! I found the most nakedest screencap I could of any of them (SURPRISINGLY DIFFICULT) and then traced the base, then looked for Star Wars Male Fashion (WAY FUCKING HARDER) to draw on them and dress them up! I think for Hunter and Fives/Echo I just went crazy but for all the rest lmk if u can spot who I stole the outfits from, i deadass dont remember at this point For Background art I found them all on google images - from what I recall, it's mostly concept art and screenshots from games! -ENGINE I made this in Twine, an incredible tool for making text-based games! I highly recommend looking into it. It's really easy to use and there are a ton of tutorials online!

AN: Thank you so much for playing! Please let me know what you think, I had so much fun making this✨✨ it is so phenomenally cringe but I hope you all enjoy ♥ (also if you spot any bugs or typos, please feel free to let me know and I will fix!!)

TELL ME YOUR FAVORITE PATH I like Rex Crosshair Wrecker the best I think

"""taglist""" - @shinyshayminflower @starrylothcat @pb-jellybeans @jediknightjana

[foxgirl95]

I’m just gonna put this here cause I feel like I never hear people talk about this and they should 😍

[lukeslights4ber]

idk if anyone has done this for anakin already

[jetii]

Always

Pairing: Hunter x Jedi!Reader / Hunter x fem!Reader

Words: 16,083

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, hurt/comfort, forbidden relationship, a very heartfelt reunion, Hunter is a crier no I won't be accepting any criticism, smut, unprotected sex, oral (f receiving), fingering, nipple play, marking, primal kink, scent kink?, breeding kink

Summary: Months after you went into hiding, Hunter hasn't stopped hoping, waiting for the day when you can finally be together again. Now that it's here, and there's no reason to hide his feelings for you anymore, he can't help but be a little overwhelmed.

A/N: I'm sure no one believes me at this point but I had no intention of writing this much. I was possessed by the spirit of romance, true love, etc. etc. Anyway, please enjoy some very soft, very protective, very affectionate Hunter. Thank you so much to @dindjarins1ut for the prompt!

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Hunter is nervous.

He tries his best to hide it, keeping to himself while Tech and Echo bicker in the cockpit, but he can't ignore the butterflies in his stomach, nor the clammy hands threatening to soak through his gloves. It's ridiculous. He's faced off against far worse than this. He shouldn't be getting worked up over something so small.

But it isn't really small, not when you think about it. He hasn’t seen you in months. No comms, no messages. Nothing. He knows you’re alive, and even that was a miracle. The last words he said to you were in person, when you were standing right in front of him and he told you he loved you, and he'd kissed you and then left with the promise to come back as soon as he could.

That was before the Republic fell, and every Jedi across the galaxy was marked for death. Before the purge and the Empire's reign began. Before you were forced to go into hiding on your own.

And he hasn't spoken to you since.

You haven't seen each other in months, and Hunter is terrified that the feelings aren't mutual anymore. That you've grown apart during your time away, and what he had thought was love, you now see as nothing more than a fling. He's scared you'll look at him differently, scared you won't look at him at all.

He doesn't know what he'll do if you don’t want him anymore. If he loses the best thing that's ever happened to him.

It's stupid, Hunter knows that, because even if you don't love him the same way you used to, you'll still be friends. He should just be happy you're alive and not worrying about something so trivial as his emotions, but he can't help it. He can't shake the feeling, and it's eating him up inside.

A hand settles on his shoulder, and he jumps.

Hunter hasn’t been startled like that in ages, not since he was a cadet, but here he is, nearly falling out of his seat at the sudden contact. It takes him a moment to get over his shock, his heart pounding, before he looks up to see Wrecker looking down at him with a frown.

"Hey, we're almost there," Wrecker says, his voice uncharacteristically soft, and Hunter swallows the lump in his throat.

"I'm fine," he says, but it comes out rough. He clears his throat, tries again. "I'm fine."

Wrecker’s eyebrows raise, and Hunter realizes a moment too late Wrecker never asked how he was doing. But his brother doesn't call him out on it, only gives him a look, one that Hunter recognizes as his attempt to look serious.

“You sure?”

"Yeah," Hunter replies automatically. He can feel the anxiety creeping into his gut, and he pushes it down, looking away. "Why wouldn’t I be?”

"I dunno," Wrecker shrugs, leaning back against the bulkhead. "You've been real tense all day."

Hunter sighs. He should have known Wrecker would notice something was wrong, even if the others hadn't. He'd always been perceptive, despite what people thought of him, and Hunter’s never been able to get away with hiding his feelings, not even when they were kids.

"I just..." he hesitates, wondering how to explain his feelings without making himself seem pathetic. Wrecker might not care, but Hunter still has his pride. He still has the strong desire to protect you, to keep you secret and safe. He knows Wrecker would never betray his trust, but still, he doesn't want to admit how anxious he's been, or how much the anticipation is killing him.

"It's nothing," Hunter decides. He turns back to look out the viewport through the doors of the cockpit. They’ll be landing in a few minutes, and he doesn't want to miss the moment you step into view. "Just... worried, is all."

"What for?"

"I..."

He can't say it, can't get the words past his lips, but the hand on his shoulder squeezes gently, and the unspoken encouragement makes the admission easier.

"It's been a long time," Hunter says finally, and the rest comes tumbling out of him, unable to be held back anymore, “We haven’t seen her in months, Wrecker. What if she's... I don’t know. Things have changed, is all. For her. For us."

"So?" Wrecker scoffs, and his dismissal of the problem only makes Hunter feel worse. He scowls, glaring up at his brother.

"So," he echoes, trying to sound stern, but he can't even bring himself to look mad, not really. His shoulders slump, the fight leaving him, and he looks away. "It might not be the same anymore."

For a moment, the silence is deafening, but then Wrecker lets out a laugh, loud enough to echo throughout the ship, and Hunter bristles, his eyes darting to the cockpit. Tech and Echo are still arguing about the finer details of landing, but he doesn't doubt they can hear every word they're saying.

"What?" Hunter snaps, glaring at his brother, but Wrecker only laughs harder.

"I'm pretty sure she won't have changed that much," he says, nudging Hunter's shoulder hard enough to make him sway. "I bet she's gonna be so happy to see us, she'll probably forget how to talk. Just like last time."

Hunter huffs, but he can't help the twitch of his lips at the memory of your first meeting, of how nervous you'd been, unable to string two words together without stumbling over your own tongue. You always did tend to trip over your own words when you were flustered. 

You had been rendered speechless after he'd told you about his feelings for you, your face flushed red, mouth hanging open in surprise, and he hadn't been able to keep from grinning at your reaction. You couldn’t form a single sentence until after you'd kissed him, and by then, it was his turn to be caught off guard.

He can remember the look on your face like it was yesterday, and the thought of seeing you again, of seeing your eyes light up as you smile up at him, fills him with a familiar warmth. He wants so badly to believe that your reunion will go well, that things haven't changed and that your relationship is the same, but a part of him, the pessimistic part that's kept him alive all these years, knows that it can't possibly be true. 

And Wrecker has no idea what you mean to him, because Hunter has never told him, has never told any of them. You're his secret, his one solace in the galaxy, the one thing he keeps from his brothers, the only thing he's ever wanted that's completely his.

And you were taken from him.

It hurts just thinking about it, knowing you were alone, afraid, with no one to turn to for help, while Hunter was hundreds of thousands of parsecs away. They'd spent weeks trying to find you after the Empire was established, scouring the holonet and every contact he could find, but it was like you had fallen off the face of the galaxy.

Hunter had never felt so helpless in his life.

So yes, he's a little scared of how this is going to play out. You were taken from him once, and it broke his heart. He's terrified that if you don't want him anymore, he won't survive losing you a second time.

"Yeah," Hunter murmurs, glancing out the window. Your home planet is starting to take shape in the viewport, the blue and green and brown and white all blending together. "You're probably right."

Wrecker chuckles, patting his shoulder.

"You know I am," Wrecker says cheerfully, and then he's walking away, back towards the cockpit to interrupt the debate Tech and Echo are having.

Hunter stares after him, not sure if he should be offended by the comment or not. He chooses not to dwell on it, pushing himself out of his chair to follow his brother. Tech spares them a quick glance, rolling his eyes when he sees Wrecker is already pushing his way into his space.

"Would you mind," he grumbles, elbowing the bigger clone, but Wrecker is unfazed, squeezing into the small space behind Tech's chair.

"Nah," he says, grinning down at him.

"Then could you at least wait until we've landed?"

"Where's the fun in that?"

"It would certainly make things less complicated."

"Guys, come on," Echo groans, his head hitting the back of his seat. "We're almost there."

"And what a relief that will be," Tech grumbles, pushing his goggles up his nose, and he looks at Hunter, his brow raised. "What is the matter with you?"

"Nothing," Hunter says, but he's a little too fast to reply, and Tech doesn't buy it. His gaze turns suspicious, but he doesn't push. Instead, he shoves Wrecker's hands away from the controls and starts his descent, taking the ship down in a controlled spiral towards the planet's surface.

Omega drops into the seat beside him and secures her restraints, and Hunter follows suit, though he can't help the nervous energy building in his limbs. He can't keep still, his fingers tapping an unsteady rhythm against his thigh, and when Omega's small hand covers his, he startles.

"Are you excited?" she asks him, and Hunter hesitates for a moment before he nods.

"Yeah, kid," he answers, and it's not a lie. Not really. He is excited, in his own way. "I'm glad we get to see her."

"Me too," Omega smiles as she pulls her hand away, and she turns to watch the clouds disappear as they sink below the atmosphere. "I can't wait to meet her."

"She's gonna love you," Wrecker says, his arms braced on Tech's chair. "You're gonna love her, too. She's real nice."

"Really?"

"Oh, yeah," Hunter replies, leaning back in his seat. He can't keep the fondness out of his voice when he speaks, the memory of your laugh echoing in his head. "She's one of a kind."

Tech glances over his shoulder. "It has been some time since we last saw her," he says, and Hunter feels his heart stutter in his chest. He knows Tech doesn't mean anything by it, but he can't help but hear the implication in his words.

It's been a long time, and people change.

"Well," Echo says, turning in his seat to grin at Hunter. "Let's hope she hasn't forgotten all about us."

Hunter swallows the lump in his throat and forces a smile, nodding along with the rest of them, but he can't ignore the pit in his stomach. He wants so desperately to believe they're right, that your reunion will go well and it won't be awkward, that everything will be just like it used to, but no matter how hard he tries, he can't shake the feeling.

"It'll be... nice, to see her again," Tech says. "Even if it has been awhile."

"Aw, you missed her too, huh?" Wrecker grins, clapping a hand on Tech's shoulder, who swats him away irritably.

"She was a competent general, and she is a valuable ally," Tech replies, adjusting his goggles. "I didn't say I missed her. Simply that it will be nice to see her."

"It's okay to admit you like her, you know," Echo teases. "We won't tell anyone."

Tech shoots him a glare, but he doesn't say anything. He's focused on the descent now, the ground growing closer and closer, and when they break through the cloud cover, the land below them comes into focus.

Hunter leans forward in his seat, eyes straining against the sun. You live on a small colony in the southern hemisphere, surrounded by a large forest. It's isolated, and perfect for someone trying to lay low, but it's also a bit difficult to find, and Hunter doesn't spot your house until they're nearly on top of it.

It's small, a cabin tucked neatly among the trees, with a yard and a path that leads to a dock down by the lake. There's a ship parked outside, a tiny thing, and Tech guides the Marauder down beside it.

"There she is!" Wrecker booms, pointing out the viewport. Hunter stands up, ignoring the nausea building in his stomach, and scans the house.

And there you are.

You're sitting on the porch, a datapad in your lap, and you glance up with a hand shielding your eyes. It's impossible to make out your expression, but when the Marauder slows to land, you're already standing and hurrying down the dirt path towards them.

It's been so long since he's seen you, and even though he knows your face, has it memorized and replayed in his head so many times it's burned into his mind, the sight of you is enough to knock the wind out of him. You're smiling, waving up at the ship, and you look so happy that he can't stop himself from mirroring your expression.

You're here.

Hunter has dreamed of this moment for months, the day he gets to see you again, and the reality of it is even better than he'd hoped. He's barely aware of his feet moving, taking him towards the hatch as soon as the ship has touched down.

"Hunter?" Wrecker's voice is far away, barely registering in Hunter's mind as he practically runs towards the exit. "You okay?"

"Fine," he calls over his shoulder, his hand slamming into the button. The door hisses as it slides open, and a rush of warm, fresh air washes over him. The second his feet hit the ground, he's moving, his legs carrying him as fast as he can.

"Hey!" Wrecker shouts, but Hunter doesn't answer. He's halfway down the path, his eyes locked on your figure as you hurry towards him, and when you're close enough to touch, he's pulling you into his arms.

Your hands slide around his neck, fingers tangling in his hair as he crushes you to his chest. He doesn't realize he's crying until he hears you whisper his name, but then you're laughing, soft and beautiful, and all he can do is hold you tighter, your scent enveloping him as he breathes you in. He can't keep himself from pressing his lips to the skin behind your ear, needing to feel the warmth of you, the solidness, the realness of you here, alive, with him.

"Hunter," you whisper, and his name has never sounded so sweet. Your voice, your hands, the sound of your breath as it ghosts across his skin, the way you say his name. All of it is like a balm to his soul, soothing his worry, and for a moment, everything feels right again.

Hunter lifts his head and cups your cheeks in his hands, forcing you to look at him, and you do.

Your eyes are shining, tears brimming along the edges, and when you blink, they spill over. He thumbs them away, smiling so wide his cheeks ache.

"Hi," he whispers. You laugh, a sob escaping with it, and he feels his heart soar at the sound.

"Hi," you say back, and then you're surging forward, capturing his lips with yours.

It's a desperate kiss, the kind that says how much you've missed each other, how afraid you were of never seeing the other again. It's the first kiss you've shared in months, and it's the best damn kiss Hunter's ever had. The world narrows down to just the two of you, and nothing else exists, not the trees or the ship or his family watching from the hatch, their jaws hanging open.

It's just him and you, finally, blissfully, reunited.

He kisses you hard, and you return the pressure, clutching him close. His arms slip around your waist, lifting you off the ground for a moment, and you gasp against his mouth, laughing when he sets you down again.

"Miss me?" you ask, a teasing note to your voice, and Hunter pulls back just enough to meet your eyes.

"Yeah," he replies, and then he's kissing you again, softer this time. Gentler. His lips move against yours, slow and deliberate, and your fingers tighten their grip in his hair. 

He doesn't know how long it's been since he's started kissed you, or how long you've been kissing him, but it doesn't matter. It's not enough, could never be enough. He needs more of you, needs every part of you pressed against him, so close he can feel your heartbeat.

You hum, your hand moving to cup the back of his head, and the kiss deepens. Hunter's hands drift, sliding down the curve of your spine until his palms are pressed flat against the small of your back, and he pulls you closer. Your body molds to his perfectly, and you're warm and soft and so unbelievably real, and he never wants to let you go.

"Uh..."

The sudden intrusion startles him, and he pulls away from the kiss with a jerk, looking over his shoulder. The rest of his squad is staring at him, dumbfounded, and he can't keep the blush from creeping up his neck.

"Uh," he repeats, his face flushing. "Hey."

Wrecker's jaw is hanging open, and so is Tech's. Hunter doesn't think he's ever seen either of his brothers at a loss for words.

"We, uh..." Hunter clears his throat, glancing back at you. Your cheeks are flushed, lips swollen from the kiss, but you're grinning up at him, your eyes dancing. You give him a little nod, a silent permission to tell them the truth, and his heart flutters. "We were going to tell you, but things... got in the way."

Wrecker is the first to recover, his surprise shifting into a massive smile.

"I knew it!" he yells, pumping his fist in the air. "I told ya, didn't I? Didn't I?"

"That you did," Tech replies. His mouth is still open, but he closes it quickly, pushing his goggles up his nose before reaching up to scratch the back of his head. "Well, this is... certainly unexpected."

"That's an understatement," Echo mutters. He glances at Hunter, his brow raised. "So, how long has this been going on?"

"Uh..." Hunter's eyes dart to you, but you only smile at him. He swallows the lump in his throat and takes a deep breath. "It's been a couple years."

"A couple years?"

"Yeah."

"Years," Echo repeats. "Right. Okay."

"You could have told us," Tech says. He's looking at Hunter now, his face impassive, but Hunter can read the hurt in his eyes hidden behind the mask of indifference. "We wouldn't have betrayed your trust."

"I know," Hunter sighs, running a hand over his head. "We just... we wanted to keep it quiet."

"It was my idea," you say, and Hunter's surprised to see you look guilty. Your eyes are fixed on the ground, and he watches the way your bottom lip wobbles before you suck it into your mouth. You look up at him through your lashes, and he offers you a reassuring smile. You return it, but it's hesitant. "The Order's views on attachment were... a little different, to say the least. It would have put both of us at risk if anyone found out. So we kept it secret."

"Well, now you don't have to," Wrecker grins.

"No, I suppose not," you reply, smiling at him, but there's a sadness to your expression that makes Hunter's chest tighten. He can only imagine how difficult the last few months have been for you, what it's like to be in hiding, constantly looking over your shoulder. His arms ache to wrap around you again, to pull you into his chest and hold you close, to protect you from everything and everyone.

But he can't.

The Empire is everywhere, always watching. The war might be over, but the danger isn't gone, not yet. Not for him, and not for you.

"Can I come out now?" a voice voice drifts from the ship, and Hunter looks up, surprised. His eyes land on Omega, her arms crossed over her chest. She looks irritated, a frown pulling at her lips, and he chuckles.

"Yeah, kid," he says, nodding his head towards the ramp. "Come on."

Omega wastes no time in running out of the ship, her irritation forgotten in her excitement. She skids to a stop a few feet away, her eyes wide as she stares at you. You kneel down, a warm smile spreading across your face, and Hunter feels his heart squeeze in his chest.

"Hey," you say softly. "You must be Omega. I've heard a lot about you."

Omega steps forward, holding her hand out for you to shake, and you take it.

"Nice to meet you," she says politely.

"And you," you reply, giving her hand a gentle squeeze before letting go. Your eyes are soft as you study her face, a fondness to your expression that Hunter's only seen a few times.

He knows how much you love children. The Order never allowed its members to have families, but that hasn't stopped you from falling in love with kids everywhere you go. He's seen the way your eyes light up when you're around them, how gently you speak to them, like they're the most important people in the galaxy. 

He knows it's just the way you are, but sometimes, he wonders if it's something more. If maybe, someday, you'd want to have kids of your own.

And the thought terrifies him.

Not because he doesn't want a family with you, but because the world is changing, and he's not sure there's any place for it. You're in hiding, and he's a traitor to the Republic. How would it ever work?

He knows you wouldn't care about the dangers, though. You'd risk everything for a chance at a normal life, a family, and while he'd give anything for that too, he doesn't think he can allow himself to get his hopes up.

Not now. Not yet.

He's lost in thought, his gaze drifting to the trees surrounding the house, when a tug on his arm brings him back. You're looking up at him, an eyebrow raised, and when he blinks, you roll your eyes, a fond smile twitching at your lips.

"Sorry," he murmurs. "What did you say?"

"I was asking how long you're staying," you repeat, but he can tell by the look on your face you know what's going on in his head. You're giving him a moment to compose himself, a distraction to keep him from slipping into another spiral.

It's a common occurrence these days.

"Well," Hunter starts, glancing at the rest of his team. "We're kind of... between jobs, right now."

"That's putting it lightly," Echo scoffs.

"So we figured we could use a little vacation," Hunter finishes. He looks back at you. "If you'll have us."

"Of course I will," you smile, and Hunter doesn't miss the way your shoulders relax, the relief in your eyes. "Stay as long as you want."

"We don't want to intrude," Hunter says, his gaze softening. "If you need some space, we understand. We can—"

"Don't be ridiculous," you huff, nudging his shoulder. "I'd love to have you."

"Really?"

"Yeah, of course," you nod, glancing at the others. "All of you."

"Good," Hunter breathes, unable to keep the sigh of relief from escaping his lips. "I didn't really wanna leave anyway."

"Good," you say, leaning into his side. You rest your head against his shoulder, and Hunter's arm wraps around you almost automatically, pulling you against him. "I've missed you."

"Yeah," Hunter says softly. "Me too."

"Oh, yeah," Wrecker grins. "He hasn't shut up about you."

"Wrecker," Hunter hisses.

"No, really," Tech nods, adjusting his goggles. "Ever since we lost contact, he hasn't stopped talking about you."

"Not that he wasn't always talking about her," Echo teases.

"Hey," Hunter protests, but he can feel his cheeks burning, and he knows the blush is starting to creep up his neck. You're smiling, a knowing glint in your eye as you glance up at him, and Hunter rolls his eyes. "They're exaggerating."

"We are not," Tech says, frowning at him.

"Maybe not," Echo smirks, his gaze settling on you. "But now we know why he's been so weird about seeing you again."

"He's been weird?" you ask. You're trying to hold back a laugh, but Hunter can see the mirth in your eyes.

"He hasn't stopped pacing for days."

"He nearly fell over his own feet trying to get off the ship."

"Oh, yeah, he was nervous all right," Wrecker chuckles, crossing his arms over his chest. "Never seen him like that before. I was startin' to get worried."

"Guys," Hunter grumbles. "Come on."

"Well," you smile, patting his chest. "I'm glad you came. All of you."

"Us too," Omega says. Her face is scrunched up, like she's trying not to laugh. "Hunter was so nervous he forgot how to breathe."

"Alright, that's enough," Hunter huffs. He can feel his ears burning, and he shoots Omega a pointed look. "Everyone, inside."

"Aw, but—"

"Now," Hunter snaps, cutting Wrecker off. He's not mad, not really, but he can't help the embarrassment. "We'll be there in a minute."

Wrecker opens his mouth to protest, but Echo nudges him, nodding his head towards the house. Tech doesn't wait for either of them, heading inside without another word, and Wrecker reluctantly follows after him, grumbling under his breath. Omega casts one last look over her shoulder, waving at you before disappearing inside.

The silence that settles over the two of you is heavy, and Hunter lets out a long breath. He runs a hand over his hair, avoiding your eyes.

"I can't believe they told you that," he mutters, but he can feel your gaze on him, the smile in your eyes, and his irritation fades.

"They're only teasing," you say, resting a hand on his cheek. You brush your thumb over his skin, and he closes his eyes, letting out a shaky breath. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah," he replies, opening his eyes to look at you. Your smile is soft, gentle, and he melts under your gaze. "Just a little overwhelmed."

"Me too," you chuckle, dropping your hand. He quickly grabs it, pulling it to his chest, and your expression shifts. "I've been so worried, Hunter. I thought..."

"I know," he whispers. His grip tightens on your hand. "I've missed you so much."

"I missed you too," you whisper back. Your voice wavers, and Hunter tugs on your arm, bringing you closer.

"I'm here now," he murmurs, tilting his head down. "I'm not going anywhere, I promise."

You nod, but the fear is still shining in your eyes. He knows that feeling all too well, the uncertainty, the constant worry, the doubt. And it's hard to believe him, he knows, when the past few months have been nothing but fear and anxiety. But he's determined to make it better, to do whatever it takes to ease your mind, even if it's just for a little while.

He leans forward, pressing his forehead to yours, and the contact makes you sigh.

"I'm gonna take care of you," he says softly, bringing a hand up to cup your cheek. He strokes the skin with his thumb, his fingers gentle, and his heart stutters in his chest at the way your eyes flutter closed. "You don't have to worry anymore. I'll make sure nothing happens to you, I promise."

"You don't have to—"

"I know," he cuts you off, brushing his nose against yours. "But I'm going to. We're gonna protect you, sweetheart. All of us."

"Thank you," you whisper, opening your eyes. He's startled by the emotion swimming in your gaze, the tears pooling along the edges, and the sight breaks his heart. “But I can’t put you guys in danger. The Empire—”

"The Empire won't do anything," he assures you. "You're safe. We'll keep you safe."

"But what if—"

"Listen," he murmurs, stroking his thumb over your cheek. You suck your lip into your mouth, chewing on the flesh, and he gently pries it from your teeth. "None of that. I won't let anything happen to you. Neither will they. You're part of the team, and we take care of our own. No matter what."

"You don't have to do this, Hunter."

"I know," he says, his voice low. He doesn't want to push, doesn't want to force you to come with them, but he needs you to believe him. Needs you to understand. "But I want to. Please. Let me take care of you. It'll be good for all of us."

You're quiet for a moment, your brow furrowed, but then you let out a soft sigh, your shoulders slumping, and your eyes drop to the ground.

"Okay," you whisper. "Okay."

"Hey," Hunter says. His free hand tilts your chin up, forcing you to look at him. "Trust me, alright? You're safe now."

You nod, but you don't look convinced. He sighs, leaning forward until his lips brush against yours, featherlight, barely there.

"We can talk more later," he murmurs. He's desperate to kiss you again, his whole body aching for it, but he doesn't want to rush you. He's willing to wait, no matter how badly he wants you. "If you're okay with it."

"Yes," you breathe, your hands coming up to clutch at his armor, and you press a soft kiss to his jaw. "I'd like that."

He lets out a shaky breath, fighting the urge to press his hips into yours, but then your hands slide up over his shoulders to tangle in his hair, and he groans. You chuckle, a sweet, breathy sound that has his blood singing, and Hunter's restraint crumbles.

He kisses you, slow and deliberate, and his hands are moving on their own. He lifts you into his arms, and you wrap your legs around his waist, pulling him closer. You're pliant under his touch, letting him guide the kiss, and he licks at your lips, begging for entrance. You give it easily, and his tongue sweeps into your mouth, curling against yours.

His hips press against yours, and your body is hot against him, so soft and perfect. You taste so good, and feel even better, and the sounds you're making, the little whines and gasps, are driving him crazy.

"I'm not letting you out of my sight," he murmurs, pulling away from the kiss. He's breathing hard, his pulse thrumming, and he can't keep the smirk off his face. You look beautiful, flushed and breathless, and his desire spikes when your fingers tug at his hair.

"Fine with me," you smile.

"Good." He kisses you again, deep and slow, and his hands drift lower. "I've got a lot of time to make up for."

"Mmm," you hum, your head falling back. Hunter can't resist the urge to kiss your throat, his teeth grazing over the delicate skin, and you shudder. A breathy moan falls from your lips, soft and quiet, but Hunter hears it. He always does.

"Fuck," he growls. "You sound so pretty."

"Hunter," you sigh. His name is the sweetest thing he's ever heard, and he has to fight the urge to take you right then and there.

"We should go inside," he murmurs, brushing his lips over the shell of your ear.

"Mmhmm," you reply. You're nuzzling his neck, your hot breath sending shivers down his spine, and his hold on you tightens.

"Sweetheart," he groans. "I can't think straight when you do that."

"That's the idea."

"Come on," he says. He's reluctant to put you down, but he does, his hands lingering on your waist for a moment.

You look at him, your eyes bright, and your smile makes his chest ache. He wants so badly to stay with you, to pull you into his lap and bury himself in your warmth, to have the freedom to kiss you, touch you, love you, without having to worry about getting caught. He's never been able to do that before, always keeping you a secret, always worried about being found out, but the Order doesn't exist anymore, and now he has the chance.

And he's going to take it.

He's not going to hide his feelings anymore. You deserve more than that.

You reach up and touch his cheek, the gentle gesture enough to calm his racing heart.

"Let's go," you say, your thumb stroking over his skin. "Before they get suspicious."

"I'm pretty sure they're already suspicious," he chuckles, glancing towards the house.

"It's a little obvious, isn't it?"

"Yeah," he admits, his face heating up. "A little."

You laugh, taking his hand in yours. You're leading him towards the door, but he stops, giving you a gentle tug.

"Hey," he murmurs, waiting for you to turn around. You do, a small smile tugging at your lips, and he can't help the way his eyes dart down to your mouth, the memory of your kiss sending a thrill down his spine.

"What?"

"I love you," he whispers. He's not sure why he says it. You know how he feels, you've known it for a long time, but something about it feels different, now. Like it means more than it did before.

Maybe it does.

Your expression softens, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards, and he can see the happiness in your eyes, the fondness. It's a look he's familiar with, one he's seen many times, but the knowledge that he can see it as much as he wants now, without having to hide or sneak around, makes his heart flutter in his chest.

"I love you, too," you whisper, a smile spreading across your face.

"Come here," he says. You're in his arms again before you can say a word, his mouth finding yours, and you're melting into his touch, the kiss deepening, turning desperate. He has to pull away before his brain completely shuts down, and when he does, he rests his forehead against yours, breathing heavily.

"Later," he promises, his voice a rasp.

"Later," you agree.

He lets out a long breath, nodding his head once before stepping back. His hand slides down to rest at the small of your back, and he gives you a gentle nudge, nodding towards the house. You smile, reaching up to straighten his bandana, and Hunter can't help but chuckle at the action.

"Lead the way," you say.

"Always," he grins, and then you're walking up the path, the warmth of the sun enveloping you as you step onto the porch.

The door slides open before Hunter can even reach for the panel, Wrecker's smiling face poking out.

"Oh, good," he says, looking at the two of you. "I was beginning to think you'd forgotten about us."

"Of course not," you reply.

Wrecker's grin widens, and then he's stepping aside, his arm sweeping towards the inside of the house.

"After you, General."

"Thanks," you smile, nodding your head in appreciation. Hunter follows behind, his hand hovering at the base of your spine. Wrecker doesn't miss the movement, his eyebrows shooting up, but he doesn't say anything. He just watches, a knowing look in his eyes, and Hunter rolls his own.

"Not a word," he warns.

"Wasn't gonna say anything," Wrecker smirks, his gaze flickering to the hand resting on your back. "Not sure I need to."

"Don't start," Hunter sighs. He slows to a stop, crossing his arms over his chest, and you keep walking, a laugh spilling from your lips as you head towards the kitchen.

"Hey," Wrecker raises his hands in surrender, but the grin doesn't fade. "I'm happy for you. Both of you."

Hunter blinks. "Thanks," he says slowly.

"I mean it." Wrecker smiles. He claps a hand on Hunter's shoulder, a silent confirmation of his words, and Hunter returns the gesture. "You two deserve each other."

"Yeah," Hunter says, looking over at you. You're already in the kitchen, Tech at your side, and the two of you are talking rapidly at each other with Omega sitting on the counter between you. Tech's arms are waving wildly, a datapad gripped tightly in his hands, and you're grinning at him, the excitement obvious on your face. Echo is stirring a pot of something, the delicious smell of dinner drifting through the house, and he chimes in every now and then, his smile growing wider each time.

Omega glances up at him, and she gives him a little wave, her grin so wide her cheeks must ache. Hunter smiles back, his heart swelling, and he can't help but think, maybe everything is going to be alright.

You look so at home with his family, like you've always been a part of it, like you've always belonged there. And maybe you have. Maybe, this was where you were supposed to end up all along.

It's funny, how things work out sometimes. How, even after losing so much, even after having nearly everything taken from him, he somehow still managed to find something good.

"I guess we do,” Hunter finally replies, his gaze settling on you. He can't tear his eyes away, can't stop looking at the way the setting sun dances over your face, lighting you up in the most beautiful glow, the way your smile makes his heart beat faster.

Wrecker follows his gaze, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. "So, does this mean she agreed to stay with us?"

"Yeah," Hunter sighs, unable to keep the smile off his face. "Yeah, she is."

"Good," Wrecker says. His smile widens. "That's good."

"It's going to be hard, keeping things quiet," Hunter says, glancing at his brother. "We've got a target on our backs, and I'm not sure how much longer we can hide. The Empire will find us eventually, and when they do—"

"It's okay," Wrecker interrupts, holding his hand up. "I know. But it's worth it, right? To keep her safe? And Omega?”

"Yeah," Hunter says without hesitation. "It is."

"Then we'll do whatever we have to," Wrecker replies. He nods towards the kitchen. "They'll understand. ‘Sides, Omega's gotta have a mom at some point. Might as well be her."

Hunter's breath catches, his chest tightening. "Wrecker—"

"You're happy," he continues, ignoring Hunter's protest. "You haven't been happy since... well, not since I can remember. And she makes you happy. And she's good with the kid, too. I can see how much she loves you, and how much you love her. So, what's the problem?"

Hunter stares at him, the surprise clear on his face.

"I, uh... nothing. There's no problem," he stammers, his brow furrowing.

"Good," Wrecker grins. He nudges him with his elbow, giving him a wink. "She's good for you, Sarge. And we're not gonna let anyone take that away from you. No matter what happens."

"Thanks," Hunter replies. He swallows the lump in his throat and blinks back the sudden moisture in his eyes. Wrecker squeezes his shoulder, smiling down at him, and Hunter takes a shaky breath.

"Don't mention it," Wrecker says. "Come on. I‘m starving."

"You're always hungry."

"Well, yeah," he scoffs. "We gotta keep our strength up, right? Especially if we're gonna be fighting off Imperials."

He mimes a punch, his fist slamming into his palm, and Hunter chuckles.

"Yeah, alright," he agrees. "Let's go eat."

The two of them walk into the kitchen, Wrecker immediately making a beeline for the pot Echo is stirring, and Hunter makes his way over to where you're standing with Tech.

He stands beside you, close enough for his arm to brush against yours, but he doesn't touch you. He keeps his hands at his sides, his fingers curling into his palms, but the desire to wrap his arms around you is overwhelming.

He knows you'll let him, but it's only been a few hours, and he's afraid if he touches you again, he won't be able to stop.

Tech is explaining something to you, his hands moving rapidly as he talks, and Hunter watches, his head tilted to the side. He's only half listening to what his brother is saying, but he's content to just watch the two of you interact. You're so invested in the conversation, asking questions, listening intently as Tech answers, and Hunter can't help but smile at the sight.

"So, what do you think?"

Tech's voice startles him out of his thoughts, and he shakes his head, forcing his attention back to the present.

"Uh... sorry," he mutters, glancing at you. "What was that?"

“Tech wants to gut my ship for parts like a bantha carcass," you huff. You're smirking at him, amusement shining in your eyes. "He's trying to convince me to let him take it apart."

"It's not as though we have much use for it," Tech argues. "And besides, it would give me something to do while we're here."

“Aren’t you all supposed to be relaxing?”

“I happen to find tinkering with electronics quite relaxing," Tech replies. "Especially old ones. And it will keep me busy, which means I won’t be pestering you. So really, you would be doing yourself a favor by allowing me to do this.”

Hunter smirks. “He’s got a point.”

“Traitor,” you mutter, nudging his shoulder.

He nudges you back, his grin widening, and you roll your eyes.

"Alright, fine," you sigh.

"Excellent," Tech smiles. He turns his attention back to the datapad in his hands, his eyes darting across the screen. “Omega, would you like to help me dismantle this ship? It will give you a chance to learn more about the components of different models."

"Sure," she nods. She jumps down from the counter, landing with a soft thud. 

Hunter watches the two of them disappear into the living room before looking at you. You're smiling softly, your head tilted to the side, and he can't stop his gaze from wandering, taking in every detail of your face.

"You're staring," you murmur. You look at him out of the corner of your eye, and the hint of a smile tugging at your lips betrays your feigned irritation.

"Can’t help it,” he replies. He reaches out, his fingers brushing against your hip. The simple touch is enough to send a spark shooting through him, a warmth blooming low in his stomach, and his grip tightens, pulling you closer.

"Hunter," you laugh, your eyes widening.

"Hmm?"

"We're not alone."

"We're not?" He arches an eyebrow. "Didn't notice."

"Hunter," you hiss, but there's no bite to your words, just a soft laugh. "Stop it."

"No," he grins, leaning forward to brush his lips over your cheek. You shiver, goosebumps erupting across your skin, and he feels a rush of pride at the reaction.

"You're impossible."

"Only because I can be," he murmurs, pressing another kiss to your cheek. You sigh, your eyelids fluttering shut, and Hunter can't resist the urge to brush his mouth over the soft skin, trailing gentle kisses down your neck. You let out a soft whine, the noise so quiet only he can hear it, and his body reacts instinctively, his hands tightening, his hips shifting closer.

"Hunter," you gasp, your voice low.

"You smell so good," he groans. His nose brushes against your throat, and he inhales deeply, breathing in the sweet scent. It sends a thrill through him, a burst of heat washing over his body, and he nuzzles the skin, his lips ghosting along the edge of your jaw.

He doesn't want to stop. He wants to keep going, wants to drag his mouth across every inch of you until there's no part untouched, until the taste of you is burned into his memory for good. But he's aware of the others in the room, and he forces himself to pull away. He puts some distance between you, enough so that he can breathe, but he can't bring himself to move too far away.

"Tonight," Hunter says, his voice rough. He glances over his shoulder, making sure the others are still distracted, before continuing, "I'm gonna take care of you."

"Mm," you nod. You look dazed, your cheeks flushed, and Hunter feels a surge of satisfaction knowing it's his fault. "You'd better."

"Oh, I will," he smirks. "All night, if you want."

You bite your lip, your eyes sparkling. "Promise?"

"I—"

"Alright, I’m no chef, but I think it’s ready," Echo calls, Wrecker already heading towards the pot with a stack of bowls. He turns around, a spoon in one hand, and Hunter catches a glimpse of a wicked smile. "If you can pry yourselves apart long enough to eat."

"We were just talking," you argue, but your face is red, and Hunter has to bite back a grin.

"Right," Echo laughs, his gaze flickering between you. "Just talking. Got it."

"Echo," Hunter warns.

"I didn't say anything," he replies innocently. He waves his spoon at the two of you, his grin widening. "You can have your little chat after dinner.”

“Enough talking,” Wrecker groans, snatching the spoon from Echo’s hand and shoving him out of the way. "Food first."

"We'll finish this later," Hunter whispers, and you nod.

"I'll hold you to that," you whisper, brushing a kiss against his cheek before you pull away, stepping towards the counter. You glance over your shoulder at him, a sly smile curling your lips, and Hunter has to force himself not to follow after you. He waits until you're busy helping Wrecker dish out the food before moving, and even then, he makes sure to keep his distance.

It's difficult.

The need to be near you is overwhelming, and he can't stand the thought of leaving you for even a moment. But he doesn't want to crowd you, either, and he has to remind himself that you're not going anywhere.

You're here, and he's here, and nothing is going to take him away from you. Not again.

The thought settles over him, calming the ache in his chest, and he finally allows himself to relax, falling into an easy rhythm with the others as the six of you gather around the table. He takes a seat next to you, his leg pressed against yours, and his arm is draped over the back of your chair, his fingers tracing idle patterns on your skin. You lean into his side, your body fitting against his like it was made to, and the warmth of you is enough to ease the last bit of tension that's been lingering beneath the surface.

The rest of the night passes in a blur. Hunter loses track of how many times his hand drifts to your side, or his fingers slip into your own, or his lips press against your temple. Every time he does it, he expects a reaction from you, a protest or an admonishment or a roll of the eyes, but each time, you simply smile, your eyes crinkling at the corners, and he finds himself doing it again, unable to stop himself.

It’s easy, familiar, like this is how it was always meant to be, and the fact that he can finally hold you without fear of getting caught is a relief that's impossible to put to words. There's no more hiding, no more sneaking around, no more worrying about being seen standing too close together or his hands lingering too long. It's freeing, not having to hide how he feels, not having to pretend like his feelings don't exist.

It's the most natural thing in the world.

And he's going to enjoy every second of it.

Eventually, the meal ends, the food vanishing into Wrecker's stomach, and Hunter helps you clean up while the others disappear outside. The setting sun guides them toward your ship with Tech in the lead, and Hunter watches them go, his eyes lingering on the door for a moment before returning to you. You're scrubbing at a pot, your brow furrowed in concentration, and he can't help the fond smile that spreads across his face. He leans against the counter, crossing his arms over his chest, content to watch you work.

"You're staring again," you mumble, not bothering to look at him.

"How did you know?"

"I can feel it," you chuckle. You set the pot aside and dry your hands before hanging up the towel. "I always know."

"It's not my fault," he says, pushing off the counter. Hunter closes the distance between the two of you, his hands resting on your hips. "You're hard to resist. And I can't keep my eyes off you."

"You're such a flatterer."

"It's not flattery if it's true."

You shake your head, a smile spreading across your face.

"What?"

"Nothing," you laugh. "Just... the way you're acting. It's kind of cute."

"Cute?" He frowns, his nose wrinkling. "I don't know about that."

"It is." Your arms snake around his neck, your fingers tangling in his hair, and you tilt your head to the side. "I'm used to the serious, stoic Hunter. I like this one, too."

"Oh, yeah?"

"Mmhmm," you hum. Your lips press against his jaw, a soft kiss that has his eyes fluttering shut, and his hands slide down to grip your thighs. He lifts you onto the counter, and your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him closer.

"Is that so?"

"Uh-huh," you nod, and you kiss him again. This time, it's lower, right where his pulse is jumping under his skin, and he groans, his eyes falling shut.

"I didn't know you liked him so much," he manages to say, his breath hitching.

"I love him," you murmur. "As much as the other one."

"Well," he chuckles. He pulls away just enough to look at you, his hands cradling your face. "I think I can live with that."

You lean forward, and he meets you halfway, his mouth finding yours.

It starts off slow, a lazy kiss, his hands moving from your face to tangle in your hair. But then your lips part, and the soft sound you make is enough to light a fire in his veins, and he's kissing you with everything he has, pouring all his emotion into it. You return it eagerly, matching him stroke for stroke, and when his tongue brushes against yours, the groan he lets out is so loud he can't even hear the others yelling outside.

It doesn't matter, anyway. Nothing does, except the two of you.

"Bedroom," you gasp, breaking the kiss. "Now."

"Yeah," he pants. He grabs your thighs, pulling you off the counter, and you wrap your legs around his waist, his arms hooking under your knees.

He doesn't say anything else. He can't. He just kisses you, his tongue sliding past your parted lips, and your nails dig into his shoulders, a desperate moan spilling from your throat.

He carries you through the house, navigating the halls blindly, too focused on kissing you to care where he's going. He nearly trips over a chair, but he manages to keep his balance, and you laugh, the sound vibrating against his mouth. He breaks the kiss long enough to shoot you a playful glare, and you beam back.

"In a hurry, are we?"

"You have no idea," he mutters. He kicks the door to your bedroom open, shutting it behind him with his foot, and strides across the room. "Been wanting this for too damn long."

"Mm," you sigh. You're kissing his neck now, your tongue lapping at his skin, and his pace quickens. He feels the softness of the mattress hit the back of his legs, and he sits, his hands shifting to cup your thighs.

"Missed you," he rasps as you settle into his lap. You're straddling him now, and the heat of you against him is driving him crazy. "Missed you so much."

"Missed you too," you whisper, and your hands are cupping his face, pulling him towards you. Your fingers trace the outline of his tattoo, your touch gentle, almost reverent. He closes his eyes, savoring the feeling, and his breath hitches as you brush your lips over his temple.

"I can't believe this is real," he admits, his voice low. "I keep thinking it's some kind of dream, that I'm gonna wake up and find myself back on the ship."

"It's not a dream," you promise. You press a kiss to his forehead, his cheek, his nose, and then, finally, his mouth. It's soft, chaste, but no less intense, and Hunter sighs, his hands sliding up to curl around your waist.

"You're really here," he whispers. "I didn't think..."

"I'm not going anywhere," you assure him, and the conviction in your voice makes his heart ache. Your forehead is resting against his, your lips barely an inch apart, and he can feel your breath ghosting across his skin. "I love you."

"I'm sorry," he breathes. "For not coming to you sooner. For not—"

"Hunter, stop," you cut him off, your fingers pressing against his mouth. He quiets instantly, his gaze locked with yours. "It's not your fault. There was nothing you could've done."

"I could've tried harder," he protests. "Could've tried to find you."

"You couldn't," you sigh, shaking your head. "You know that. I didn't want to be found. I'm not even supposed to be here. If anyone finds me, I'm as good as dead."

"I won't let that happen."

"I know," you smile. Your thumbs rub gentle circles against his cheeks, and you press a kiss to the corner of his mouth. "And I love you for it. But we can't change the past. We just have to make the most of the time we have now."

"Right," he nods. He swallows the lump in his throat, trying to push away the guilt, the anger, the regret. "I just..."

"What?"

He lets out a long breath, his shoulders slumping. "Do you ever think about what it could've been like? If we hadn't lost each other? If...things had gone differently, and the war had ended the way it was supposed to?"

"Yeah," you admit, and you give him a sad smile, the corners of your mouth twitching upwards. "Sometimes."

"Me too," Hunter whispers. He pulls you closer, burying his face in your neck. You hold him there, your arms wrapping around him, and his hands drift up to clutch at the back of your shirt. He inhales deeply, taking in the scent of you, letting it fill him up, ground him.

"Sometimes I wonder," you murmur, your voice low, "what would've happened if we'd met in a different life. If we were just people, with no obligations or duties, no expectations or responsibilities. No wars, no battles, no death. Just us."

"A life together," he mumbles, the words muffled against your skin.

"Yeah," you say, and you sigh, a wistful sound that sends a pang through his chest. "A life together."

"We'd have a place like this," he says. He glances up at you, his chin resting on your chest. "A home."

You hum in agreement, leaning down to press a kiss to his forehead. "We would."

"We'd be happy," he continues. He smiles at you, a small, sad thing, and your fingers trace the curve of his lips. "We'd have a family. Maybe even kids. And we wouldn't have to hide."

"We wouldn't," you agree, a tear slipping down your cheek. He reaches up, catching it before it can fall, and brushes his thumb over your cheekbone, wiping away the dampness.

"I would've married you," he whispers. His voice breaks on the word, and he has to pause, taking a deep breath before continuing. "If I could. I would've married you, and given you everything I had."

"Hunter," you whisper, your voice breaking.

"I'm sorry," he sighs. "I just—"

"No, no," you cut him off with a shake of your head. You kiss him again, and he melts into it, the feel of your lips against his enough to soothe the ache in his chest.

"We could still have it," he breathes, his mouth moving over your jaw, the skin so soft and warm and inviting. "We could."

"I know," you reply, and you tilt your head back, allowing him access to your neck. He nips at the sensitive skin, and you shudder, a whimper falling from your lips.

"Do you want it?" he asks, his voice low. He's not sure why he does, not sure what he wants the answer to be, but the question falls from his mouth without thought.

"More than anything," you admit, and Hunter feels his heart skip a beat.

"Then we'll make it happen," he promises. "If you'll have me."

"I already do," you whisper, and then you're kissing him again, harder this time, with more desperation, like you need to prove how much you mean it.

His hands wander, mapping out every curve, every contour, every inch of your body, and your own exploration isn't far behind, the two of you touching and caressing and stroking in a way that leaves him panting, his heart racing.

"Please," you whimper, and the sound goes straight to his cock.

"Anything," he rasps. "Whatever you want."

"I just want you."

"You have me," he breathes. "You'll always have me."

You're kissing him again, the desperation in your touch increasing with every second that passes. He feels like his entire body is on fire, like the slightest touch could set him off, and he groans into your mouth, his tongue darting out to trace the seam of your lips.

He knows what you want, and he gives it to you without hesitation, his mouth opening wide as he dips his tongue inside, his fingers digging into your hips. You gasp, and he swallows the noise, his hands gripping the fabric of your shirt.

He pulls it up and over your head, breaking the kiss for only a moment, and he takes the opportunity to drink in the sight of you, his gaze sweeping over every inch of exposed skin.

You're so beautiful, it almost hurts to look at you.

You stare back, your chest heaving, your eyes dark with lust. You're biting your lip, and his own mouth falls open, his eyes widening.

He doesn't say a word. He can't. His brain can't seem to form a coherent thought, not when you're looking at him like that, and he swallows, his eyes darting to the swell of your breasts. You're wearing a bra, but it's not much, a scrap of lace and silk that leaves nothing to the imagination. He can see the outline of your nipples, the stiff peaks pressing against the fabric, and he can't help but reach up and run his thumb over one, the contact making him shiver.

"Hunter," you whimper, your eyelids fluttering shut. He repeats the action, watching in fascination as your chest rises and falls, and he does it again, the soft whine that falls from your lips spurring him on.

"Look at you," he murmurs, his hand cupping your breast. "So perfect."

He leans down, his mouth closing over the soft mound, and he sucks gently, his tongue lapping at the hard nub through the fabric. Your back arches, a broken moan escaping your lips, and Hunter feels a rush of heat shoot through him, his cock straining against the confines of his pants.

"Fuck," he curses, his breath hot against your skin, his hands moving to undo his belt. It's a struggle, his fingers shaking, but he manages, tugging it free and tossing it to the side. As soon as it hits the ground, you're pushing his hands away, taking over, and he grins, letting you take the lead.

"Here, let me," you murmur as your fingers work to unclip his armor. He nods, sitting back on his hands and admiring the view as you remove each piece, dropping them to the floor. The way your brow furrows in concentration, the softness of your skin, the swell of your breasts as they rise and fall with every breath, the warmth of your hands, the gentleness of your touch, all of it sends another wave of heat crashing through him.

It's breathtaking, the sight of you, and Hunter can't help the pride that swells in his chest. It’s not the first time he’s felt it, the rush of joy that comes with seeing the woman he loves, but it still catches him off guard.

He wonders, briefly, if he'll ever get used to the feeling. If he ever stops being amazed by how incredible you are, how lucky he is to have found you.

"What are you thinking about?"

You're kneeling in front of him now, your hands resting on his knees, and the question startles him out of his thoughts.

"Nothing," he says, and you tilt your head to the side, giving him a knowing look. He chuckles, reaching out to cup your cheek, his thumb stroking along your jaw. "Just admiring the view."

"Oh, really?"

"Really," he replies, his gaze dropping to the exposed flesh of your chest. He can't stop himself from leaning forward, his fingers skimming along the lace, before brushing over the delicate skin of your cleavage.

"Hunter," you whimper, arching into him.

"Beautiful," he says. His eyes meet yours, a wicked grin pulling at his lips. "I can't wait to get my mouth on you."

You blush, the heat creeping up your neck, and Hunter chuckles, pulling you towards him. He wraps his arms around you, burying his face in your chest.

“But first,” he murmurs against your chest. His lips brush over your sternum, his nose skimming the tops of your breasts, and his hands find the waistband of your pants, tugging the fabric down. “I want to see all of you.”

You moan, letting him pull the material down your thighs, your eyes slipping shut as his hands glide along your legs. You step out of the clothing, them aside, and he takes the opportunity to remove his pants and shirt, tossing them into the growing pile of clothes.

You stand between his legs, staring down at him in nothing but your bra and panties, and Hunter has to take a deep breath. The sight of you is almost too much, the need coiling in his belly threatening to overwhelm him, but he manages to rein himself in.

"Gorgeous," he whispers. His hands are on your thighs, his thumbs rubbing slow circles into the sensitive flesh. "Come here."

He pulls you into his lap, guiding you to straddle his hips, and you go willingly, settling yourself onto his thighs. He presses a kiss to the hollow of your throat, his teeth grazing the skin, and you sigh, tilting your head to the side, granting him access.

"You smell so good," he murmurs. His nose traces the column of your neck, breathing in the sweet scent. It sends a thrill through him, a wave of desire surging forward, and his hips jerk involuntarily, grinding against yours. His cock is straining against the fabric of his underwear, aching for release, and he can't stop himself from groaning.

"Fuck," he rasps, his teeth scraping against your collarbone as you shift. You're moving against him, a slow roll of your hips, and Hunter can feel his restraint slipping.

"Hunter," you sigh. His mouth moves down, his lips trailing over the swell of your breast, his tongue darting out to lap at the lace covering your nipple.

"You're driving me crazy, sweetheart," he breathes, his breath hot against your skin. "The things I wanna do to you."

"What do you want to do to me?"

He can't stop the groan that escapes him. He grabs your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh, and tugs you down, grinding his clothed erection against you.

"Everything," he growls. His mouth moves along your neck, biting and sucking, leaving a trail of bruises in its wake. "Anything you want. I'd do anything for you."

"Anything?"

"Mmhm," he murmurs, nuzzling your chest. He can't stop himself from licking and sucking, the taste of your skin intoxicating. His hands are roaming up and down your sides, squeezing and caressing, and you arch into him, your body reacting to his touch.

He slides a hand down your spine, his fingers finding the clasp of your bra. He makes quick work of it, unhooking the latch and pulling the straps down your arms. You sit back, letting the fabric fall away, and he can't help but stare, his mouth hanging open.

Your nipples are hard, pebbled and straining, and he can't resist the urge to flick his tongue across one, teasing the stiff peak. You let out a whimper, your fingers tangling in his hair, and he grins, swirling his tongue around the sensitive bud.

"Oh," you gasp. Your eyes are closed, your head tipped back, and Hunter smiles against your skin. He continues his assault, licking and sucking, his teeth grazing over the stiff nub.

"Feels good, doesn't it?" he purrs. You nod, a soft moan falling from your lips. He switches to the other nipple, giving it the same attention, and you squirm in his lap, your hips rocking against his.

"Force, yes," you pant, tugging at his hair. "I missed this. Missed you."

"Me too, sweetheart," he murmurs. His hands move to cup your breasts, squeezing and kneading, and you let out a shaky breath, rolling your hips against his. "I missed touching you, kissing you, being inside you."

"Yes," you whimper. His fingers are plucking at your nipples, pinching and tugging, and you grind down on his lap, desperate for friction. "Please, Hunter."

"Don't worry," he promises. He kisses his way up your chest, along the curve of your neck, and nips at your earlobe. "I'm gonna take care of you."

"Good," you huff, wrapping your arms around his neck. "I've waited long enough."

"Too long," he agrees. He lifts his head, his gaze meeting yours. "But we've got all the time in the world."

You smile at him, cupping his face. For a moment, the two of you simply stare at each other, neither saying a word. He can see the desire in your eyes, the need shining bright, but there's something else, something deeper, and his heart swells, his chest filling with warmth.

Then, without warning, Hunter flips you over, pressing you down into the mattress. He hovers above you, his weight resting on his forearms, and he smirks when you let out a surprised squeal.

"Hunter!"

"Hmm?" he hums, dipping his head to kiss the underside of your jaw. You arch into him, a soft moan escaping you.

"What are you—mm, that feels good," you sigh, tipping your head to the side.

"What's that, sweetheart?"

"Nothing," you murmur. Your arms are draped over his shoulders, your fingers threading through his hair. He presses a kiss to your throat, his teeth scraping over the sensitive skin, and you groan. “Keep going.”

Hunter chuckles, his hands sliding up your thighs. He reaches your hips, his fingers hooking under the waistband of your underwear.

"Lift your hips for me," he says, his breath ghosting across your ear. You obey, lifting yourself up off the mattress, and Hunter pulls the fabric down your legs. He tosses it over his shoulder, not bothering to see where it lands, before turning his attention back to you.

"Perfect," he breathes.

You're spread out in front of him, completely naked, your cheeks flushed, chest heaving, and he's mesmerized. It's not the first time he's seen you like this, but it's been too long, and his memory can't compare to the real thing.

He traces a finger along your inner thigh as he settles between your legs, his hand gliding over the soft flesh, and he watches as goosebumps erupt across your skin. You're trembling, the anticipation clear in your eyes, and Hunter grins, enjoying the effect he has on you.

"Tell me what you want," he says, his fingers ghosting along your slit. He's not surprised to find you wet, the scent of your arousal thick in the air, and he inhales deeply, relishing the familiar aroma.

"I want you," you whimper, your hips bucking upwards. He places a hand on your stomach, holding you down.

"How do you want me?"

"I don't care," you pant, reaching for him. Your fingers wrap around his wrist, your nails digging into the skin, and he bites back a groan. "I just need you. Please."

"Soon," he promises. He kisses your thigh, his lips trailing over the smooth flesh. "Let me take care of you first."

"You don't have to," you insist.

"Oh, I want to," he murmurs, his mouth inches from your center. "So badly."

"Oh," you moan, your back arching as his breath ghosts over your sensitive skin. You're trembling beneath him, and Hunter can't help but smile. It's intoxicating, knowing how badly you want him, and he can't stop the pride that swells in his chest.

His tongue flicks out, teasingly brushing against your folds, and you let out a breathy sigh, your body tensing.

"Stop teasing,” you plead.

"Sorry, sweetheart," he says, though he can’t find it in him to sound apologetic. His fingers part your folds, and his tongue slides through your slick heat, circling your entrance before dragging up to flick over your clit.

"Ah, fuck," you moan as your eyes roll back. Your hands are clutching the sheets, and he grins, swirling his tongue around the bundle of nerves. You gasp, your hips jerking, and he grabs them, holding you in place as he begins to lick and suck.

He wastes no time, his tongue and lips reacquainting themselves with your folds, and the taste of you is enough to make him dizzy. It's sweet and salty, familiar and unfamiliar, and Hunter can't get enough. He buries his face in your cunt, his nose rubbing against your clit as his tongue probes your entrance.

"Oh, Hunter, yes," you pant, your hand shooting down to tangle in his hair. He grins against you at the praise, his tongue plunging inside, and you let out a strangled moan.

He eats you out with enthusiasm, his tongue exploring every inch of your pussy. He's not sure how long he spends there, his face buried between your thighs, his mouth sucking and licking at your cunt. It could be hours, or mere minutes, but he doesn't care. It's perfect, the feeling of you underneath him, the way your body writhes, the noises falling from your lips.

He fucks you with his tongue, his grip on your thighs tightening, and your back arches, a desperate whine escaping you.

"Fuck, yes, Hunter," you cry out, your legs wrapping around his head, locking him in place. He moans, his tongue plunging deeper, his fingers digging into the soft flesh. He can't stop himself, his movements becoming frantic, desperate.

He needs more, craves it. Wants to feel you come apart, to know that it's his name on your lips. That it's his touch making you lose your careful composure.

"That's it," he groans, his breath hot against your pussy. "Come on my face, sweetheart."

He's not sure if it's the words or the way he thrusts his tongue inside, curling and stroking, but something sends you over the edge, and he's rewarded with a choked cry and a gush of slick heat as you clamp down around him.

Your toes curl, your back arching off the bed, and Hunter has to hold you down, his grip tightening as his mouth continues its relentless assault. Your walls pulse around him, clenching and releasing, and he lets out a growl, his tongue pushing deeper.

"Kriff," you moan, your hands clutching at his hair, pulling and tugging. He lets out a muffled groan, his eyes slipping shut, and he savors the feeling, the taste, the smell.

The fact that it's you, that he's the one who got you here, who made you come undone, is enough to send a wave of pleasure coursing through him. It's addicting, the feeling of having you like this, and he can't help the surge of satisfaction that comes with the knowledge that no one else has ever seen you this way. And if he has his way, no one ever will.

"Force, I missed that," he says once you finally relax, your legs falling from his shoulders. He licks his lips, grinning, and wipes his chin with the back of his hand.

"Me too," you breathe, propping yourself up on your elbows. "That was incredible."

"Yeah?" he asks, crawling up your body. He plants a kiss on your sternum, moving higher until his mouth finds yours. You return his messy kiss eagerly, moaning when you taste yourself on his tongue, and he chuckles, cupping your cheek.

"Mmhm," you sigh.

"Good," he murmurs, kissing you again. His tongue probes your mouth, searching for every last drop of sweetness. You cling to him, your nails digging into his shoulders, and he grunts, his cock twitching at the feeling.

"Need you," you whisper, breaking the kiss. Your hands slip down, coming to rest on his ass. You give him a squeeze, a playful grin on your lips, and Hunter can't stop the smirk that pulls at his mouth.

"Patience, sweetheart," he says. "We've got all the time in the galaxy."

"No," you shake your head, hooking your leg around his waist. You pull him closer, the hard line of his clothed cock rubbing against your clit, and you moan, grinding against him. "I need you now."

"Kriff," he groans, his head falling forward. The heat is radiating off of you, and he can't stop himself from pushing against you, seeking relief. "Yeah, alright. But I wanna take my time with you."

"We can take our time later," you promise. You tug at his underwear, pulling the fabric down his thighs, and he kicks them off, sighing in relief as his cock springs free. A pleased noise escapes you at the sight of him, hard and straining, and your other leg wraps around him, urging him on.

"Sweetheart," he breathes, his hips rolling. His cock is trapped between the two of you, sliding through your slick folds, and the sensation is almost too much.

"Please," you beg, tilting your hips upwards. You're soaking wet, the head of his cock sliding through the mess, and it's all he can do not to sink inside you.

"Fuck," he hisses. His grip on your waist tightens, and he presses a kiss to your neck, his lips tracing a path along the curve. You moan, arching into him, and he takes the opportunity to capture your lips in another messy kiss. He can feel the desire pouring off you, the need coursing through your veins, and it's overwhelming. He doesn’t even notice your legs tightening around him, not until you flip him over, and suddenly you're on top of him, straddling his lap.

"Shit," he gasps, his eyes wide. "That was—"

"Fast?" you finish. He nods, swallowing hard, and you laugh, the sound sending a shiver down his spine. “I think you forgot what I am, Hunter."

"Never," he whispers, his hands roaming up and down your thighs. He takes in the view, his eyes trailing over the length of your body, from the flush on your cheeks to the way your breasts sway with every breath, to the glistening wetness coating your thighs and the base of his cock. "You're incredible."

"Yeah?"

"Mmhm," he hums. His gaze drifts up, meeting yours, and he smiles, the sight of you making his heart swell. "You're perfect."

"I love you," you say, and Hunter can't help the warmth that spreads through him at the words. He's heard them a hundred times before, but each time, it still feels new. Like the first time.

"I love you, too," he replies. His fingers brush over your clit, gathering the wetness, and he slides his hand down, taking himself in his fist. "Ready?"

"Yes," you breathe.

You rise up onto your knees, placing a hand on his chest for balance, and Hunter guides himself to your entrance. His cock slides between your folds, the tip nudging at your entrance, and you both moan, the sound mixing together.

Hunter has to fight to keep his eyes open, to keep his hands steady. He wants to watch as you sink down on his cock, to see the pleasure wash over you as he fills you. He knows what it feels like, to be buried inside you, and it's always been intoxicating, but now? After everything that's happened, after the fear and the pain and the longing, to have you back in his arms?

It's beyond words. Beyond comprehension.

He doesn't deserve it. Doesn't deserve you.

But he'll never stop trying.

You let out a gasp as he pushes inside, his cock stretching and filling you, and Hunter has to grit his teeth, his hands tightening on your hips. The heat is incredible, the feeling of being buried deep inside, and he groans, the sound coming from deep within his chest.

"Fucking hell, sweetheart," he grunts. His eyes are locked on where the two of you are joined, watching as you slowly slide down the length of his cock. "You're so tight."

"It's been a while," you say, your breath coming in short pants. Your brow is furrowed, your teeth biting into your bottom lip, and Hunter has to bite back a groan.

"I know," he breathes. His hands caress your sides, his fingers skimming over the soft skin, and he feels your body relax. You're fully seated on his cock now, and Hunter can feel the way your cunt flutters around him, squeezing him tight. You tremble, and he reaches up, cupping your face.

"You alright?" he asks, stroking his thumb over your cheek. You nod, the corners of your mouth curling upwards.

"It's been a long time. Need a minute."

"Take all the time you need," he says.

"Thank you," you smile, turning your head to press a kiss to his palm.

You sit there, staring into his eyes, the two of you just existing. He doesn't mind it. Doesn't care about anything other than the feeling of being inside you. He can't believe he forgot what this was like, how perfect it is, how much he loves it. How much he loves you.

The urge to keep you here, to never let you go, to keep you safe and warm and loved and happy is overwhelming, and he can't help but reach out, his fingers tracing the curve of your jaw. He wonders if this is what it feels like to drown. If this is how people describe being swept away, pulled under the waves by the current, never to surface again.

He wonders if this is what they mean when they talk about being lost in someone.

Because he is. He's completely and utterly lost. Lost in you. Lost in the warmth of your gaze, the softness of your touch, the scent of your skin, the feeling of your body surrounding him, your heart beating in sync with his own.

He knows, in this moment, that he's not just in love with you. That he's not just madly infatuated with the woman in his arms. He's lost, and there's no coming back. He's yours. And he knows, without a shadow of a doubt, that you belong to him. That the two of you are bound together. That there's no one else for him. No one else he wants. Just you.

It's not the first time he's felt it, this overwhelming sense of love. But it's the first time it's hit him so hard. Maybe because it's the first time it's been this intense, this all-consuming. Maybe because it's the first time he's actually understood what it means. What it truly means.

Maybe because it's the first time he's truly believed it.

"Hunter?"

You're staring at him, concern etched across your features, and he realizes, with a start, that tears are rolling down his cheeks. He hadn't noticed.

"Sorry," he mutters, hastily wiping his face.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing," he says.

"Are you sure?" you ask. "Because I've never seen you cry before."

"I'm okay," he says, smiling softly. "I'm fine. Just... overwhelmed, I guess."

"You sure?"

"Yeah," he nods. He sits up, bracing his back against the headboard as his hands cup your cheeks. "I'm more than fine."

"Okay," you say, giving him a worried smile. His thumb smooths the crease between your brows, and he presses a gentle kiss in its place.

"I promise," he murmurs as he leans his forehead against yours. "I love you."

"Love you too," you whisper. You place a hand on his chest, just above his heart, and he wraps his arms around you, holding you close.

"I don't say it enough," he says, his voice hoarse. "But I mean it. Every time."

"I know," you assure him. You kiss his cheek, your lips trailing over the curve. "You don't have to say it. I know. I can feel it. I always have."

"Good," he sighs. His hands move up and down your back, the tips of his fingers gliding over your spine. "Never forget it."

"I won't," you promise.

He holds you there, your foreheads pressed together, your noses touching. He closes his eyes, inhaling deeply, letting the scent of you wash over him. It calms him, soothes him, and he feels his heart slow, his breathing evening out.

You shift, lifting your hips, and he gasps, the feeling of your cunt gripping his cock sending a jolt of pleasure through him. You smile, kissing the corner of his mouth.

"I'm okay," he whispers, his hands moving to grip your hips.

"Good," you say, your lips brushing over his. You start to move, rising up onto your knees before sinking back down. You both groan, the feeling of being joined sending a surge of warmth through him.

"Kriff," Hunter rasps as your hands find his shoulders, your fingers digging into the muscle, and you lift yourself up again, repeating the motion. His head falls back against the headboard with a dull thump, and you smile, your teeth scraping over the sensitive spot where his neck meets his shoulder.

"How's that feel?"

"So good," he breathes.

"Yeah?" you hum, rocking against him.

You're moving slowly, the pace torturous, and Hunter can't help but grind his hips upwards, trying to speed things along. You're having none of it, placing a hand on his chest, pushing him back against the bed.

"Slow," you order.

"Can't," he groans. His grip on your waist tightens, his fingers digging into the soft flesh, and he pulls you down, forcing himself deeper as his hips buck up into you.

"Why not?"

"Need more," he pants.

"Hmm," you murmur, nipping at his throat. "I thought we were going to take our time."

"Changed my mind."

"Too bad," you smirk.

Your lips find his, capturing him in a heated kiss, and Hunter moans, his mouth parting for you. Your tongue sweeps through his mouth, seeking his own, and he can't stop the desperate noise that escapes him as you taste him. He tries to move, to thrust up into you, but a weight presses down on him, holding him in place. He knows without looking that the Force is holding him down, keeping him still, and a thrill runs through him, the realization making him even harder.

"Fuck," he hisses.

"What was that?"

"Kriff, I hate when you do that," he mutters, glaring up at you.

"Do what?" you ask, feigning innocence.

"That." He jerks his chin towards the invisible pressure pinning him to the bed. "You know exactly what."

"No idea what you're talking about," you grin. You're still moving, the movement slow and steady, and Hunter lets out a low whine, his eyes slipping shut.

"You're insufferable," he huffs, his head falling back.

"I think you're the one being insufferable," you tease, placing a hand on his chest. You run your fingers through the coarse hair, dragging them down until they brush over the base of his cock. "If I recall, you were the one who said we should take our time."

"Well, maybe I was wrong."

"Oh, I don't know," you say, your fingers tracing the edge of his hip bone. "I think it's nice."

"It is," he concedes, hissing as you squeeze his balls. "But it's not enough."

"No?"

"No," he says, opening his eyes. He looks up at you, taking in the sight. Your skin is flushed, your lips swollen and parted, your eyes glassy and filled with desire. He swallows hard, his hands tightening on your hips. He knows there will be marks tomorrow, a reminder of what happened tonight, and the thought makes him twitch inside you.

"So impatient," you tut.

"Yeah," he agrees. "You're so kriffing gorgeous. And I want you so badly. Always. I can't get enough of you."

"Hunter," you gasp, grinding down on him.

"Yeah," he breathes, his eyes drifting down to where the two of you are joined. Your cunt is stretched tight around his cock, and Hunter lets out a moan, the sight making his mouth water. He's always loved watching you take his cock, loved the way it looked as it slid in and out of your wet heat, loved the way it felt, being inside you. But now, after everything? After almost losing you?

"Force, I can't get over how beautiful you are," he whispers.

You're moving faster now, his cock sliding in and out of you with ease, and the room fills with the sounds of skin slapping against skin and heavy breathing.

"Fuck," you cry out as he hits that spot deep inside, and Hunter lets out a grunt, his hands finding your breasts.

"There you go," he says. He palms the soft flesh, his fingers finding your nipples, and he pinches them, rolling the stiff buds between his thumb and forefinger.

"Oh," you moan, arching into his touch. "Oh, that feels good."

"Yeah?" he breathes.

"Yes," you nod, rocking against him. You're bouncing on his cock, the bed shaking with each thrust, and Hunter can't tear his eyes away. He's transfixed, unable to look anywhere else. You're a vision, sweat beading on your brow, your body trembling as the pleasure builds.

His hands find your ass, pulling you down onto his cock, and he can feel the muscles flexing beneath his fingertips. He can feel his climax approaching, his balls tightening, the pressure building. He's not ready for this to end, not yet, so he grits his teeth, biting the inside of his cheek.

"You gonna come for me, sweetheart?" he pants, his hands roaming over the curve of your ass, squeezing and groping.

"Mmhm," you nod. You're leaning forward now, your hands braced on his chest as you ride him. Your nails rake across his chest, leaving angry red lines in their wake, and his hips twitch, trying to thrust up into you. The weight keeps him in place, and he lets out a frustrated groan.

"That's it," he coos. He can feel the tension in your thighs, the way your legs are shaking, and he knows you're close. He grips your ass tighter, helping you keep pace, and you whimper, your movements becoming erratic.

"Please," you plead, and he can't deny you, not when you're begging.

His fingers find your clit, his thumb rubbing the swollen bundle of nerves. Your head falls forward, your hair falling over your face, and Hunter reaches up, brushing the strands aside.

"Come for me," he says, his voice hoarse. “Come for me, and then I’m gonna fill you up."

"Yes," you gasp.

"You wanna feel it, don't you?" he murmurs. He's barely holding on now, the heat pooling in his belly threatening to overwhelm him. "Want me to fill you up, mark you as mine. Make you mine."

"Yes, yes, yes," you chant, grinding against him. "More, please, please, please, I need—"

He flicks his thumb over your clit, pressing down hard. Your breath hitches, your walls fluttering around his cock, and Hunter watches, mesmerized, as you shudder above him. You're staring at him, your pupils blown wide, your hair a mess, your skin covered in a thin sheen of sweat, your mouth hanging open in a silent scream.

"There it is," he growls. The weight pressing down on him disappears, and he grabs your waist, flipping you over. Your back hits the mattress, your legs wrapped around his hips, and he pounds into you, chasing his own release.

"Yes," you cry out, wrapping your arms around his neck. Your mouth finds his, swallowing his moans, as his cock pistons in and out of your dripping cunt.

He fucks you, hard and fast, the bed creaking underneath the two of you. You're clinging to him, your nails scratching his back, and he knows there will be marks, knows that he's probably hurting you, but he can't stop, can't slow down. He's so close, the pressure building, the pleasure coiling deep inside, and he's desperate for it, his thrusts becoming frantic.

"Gonna fill you up," he gasps.

"Please," you beg, and that's all it takes.

His orgasm hits him hard, and he cries out, his hips jerking erratically as he spills inside you. He buries his face in your neck, biting and sucking, and you whimper, your legs tightening around his waist.

"Fuck, yes," you groan, and Hunter can feel the warmth of his spend leaking out of you, the mess coating his cock, dripping down his thighs. It's intoxicating, and he can't stop himself from thrusting deeper, trying to make sure every drop is buried inside you.

"Oh, Hunter," you moan. Your hands are on his ass, pulling him closer, urging him on. He grinds his hips against you, and you sigh, a lazy smile spreading across your lips.

"Good?" he asks, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek.

"Perfect," you whisper. You cup his face, and he leans into the touch, his eyelids fluttering as he savors the feeling.

He doesn't want to move, doesn't want to let go. He's perfectly content to stay like this, holding you, his cock buried deep inside you, your hands stroking his face. You're watching him, your eyes roaming over his body, and he preens under the attention, a soft smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"Well," he huffs, "I hope that was worth the wait."

"It was," you nod. You pull him closer, his head resting on your chest, and he lets out a sigh, his body relaxing.

"You alright?" he murmurs, pressing a kiss to the swell of your breast.

"Mmhm," you nod. Your hands are tracing patterns over his skin, fingers trailing across his back, and he can't help but shiver, goosebumps erupting in their wake.

"I'm not too heavy?"

"Not at all," you say. Your fingers move up, combing through his hair, and Hunter practically purrs, a low rumble rising from his chest.

"Good," he sighs. He tilts his head, his nose brushing against the hollow of your throat, and he inhales deeply, the scent of your arousal still thick in the air. He can feel the heat radiating off your body, and he shivers, the sensation sending a tingle down his spine.

"Hey," you murmur, and he hums in response. He shifts his weight, settling his elbows on either side of your head, and kisses your cheek.

"Hi," he whispers, his breath ghosting across your skin. He leans forward, brushing his lips against yours. You return the kiss eagerly, a soft moan escaping you. You wrap your arms around his neck, pulling him closer, and he goes willingly, his hips grinding against you.

"Mm, again?" you giggle, your teeth scraping over his bottom lip.

"If you're up for it," he says, grinning.

"I'm always up for it," you smirk. You roll your hips, your legs wrapping around his waist. He's still half-hard, his cock slowly swelling, and he can't stop the groan that rumbles in his chest.

"Good." Hunter grins, capturing your mouth in another searing kiss. "Because I'm nowhere near done with you."

"Well, we've got plenty of time," you breathe.

"Plenty," he echoes, his hands finding your hips. "Let's make the most of it, then."

And he does.

He spends the rest of the night worshiping you, his mouth and hands mapping every inch of your skin. He leaves no part of you untouched, his lips and tongue and fingers exploring every inch, and you do the same. The two of you take turns, exploring and teasing, pleasuring and loving, until you're both too exhausted to continue.

Afterwards, you lie together, his arm draped over your waist, his nose buried in the crook of your neck. Hunter inhales deeply, the familiar scent filling his nostrils, and he lets out a content sigh. He can feel the ache in his limbs, and he's suddenly aware of how tired he is. He doesn't remember the last time he slept, and he can't even recall the last time he was able to relax. It feels like forever since he's felt this good, this safe.

This happy.

"I love you,” you murmur as you press a kiss to the top of his head.

"I love you, too," he whispers, his voice thick.

"I know," you chuckle, and he smiles against your neck.

You're both still breathing hard, chests heaving, bodies sticky with sweat, and he revels in the feeling, his arms tightening around you. He can't stop himself from kissing you, peppering your neck with gentle kisses, his lips ghosting over the delicate skin.

He makes his way up to your jaw, then your cheek, before finally meeting your mouth. It's slow, tender, filled with a sense of intimacy he hasn't felt in a long time, and it's enough to make him tear up. His hand cradles your cheek, his thumb stroking the skin, and he closes his eyes, savoring the moment.

He never thought he'd have this. Never thought he'd get a chance.

And now that he does? Now that he's got you here, in his arms, where he's meant to be?

"I'm not letting you go again," he mumbles, his forehead pressed against yours. "I don't care what it takes, I'm not letting anyone or anything take you from me."

"Hunter," you start, but he cuts you off.

"I know. I know, you can handle yourself, you're more than capable. I know all that. But I'm still going to be there. I'm always going to be there."

"I know," you say, your hand cupping his cheek.

"Do you?"

His eyes search yours, searching for any hint of hesitation, any sign of doubt. He finds none. Just warmth. Just love.

"Yes," you whisper.

"Good," he nods. He pulls back, just enough to look into your eyes. He doesn't think he'll ever get tired of seeing you like this, bare and vulnerable, looking at him like that. Like he's the only person who matters.

"I meant what I said earlier," he says. "About wanting a family. A future."

"Me too," you smile.

"Really?"

"Yes," you nod, placing a hand on his chest. Your fingertips trace over the curve of his collarbone, and he shivers. "I want that with you. I always have."

"Even after everything?"

"Especially after everything," you assure him. "I've always wanted a future with you, Hunter. Ever since we met. I know you're scared. I am too. But I love you, and I want this. Us. All of it."

"Okay," he says, smiling.

"Okay," you repeat, returning the smile.

He pulls you into another kiss, his hand cradling the back of your neck, and the two of you stay like that, kissing and touching and loving, until exhaustion takes over. You curl up against him, your head on his chest, his arms wrapped around you, and he feels his eyes begin to droop. He can't remember the last time he was this relaxed, the last time he was this comfortable. The last time he felt so safe. So loved.

And for the first time in a long time, Hunter doesn't worry. He doesn't stress. He doesn't plan.

Instead, he closes his eyes, a smile tugging at his lips, and he lets the world fade away.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild @yoitsjay @callsign-denmark

@julli-bee @sonicrainbooms @captn-trex @feral-ferrule @webslinger-holland

@marchingviolinist @deerspringdreams

[coffeeandbatboys]

The Clones reacting to you smushing their cheeks

Idk I had this idea and thought it’d be cute. Since the clones are supposed to have round cheeks, visualize live action and not animated 😂

Warnings: none, just fluff.

Fives, Wrecker, Hardcase, & Tup: Loving it so much, will lean into your hands and give you heart eyes. Maybe even press a few kisses to your hand.

Cody, Jesse, Kix, Echo, Vaughn & Mayday: Will blush profusely and look side to side for a second, before giving in and flashing you a tiny smile.

Rex, Hunter, Tech, & Fox: Not sure what to do, just give an awkward smile and internally scream because they secretly find it super cute.

Crosshair, Wolffe & Dogma: Not understanding any of it. Don’t know what you’re doing, not sure that they like it, 3/10 do not recommend.

[pinkiemme]

Happy Cody day!! Give him all the kisses 💋

[queenie-official]

NO YOU DONT UNDERSTAND- I NEED HIM SO BAD ITS DETRIMENTAL TO MY HEALTH!

[stellarbit]

Shifting Loyalties NSFW

Word Count: 7.7k Pairings: The Bad Batch x fem!reader, Tech girlies you get an extra treat. Warnings: I'm not gonna lie y'all, this is smut with almost no plot. I can't list it all. I have no excuses, it's all the batch at once so that should give you an idea of what you're walking into. But no clonecest here. Barely proofread. Summary: The Bad Batch and you are supporting the 501st on a mission, where you are reunited with your old squad. The Batch get a bit jealous and Jesse fans the flame. NSFW

Fives is alive for this because, who doesn’t need more Fives and who doesn’t want to scream at canon sometimes.

-

“It’s obnoxious is what it is.” Crosshair spat, biting down hard enough on his toothpick to snap it in two.

The source of his irritation was the scene unfolding amongst the men of the 501st. During another last-minute mission as General Skywalker's backup, you and Echo had settled in with your former squad before it was time to turn in for the night. Gathered in a loose circle were Echo, Rex, Jesse, Fives, Kix, and you, catching up while the Batch observed from a distance.

Perched on a crate, with Fives at your side leaning on an elbow and talking your ear off, you crossed your ankles and swayed your feet lightly, clearly enjoying the conversation. When Fives' hand casually landed on your thigh, emphasizing his point, Wrecker couldn't suppress a low groan.

"What's so special about those guys, anyway?" Wrecker grumbled, tossing a hand in your direction as a loud laugh escaped you. "I bet it's not even that funny!"

Paying as little attention to the situation as possible, Tech interjected, "There's nothing 'special' about them. It’s simply a shared history." He glanced up to see Fives stand a bit taller, gesturing animatedly as he dominated the conversation. Fives leaned closer to you, his hands gripping your knees for balance.

Logically, there was nothing wrong with their behavior. As Tech understood it, such comradery was not uncommon amongst the regs. Yet seeing you at the center of it set his teeth on edge.

Kix and Jesse had picked up on the Batch’s attitude the moment you stepped off the Marauder. Rex warmed up to the 99’s but the rest of the 501st maintained their distance. That distance solidified into distaste when you left the 501st to join the Batch.

As Rex and Echo broke away on their own, Jesse sidled up to your side, opposite of Fives, with Kix at his side. While Fives pulled every laugh out of you he could, Kix noticed the scowl Tech was leveling him and subtly nudged Jesse.

“Looks like we’ve got an audience.” Kix muttered.

Jesse glanced briefly towards the four Batch members who were watching intently. "Oh, really?" Jesse scoffed, his gaze sweeping over the group before returning to you with a renewed, cocky smile. “Well, then let’s give them something to look at.”

Hopping up next to you, Jesse leaned into your space to position behind your back and hovering over your waist. “Say, Shorty?” He finally interrupted Fives’ ramblings, getting the ARC trooper to push off of you.

“Oh!” You laughed. “Back to ‘Shorty’ are we?”

Fives crossed his arms and grinned, “Well, seeing as how you are shorter than us - you’ll always be a shorty to us.” He nodded towards his brothers at your side. You rolled your eyes, but the small smile tugging at you betrayed your enjoyment

Catching this, Jesse and Fives shared a knowing look, Fives briefly glancing at Jesse's hand still poised near your side. Fives then uncrossed his arms and nodded subtly.

“As I was saying…” Jesse continued, his tone teasing. “You ever get over that little twitch of yours?”

A confused look passed over you. With a small shake of your head you asked, “What ‘twitch?’”

Without warning, Jesse’s hand snapped to your side, his fingers wiggling into your ribs, eliciting a yelp as you jumped into him. In a desperate attempt to escape his tickling, you shimmied forward, laughing through the discomfort. The sudden movement toppled you off the crate, straight into Fives’ waiting arms. Without missing a beat, he caught you with one arm cradling your ass and the other holding you by your waist.

Jesse and Kix chuckled as you shoved against Fives, your feigned anger fooling no one. Kix leaned over to Jesse, musing, "Oh, they didn't like that one bit."

“Looks like someone should go lend them some comfort.” Jesse said sarcastically, sauntering off towards the four troopers.

From their side, the Batch watched on in disgust as you sat in Fives’ arms losing yourself in laughter. He hoisted you over his shoulder, bouncing you a couple of times for show, before setting you back on your feet.

"Show off," Hunter muttered under his breath, rolling his eyes as he turned from the spectacle. He gestured to his brothers with a brisk nod. "C'mon lads, let’s head inside." Despite the order, Tech, Wrecker, and Crosshair remained firmly in place as Jesse approached, his presence igniting further irritation.

A guttural growl rumbled from Crosshair as Jesse closed in, his tone playful yet provocative. "You're not heading out so soon, are you, fellas?" He jerked a thumb back in your direction, his grin sharp. "You’re missing all the fun over here."

“Oh goody.” Crosshair angled a mean smile at him, placing a toothpick between his lips. “Tell me, are all regs as dull as you?”

Maintaining his composure, Jesse leaned in slightly, his confidence unshaken. “With her smiling like that, I can’t say I’m too worried about being dull. We always kept her smiling. In fact, most nights with us ended with her being happy.” He casually rested a hand on his hip, his smirk widening. “Guess you fellas are only good with clankers.”

Tech, standing next to Crosshair, frowned deeply, his eyes flicking between the men of the 501st and you. His voice was sharp, clinical. “What exactly are you insinuating?”

Before Jesse could reply, Wrecker pushed forward, his massive frame towering as he stepped between his brothers. His voice was deep and menacing, each word dripping with threat., “Yeah, what are you in-sin-ua-ting?”

Jesse stepped closer, meeting the challenge and smirking up at the large clone. “I’m saying, we must’ve been doing something you aren't.” His gaze briefly flickering over to where you were mingling with others, finally realizing where Jesse had strayed off to. While he could, Jesse snuck in one more jab. “Guess Echo didn’t tell you everything. We were more than a squad to her.”

The implication ripped a growl from Crosshair, but before he could escalate the situation, your warm voice broke the tension. “You wouldn’t be causing trouble now, would you, Jesse?”

Jesse turned toward you with a feigned innocence, his chuckle light. “Of course not,” he replied smoothly. “Just catching them up on the old days.” As he clapped a hand on your shoulder and gave it a playful shake, he threw in, “Speaking of which, why don’t you bunk with us tonight, Shorty? It’ll be just like old times.”

His use of your nickname in front of your squad heated your face. From the noise Crosshair made, you were going to have trouble living that down.

With a laugh, you rolled his hand off your shoulder, your tone light but firm. “Oh, I don’t think so. I actually need to get some sleep.” You poked a finger into Jesse’s chest plate playfully yet pointedly. “Which I’m sure wouldn’t happen with your lot around.”

Wrecker's eyebrows flew up as he shot a look at Hunter, who wore a similarly stunned expression. They were just beginning to catch glimpses of your unfiltered self, and while they had suspected the men of the 501st were trying to rile them up, they never dreamt of the level of intimacy you just admitted to.

Seeing you banter so comfortably with the regs, with laughter and playful jabs, left the Batch glowering. For the first time in their lives, they were truly jealous of these regs. They were getting used to being the closest to you, the ones you leaned on during missions, and this unexpected side of you—closer with regs than them—struck a chord.

“Let’s go, lads.” Hunter ordered with a firmness that turned your head. You knew your squad was on edge with the regs, but Hunter sounded almost angry. He left without another word and his brothers trailed behind shortly after. Crosshair was the last to leave, flicking his toothpick past Jesse, barely missing his face.

Watching them retreat to the makeshift barracks adjacent to the 501st’s, you turned to Jesse, your expression one of exasperation. "What did you do?" you demanded.

Jesse put his hands up innocently, saying, “Not my fault your squad doesn’t like to share.”

Share? Weighing the worth of further questioning him against checking in with the Batch, you grumbled in frustration and pointed a warning finger at your former squadmate, “You’re just as bad.” Not allowing him to get under your skin as well you made for your barracks. 

You walked in on the Batch quietly conversing, standing around Wrecker as he sat on a bottom bunk. Out of the lot, Tech and Wrecker turned slightly to see you walking in their direction. You gave a little wave as you neared. The conversation fell silent the nearer you got, widening your nervous smile. They are not happy, you inwardly groaned

Attempting to break the tension you said in a light tone, “Can’t believe we’re actually sleeping in the barracks.” Pulling up to the corner of Wrecker’s bunk, you leaned against the post, arms crossed. “Echo will be pleasantly surprised.”

Crosshair snorted, “It fits. He’s full of surprises.” His odd response, again, pinched your brows.

Widening your eyes and raising your brows in the awkward moment, you flared your fingers out around your arms. “Well, I’ll just pick a bunk.”

You pushed off the bunk only for Wrecker to catch you by the elbow and tug you into his lap, teetering on his thigh, with a hand at the small of your back.

You twisted in your spot to smile at Wrecker, who was looking unexpectedly bashful. “What’s all this?” They boys had only recently started toeing past physical boundaries, this was a bit of a jump for them. Further trying to dissipate the tension, you rocked into Wrecker with your hip. “Scared of sleeping alone suddenly?”

Wrecker swallowed hard, his eyes darting briefly to his brothers as if seeking support or reassurance.

Maintaining a polite, albeit confused, smile you followed his line of sight.. While Tech kept his nose in his datapad, Crosshair stepped up next to Hunter, prompting the Sergeant to step forward and take a knee in front of you.

Hunter's gaze was heavy as he took a deep breath, then slowly lifted his eyes to meet yours. The intensity there caused you to catch and hold your breath, something going taut between you.

"We've been thinking," Hunter began, his voice cautious, as if testing the waters. His hand gently came to rest over your knee, his touch causing you to straighten instinctively, pressing you further into Wrecker’s lap. Until then, you had almost forgotten your position with Wrecker, but his large hand then settled more firmly around your waist.

The dual sensation of their touches sent a shiver through you, a subtle tremble that Wrecker evidently felt too, eliciting a soft, strained noise from him.

“There’s something we’d like to do for you.” Hunter smiled, his hand sliding north of your knee.

You went stock still, eyes blown wide as Hunter leaned in. You shot a look at Crosshair to find him twirling a toothpick between his fingers with a satisfied smile. Next to him, Tech caught your eyes. Where Hunter’s eyes had stilled you, Tech’s thrilled you. You were happy to be seated with Wrecker, because having Tech’s full attention made you feel weak.

“What’s that?” You asked, voice just above a whisper, as you broke away from Tech to find Hunter still watching you. You heart jumped into your throat when Hunter’s thumb smoothed over your inner thigh.

“Have you ever thought about-” Hunter paused, clearing his throat to cover up his hesitation. Slowly and calmly he started again, “Have you ever thought about spending the night with us?”

“I already-”

“Think a little harder.” Crosshair cut you off with an amused tune. Your eyes snapped to Crosshair and, somehow, the arrogance in his stance filled you in on Hunter’s meaning. Heat flared through you, flushing your face so quickly you knew even your ears were red. 

On more than one occasion you’d found release lost in the fantasy of being the center of their attention. Every time you witnessed them sans armor you had to manually breathe through professionalism.

Again you looked to Hunter, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a slow nod. Hunter dipped his head, hiding the way his smile widened. Barely lifting his head, he chuffed and followed up with, “Would you like to spend tonight with us?” 

You were able to swallow the whine in your throat enough to nod another affirmative. Hunter opened his mouth but was interrupted by Tech.

“That will not suffice.” Both you and Hunter looked to Tech for clarification. Tech adjusted his goggles but shook his head. “If this is something you want, you will need to agree to what we are asking verbally.” Your legs squeezed together at Tech’s stern tone.

You felt Hunter’s gaze shift back to you, but you eyes were trained on Tech. A smile, wobbly and excited, fluttered over your lips. “Yes,” Heat pooled between your legs, you squirmed in Wrecker’s lap, and you said. “I want to spend the night the night with you guys.”

Wrecker’s other hand found your side, firming his grip to hold you in place. He laughed through his nerves, “Watch it with that.”

Suddenly, you became very aware of where you were seated in his lap. Pushed back over his knee, just an inch or so from his crotch. If you twisted even the slightest you’d pressed him. With intent, you carefully turned into him to offer a smile. As Wrecker groaned against the pressure of your leg you offered a half-assed apology. 

Wrecker took one look at you and crashed his lips into yours. A moment of shock hit you before your started moving against him, melting into the feel of his tongue against yours. When Wrecker leaned you back and deepened the kiss, a little needy noise escaped you 

It was enough for Crosshair to kick Wrecker’s foot.  “Ease up.” Crosshair. Wrecker did indeed ease up, breaking the kiss and leaving you dazed and panting in his eyes.

“Sorry,” He chuckled, lifting a thumb to wipe your lips dry. “Got a lil excited there.”

All you could manage was a hum as he righted you in his lap. Hunter tilted his head back, his smile turning into a challe, “You sure wanna do this?”

You answered by sliding from Wrecker’s knee onto his, slipping your arms around his neck, and stopping just as your lips hovered over his. Lightly squeezing his thigh between yours, you said on a breath. “I’ll only say it once more. I want this.” Grinding onto him, you added. “Badly.”

Catching his lips in a slow kiss, you moved with his hands as they found your hips and pressed you harder onto his knee. With every brush of your clit against him, an ache, hot and desperate, grew in your core. The sound of shuffling armor only reached you as Hunter tapped your thigh, easing you back into reality. “Let’s get you out of those clothes.”

Eager to continue as quickly as possible, you bounced off of Hunter’s knee to make quick work of your attire. By the time you were down to your underthings they were all down to their blacks in some way. Tech’s was still zipped up, Crosshair and Hunter had theirs stripped to the waist, and Wrecker was stepping out of his. 

Just the sight of them fully dressed was enough to fluster you, finally seeing them bare made you feel downright feral. 

Wrecker stepped over to you, his already erect cock swaying with him. Your mouth went dry at his size, though it was fitting for a man of his stature. He tilted his head with a grin and gestured for the bunk behind you.

As you sat, you came face to face with his massive member before he dropped to a knee. The idea of taking him first, after not having anyone for a long time, thrilled you as much as it intimidated you. A warm body pressed against your back as a pair of long legs, still dressed in black, appeared on either side of you.

Wrecker hooked his fingers into your panties and pulled them off as Tech, in a low tone, said into your ear, “He’s going to warm you up.” 

The chill his voice sent through you hit at the same time Wrecker’s tongue slid over you. Arching into Tech, you whined as Wrecker picked up a steady pace of long flat licks that ended with covering your clit with his mouth. 

Tech wormed a hand between your bodies to discard your bra and give him access to your chest. Gloved hands cupped around your breasts, gently tracing the shape of them before rolling your nipples between his fingers.

Your entire body tensed as Tech played with your nipples. From between your legs, Wrecker chuckled as he slid his middle finger into you, “Oh, she likes that.” The ache Hunter had ignited grew as Wrecker kissed and sucked on your clit while working his finger into you.

“Is it true that you enjoy this?” Tech asked, applying more pressure as you writhed against him.

“Yes,” You barely managed to pant as you quickly reached your peak. “I do, I do, I-”

As you tightened around Wrecker’s finger, he suddenly broke away from you, leaving you empty and at the painful edge of release. “Not yet.” Wrecker left a kiss on your inner thigh as you grabbed to pull him back, only stopped by Tech holding you against him.

“Not yet.” Tech repeated sternly, again stilling you with his voice in your ear.

Wrecker stood as Tech slid out from behind you. Wrecker took his place, positioning you on top of his lap to spread your knees with his. Taking his finger, still wet with you, he traced your slit all the way to your ass. You were starting to tense at the sensation when Wrecker cooed as he slid his finger into you. “Don’t worry, I gotcha.”

Spread wide as Wrecker fingered you, Hunter could see how badly you ached to be filled. With each stroke of Wrecker’s finger, you visibly clenched. Hunter finally released the length of him when you pressed a hand over your mouth to restrain a moan.

Crosshair stepped in to pull your hand away, letting the tail end of your noises loose. “They could hear.” You whined louder than you wanted.

Crosshair held your face in his hand, angling you to face him. With a hand braced on the top bunk, Crosshair leaned down to your eye level. Sucking on a tooth, he smirked as his eyes roamed your writhing form. Meeting your gaze again he gave you a gentle shake as he practically purred, “Then let’s give them something to listen to.”

He’d distracted you enough that Hunter’s sliding into between your legs startled you. Crosshair released your face when Hunter’s cock made contact with you. You leaned forward for a glimpse of him. His swollen head slid over you until he brushed up passed your clit. Precum leaked from him and slid down to mix with your own wetness. Hunter traced you a few times before he tipped your chin up. 

Lined up with you, Hunter asked, “Ready?” Wrecker buried his finger in you as they both waited for your answer.

“Hunter, please.” You quickly whined, bracing your hand on his shoulders, truly desperate to be filled with him.

Hunter leaned in and rolled his hips into you, slowly breaching you until he was completely inside. “You feel,” Huntered groaned, “So good.” As he started pulling out, Wrecker timed his fingers with him. 

Standing within reach of you, Crosshair pulled himself free of his blacks as he watched on. Your attention only pulled away from where you and Hunter were joined when you caught sight of Crosshair stroking himself.

Your noises grew in volume as the Hunter and Wrecker filled you over and over. Only a few strokes in and your toes were already curlling. Feeling your sudden grip, Hunter fully sheathed himself in you as Wrecker left you empty.

“You good?” Hunter asked in a strained voice as he throbbed within you.

You nodded, a blissful smile flashing over you. “Really good.” 

Beneath you, Wrecker squirmed to reposition himself, even raising you out of his way as he did. You heard Wrecker spit but couldn’t tell what on. Hunter pulled you against him for support as Wrecker pressed up against your ass and slid over its entrance. You tried to whip around but Hunter held you firm. 

Pressing a kiss into your neck, Hunter mumbled, “Tell us to stop and we will.”

While Wrecker waited, throbbing against you, Hunter lightly rocked his hips, moving just enough to rub into your cervix. You watched Crosshair’s head angle to get a view of your ass, then your heaving chest, before settling back on your eyes. He continued stroking himself, smirk growing as a needy expression flooded you. 

You swallowed hard when precum spilled out of Crosshair’s cock. “Keep going.” You moaned, granting Wrecker the permission to pull you down onto him. Your body went taught when the flare of his glans pushed past your threshold. Inhaling, you whined and waited for more of Wrecker.

You only waited a second longer before you were grinding yourself over him, not only taking more of Wrecker but grinding farther onto Hunter. “That’s a good girl.” Wrecker sighed happily as he leaned back on one hand and supported your ass as you moved over him. 

The two of them had you completely filled, stretching you in a way that made you see stars. You knew you’d never be the same after feeling this. Hunter angled your hips enough that each thrust pushed into your G-spot. Each of their thrusts had you whimpering louder as you felt the ache in your core tighten.

Giving your ass cheek a firm grasp, Wrecker’s head fall back in ecstacy. It took everything in him to not move faster and push harder into you. He wanted to feel you make you come completely undone around him, break apart for him even, but he sat back and let you pleasure yourself on him.

Eyes still on Crosshair, you extended an open hand to him, urging him closer. The sniper snorted but obliged you, giving you full access to his body. Resting back on Wrecker, you let Hunter take over the rhythm as you pulled Crosshair closer. 

Swiping a thumb over Crosshair’s slit, his precum spilled over you. Crosshair ran a hand over your hair and around to your jawline. “Of course that’s not enough for you,” Crosshair mused. His cock, thick in your hand, had a small patch of silver hair at its base you brushed as you pumped your hand over him.

Each deliberate move of your hand challenged Crosshair’s composure. He clenched his jaw to hide the pleasure he felt. His resolve cracked as his eyes fluttered and he leaned in to your grasp.

The rare sight of Crosshair’s softened features made you whimper and writhe in Hunter’s hold. Your tightening grip rushed Hunter to his limit. He rested his forehead in the crook of your neck. “Mesh’la, keep doing that and I won’t last much longer.” 

Allowing himself a few shallow thrusts, Wrecker groaned, “I’m right there too.” He’d barely gotten the words out when Wrecker groaned loudly, pumping hard into you as he throbbed and lost control.

Hunter picked up his pace until he quickly pulled out and, a second later, coated you in cum. His hips kept rocking against you, rubbing over your clit and fueling the ache in your core. “Right there, right there.” You encouraged him as he kept moving over you until completely emptied himself. 

With Wrecker still throbbing inside you, paired with the sudden pressure on your clit, your orgasm hit you hard. It wracked your body until your legs quivered. Fucked into an euphoric state, you leaned towards Crosshair, still aching for pleasure. You’d never dreamt this would be a reality and you were quickly becoming greedy. 

“Easy now,” Wrecker murmured and, as gently as he could, eased out of you. Without him and Hunter, you felt emptier than ever before. 

Hunter scooted back enough to sit back on his knees, panting and pushing his hair back out of his face. He watched as Wrecker pressed a kiss to your shoulder and helped you crawl over his legs to face Crosshair.

Prying your mouth open with a thumb, Crosshair hummed down to you, “If you want a taste, you better do it quickly.” A chill ran down your spine as Crosshair pulled you by your mouth, guiding you to the tip of his cock. 

You stuck your tongue out to swirl around his head. He hissed as you eagerly took him into your mouth, bobbing over him and swiping your tongue side to side as you did. As promised, Crosshair only allowed you a small taste of him before pulling you off him.

He knelt to your eye level, crouching on the balls of his feet, to ask, “Do you want more?” 

Your brows pulled together and a lazy smile lifted your lips. “I want you, Crosshair.”

Crosshair stilled for a moment, something striking a chord in him. His eyes quickly scanned yours before he caught your lips in a fast, hurried kiss. He broke the kiss just enough to murmur against your lips, “On your knees.”

The sniper helped you to your feet and got you onto the neighboring bunk. He guided you onto your hands and knees, facing his brothers. There was no teasing nor dragging out the moment. No, Crosshair immediately lined himself up with you, leaned over to cage you in his arms, and whispered, “I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” 

In one smooth thrust, Crosshair buried himself inside of you, immediately taking up a steady pace as he fucked you into the bunk. Crosshair draped himself over you, sneaking a hand around you and right to the apex of your thighs. 

“Incoming.” Tech chimed from across the room. 

Crosshair held you in place as the barracks door swooshed open and Echo walked in. A drop of panic hit your stomach when Echo’s sweeping look found you. Confused, horror overtook the cyborg and as he hurried over.

Nearly stumbling over Hunter, still regaining his composure on the floor, Echo ripped around to you. “Crosshair, what do you think you are doing?!”

Crosshair pushed off of you, straightening to posture over you and face Echo. Using your hips as leverage, Crosshair slowed his pace and confidently answered, “Whatever what she wants.”

Echo’s expression went stunned as he knelt in front of you. Slightly dazed, flushed, and cum covered, you tucked your face into the mattress in a rush of embarrassment. Still, you whined each time Crosshair’s hips hit yours. 

Echo reached a concerned hand out, encouraging you to lift yourself again. His eyes searched yours, but you were too far gone to do anything but reach for the man in front of you. You ran your hand as far down Echo’s torso as you could and turned to press a kiss into his palm. “Echo.” His name came out on a moan that brought heat to his cheeks. 

“Looks like there is something else she wants.” Crosshair chuckled behind you. He leaned back over you, bringing his mouth to your ear but holding Echo’s stare. “Why don’t you tell Echo what you want?”

You could barely think through Crosshair’s relentless thrusting and the rhythm of his fingers. “Echo.” His eyes slid to you to catch you kissing his hand again. “I want to taste you.” Licking the length of his hand, you wrapped your mouth around his forefinger.

Echo had been growing hard from the moment he saw your bare skin until the softness of your mouth got him instantly hard. Glancing between you, Echo kept an eye on the hand still reaching for him and slowly brought his hips to meet your touch.

As you pried off his codpiece with one hand, Echo assisted in pulling himself out of his underlayer. 

You pulled Echo by his thigh so that he overshadowed your face. Starting at his base, where his balls met his shaft, you flattened your tongue and ran it up the length of him. Reaching his tip, you steadied him with your hand. 

Echo mumbled under a grunt as you moved your mouth over him, “Oh, stars.” 

The taste of Echo narrowed your focus on him, seeking to hear his pleasure. When Crosshair heard your own muffled moans, felt them with his chest against your back, he lifted off you. He traced a finger down your spine, feeling you arch into his touch as he went.

Echo was still adjusting to the reality he’d walked into when you started working your hand in tandom with your mouth. His hand flew to your head, his fingers threading into your hair. He couldn’t help himself as he kept his hand firm and met your rhythm with his own. You slackened into him as he pushed against the back of your throat.

The way you twitched around Crosshair, pulled a moan from him. Sensing your little struggle as you tried to take more of Echo, Crosshair again reached for your clit. “Relax.” He whispered as his hand made lazy circles around you.

Sliding off of Echo you swallowed and looked up to find him watching you with wide eyes and mouth slightly open. You didn’t look away as you opened wider and took him into your mouth. With a deep breath you relaxed as best you could and pushed him to the back of your throat. Moaning around him you pressed on until you felt him squeeze down your throat.

A moan, breathless and low, finally escaped Echo and he held you fast against him. The sounds you’d worked so hard for twisted that familiar ache in your core. Your eyes watered against the pressure as his cock twitched in your throat. You tasted him spilling inside you as he came undone. 

Crosshair grunted, shuddering as you clenched down on him. Unwilling to finish before you did, Crosshair focused his touch on your clit into light, fast strokes.

You tapped Echo repeatedly until he pulled his softening cock out of you. Gasping for air your fell onto your elbows, head hanging over the side of the bunk. Face down, ass up you sounded on the verge of tears as you warbled, “Cross, I can’t. I’m gonna-”

His thrusts become long, slow, and angled right into the soft spot inside you. “Go on then.” Crosshair urged you on. “We all want to hear you.”

The low tone of his voice finished you. Your eyes rolled back and you cried out as you lost yourself in Crosshair’s hold. He continued pushing you through your release as long as he could until Crosshair had to pull out. Gripping your hips tight, he thrust one final time against you and sent ropes of his cum down your back. In the throws of his own pleasure, his groans matched yours in volume.

It took a few moments for your both to settle back into the present. Your legs were so weak that you were at Crosshair’s mercy to keep you upright. He felt you relax and sag into his him, prompting him to gently lay you to rest on your side. He brushed your hair out of your face, letting you look up at him without moving your head.

He watched you pant a second longer, swallowed and asked, “You okay?”

A little smile came to you. You coughed out an affirmative hum, and warmly croaked, “More than okay.”

Echo came around to your side, looking over you with concern. “What can we do?”

“Relax.” Hunter, already half dressed, came behind Echo and gestured casually towards another area. “Tech’s on it.” His gaze softened as he smiled down at you over Echo’s shoulder. “You really are something.”

His praise sent a wave of warmth through you, though you could only muster a pleasant hum in response, your energy still recovering.

“Tech’s gonna help you get cleaned up. That okay with you?” Hunter waved someone, presumably Tech, over. 

Taking a deep breath, you raised onto your elbow. Tech was indeed inbound carrying some supplies and still full dressed. Suddenly you felt as bare as you were. You couldn’t look away, but gave Hunter the nod he and Crosshair needed to step away.

“C’mon boys, let’s give her some privacy.”

Echo looked you over once more, nodded and followed his brothers lead.

Soon it was just you and Tech in the quiet. For most of what happened, you’d lost track of Tech. Who had, by the looks of it, had steered completely clear of the scene.

Tech settled down next to you, placing a stack of necessities beside your head—clothes, towels, all topped with a bowl of water. You pushed yourself up to a sitting position with one hand, inspecting the items he had brought. “Thank you,” you mumbled shyly, the simple kindness in his preparation bringing some softness you very much needed.

“Sit up.” Tech instructed as he brought the water closer. You followed his order, positioning yourself with your back slightly turned. Looking over your shoulder, you watched Tech dip a small towl in the water before bringing it to your shoulder.

The towel was cool against your flushed skin. Jumping you said through a chill, “That’s cold, Tech.”

“You do not want warm water for this.” Tech said matter-of-factly. “Heat will denature the proteins in the se-”

“Oh! I didn’t know that.” You said quickly, cutting him off while also doing terrible job at covering your embarassment.

Tech rotated between wiping your back and ringing out the towel. When silence again fell over you, Tech asked softly. “Are you in any pain?”

You thought for a moment, doing a mental sweep of your body, and replied, “No, I’m okay.” You squeezed your eyes shut hearing yourself stuttering your words.

Tech immediately questioned you again, “Are you having regrets?”

You flinched to turn around, but kept your back to him. “No.” You replied softly. It went quiet again as Tech did a final swipe of your back.

“Now turn around.” Tech swapped out the towel for a fresh one as you slowly turned to face him. 

Again, Tech dampened the cloth and brought it to your skin, the cool touch hitching your breath. As his hands carefully wiped your skin, he observed your slow, controlled breathing. His eyes darted to yours. 

“You are uncharacteristically silent.” Tech noted bluntly with no follow up theory as to why.

Shoving your nerves to a manageable level, you blurted out, “Why didn’t you join?”

Tech’s hand stilled, but he kept your gaze for a beat. Moving to dampen the towel, he followed it with his eyes. He shrugged, saying, “Not really my thing.”

Your stomach dropped at his simple dismissal. Under your breath you said, “Oh.” 

You kept watching Tech as he brought the towel back to your chest. When it came time to wipe your breast, Tech found your gaze again. He flattened his hand under the cloth and ran his whole hand over your breast, his thumb catching on your nipple.

A brazen surg hit you and you pushed, “So, I’m not really your thing?”

Tech pulled back slightly with his hand wiping you. Raising a brow he asked cautiously, “My thing?”

Despite slightly regretting your line of questioning, your fingers fidgeted together as you clarified, “As in, you’re not interested in being with me.”

His wariness faded as he focused back on his work, again rinsing the towel. “That… is not entirely accurate.” He lowered the towel down between your breasts to your stomach. He wore a cocky smile as he said, “Besides, something such as after care requires a more delicate touch.”

You caught his hand before he made it to your navel. “Then what would be entirely accurate?”

Tech looked up through his goggles, his lip pulling to the side as he weighed what to say next. He wanted to make sure he was indeed being entirely accurate as he confessed, “I’m not interested in being with you in the company of others.”

His insinuation caught you off guard. Sitting a little more upright, your angled your head for a better view of those brown eyes. “So… you do want me?”

Tech’s head sagged slightly as he deadpanned. “Well, of course I do.” In your surprise, you released Tech’s hand and allowed him to finish wiping you down.

Steeling yourself against the warmth following his touch, you prodded further, “What if it was just you and I?”

Missing the subtlety behind you question, Tech simply replied, “That would be different for me.”

“It’s just you and I now, Tech,” You reminded him, voice barely above a whisper.

He was mid rinse when he heard you. The thought caused him to pause only for a moment before he wrung the towel out and turned back to you. Tech didn’t move to touch you. Instead, he muttered, “I did consider that, but I was not certain such an arrangment would interest you.”

Unable to let the chance pass, you grabbed Tech’s wrist again and flat out admitting, “It very much interests me.”

His attention fell to your hold on him for a moment. Gently he pulled out of your hand, moving the cool towel between your legs. Leaning closer as the fabric met your skin, Tech asked, “Does it interest you right now?”

“Well, of course it does.” You repeated his words in an impression of him. He hadn’t anticipated the sudden playfulness in your voice, but it brought a small smile to Tech.

Carefully, he wiped you clean, noting the movement in your face as he found every sensitive bit. When he was satisifed with his work, Tech set all the items he brought on the floor. He sat in front of you, one leg over the side of the bunk, and adjusted his goggles as he took in the full view of you. “You are beautiful," He marveled.

You got to your knees and scooted closer. With bated breath you asked what you've wanted to for weeks, “Can I kiss you?”

Tech blinked once, then twice before responding, “Given the circumstances, that wouldn’t be unwarranted.” There was a hint of sarcasm in his voice that forced a smile from you.

Your reaction pulled a mirrored smile from Tech that had crawling into his lap. With no restraint, you moved in to kiss him. Pecking him with feverish kisses, Tech quickly relaxed into your rhythm to deepen the sensation. It seemed he'd been waiting just as long as you.

His hands slid around to your back and tugged you against him. You held Tech’s face in your hands and ran your tongue across his bottom lip. It took little coaxing for Tech to give you access to his mouth, eagerly meeting your tongue with his.

You sat intertwined, blissfully lost in the taste of each other and comfortable in each other’s hold. Tech hardened beneath you and the angle your were sat on Tech had your crotch directly against his. The realization hit you both at the same time as started moving against one another.

The friction of his blacks made the pressure between your legs that much more mind numbing. Moaning into your kiss, you retreated a fraction with Tech chasing your lips. “Get out of this.” You managed to say.

Tech straightened himself while keeping you in his lap and his mouth on yours. Without breaking away from you, he peeled out of his blacks. Only when he couldn’t budge them farther did Tech pull away. You both were desperate for air, but more desperate for each other.

Dodging Tech’s hands, you helped him the rest of the way out of the clothing and hurried back into his lap. Tech leaned back against the bed post when you were saddled on top of him. With Tech’s assistance you raised yourself over him. The natural curve of his cock allowed you to line up with him without your hands. 

You tried to lower yourself, but Tech’s hand on your ass held you in place. “May I record this?”

Without question you nodded. After he tapped the side of his goggles, he returned your nod and released his hold on you. 

As soon as he eased up you sunk onto him. The sudden fullness of him immediately brightening your smile. Tech firmed his grip on your back, pulling you and your clit against his abdomen. “I’d like you to start slow.”

You gave in to his request, supporting yourself on his shoulders as you patiently rolled your hips. He had you pressed against him in a way that constantly stimulated you, sending more warmth between your legs. When he felt what it did to you, heard his name on your tongue, he started moving beneath you, saying almost in warning, “I’m going to move faster.”

Tech was stronger than you'd imagined, effortlessly sliding you over him and thrusting into you from below. The pace at which you moved against each other, completely intertwined, quickly sent you into delirium. He pressed against you in every way, against the walls of your pussy and the ache in your clit. By the grip you had on Tech, there was no hiding your rising ecstasy.

“That-” Tech grunted out, leaning you further so you were completely against him. “Must feel good.” His tone was confident, arrogant even and it made you want to fuck him until he couldn’t speak.

Still, your new position gave Tech the leverage he needed to find your G-spot. As he grazed it, you cried out his name, encouraging him to maintain that specific angle. “Tech! Keep going right there, please.” Your encouragement ended in pleading.

Doing exactly as you asked, Tech held you in place and drilled into you. Keeping a careful, steady rhythm that in moments took you right to the edge of an orgasm and shoved you right over.

You couldn’t speak as you shook in Tech’s arms. Every inch of you quaked as a softer wave of heat spread through you. Lolling against Tech, he held you close and he rocked you both forward.

Still seated inside you, Tech rested you onto your back with your legs hooked behind him. Turning your cheek with a kiss, Tech exposed your neck. He pumped into you while he trailed kisses to your ear.

“This is the only way I’ll have you.” Tech purred into your ear. You locked your ankles and pulled Tech deeper inside you. Tech noticably throbbed and chuckled softly, “That is not going to help me last.”

You used your legs as leverage to move over him, humming, “Good, I don’t want you to.”

Tech pulled back to flash you smirk. “In that case…” He rested a elbow by your head, held you by your waist and pulled out to thrust back into you. “I’m already close. You need to tell me where you want me.”

Feeling him deep inside you made it an easy decision. You pressed him with another kiss as you said, “Inside.”

Tech rocked hard into you, thoroughly filling you as he came inside you. The two of you settled into each other, spent and panting through mutual trembling. 

“Well,” Tech took a deep breath and pushed up over you. “Let’s get cleaned up.”

After all the heat died down and you were all in fresh clothes, you laid out on your cot with an arm over your eyes. In their respective cots, Crosshair and Echo lounged on the edge of sleep while Wrecker and Hunter and Tech were quietly chatting.

Before the night ended you had one last relentless question.

Popping up on an elbow, you looked towars the still awake men. “Hunter?” You singled out the leader. Once you caught his eye you asked, “What caused all that?” The silence that fell pulled a suspicious smile from you.

With his back to you, Crosshair snorted, broadening your smile. You laughed and asked again, “What?” 

Wrecker groaned, rolling his head back. “It was the regs.”

Echo immediately perked up, twisting to exchange a look with you. “What about them?” Echo asked warily.

Hunter sighed, “Jesse told us about how they used to…” He took a deep breath and rolled his hand as he continued, “Make you happy, let’s say.”

“And Echo knew.” Wrecker grumbled.

“Wait-” You and Echo tried interjecting, but Tech cut in.

“Not to mention you said how you wouldn’t get any sleep with them.”

When the dots connected for you, you covered your mouth, hung open, with a hand but couldn’t back the laugh that bubbled out of you. 

From his cot, Echo covered his face with a groan, “Oh, no.”

Even Crosshair now sat up, exchanging confused looks with Tech, Wrecker, and Hunter.

Crosshair glanced at you and with an annoyed undertone he asked, “What?” He clearly did not like being on the outside of whatever you and Echo knew.

You shook your head and couldn’t fully answer through your laughter. “I never…”

Echo waved his prosthetic in the direction of the wall shared with the 501st. “We never did any of that. Jesse was just getting under your skin.” He groaned again, looking upwards and  begging the Force for help. Gesturing in your direction he added, “And we wouldn’t get any sleep because they’d never stop yapping.”

You took deep breaths to settle down as Crosshair started chuckling. 

“In retrospect, that is the more plausible option.” Tech said, shocked Jesse got the better of him. 

Collapsing on your bunk, you called out warmly, “For the record, I am much happier as a part of this squad.”

Crosshair got the last word in, scoffing the last of his humor away, “Better be.”

taglist: @bruh-myguy-what @baddest-batchers @psychrebel I hope specifically hope this makes you happy

[melaninpov]

John Boyega in Mens Health

[hollyskywalker]

"We just got married."

"We did."

Anakin sat on the edge of the bed and she moved at stand in between his legs, absentmindedly caressing the soft skin of his cheek, lost in thought whilst staring so softly at him he felt he could melt.

She seemingly snapped back to reality and a wide grin spread across her face.

"Maker, we just got married Ani!"

She quickly launched at him, tackling him to the bed knocking the breath out of him but he felt a smile forming on his own face at her delighted laugh in his neck as she clung to him.

Carefully she moved off him and laid down on her side, Anakin doing the same facing her.

"Anakin Skywalker," she smiled adoringly "My husband."

He reached out with his hand to brush her hair out of her face, leaning forward to rest his forehead against hers.

He whispered her name with reverence, and it felt almost unreal how much love he felt for her, "My wife."

[meshla-cyarika]

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕣𝕚𝕕𝕚𝕟𝕘 𝕥𝕙𝕖 𝕤𝕠𝕦𝕟𝕕𝕨𝕒𝕧𝕖 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕤𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕒𝕟𝕥 𝕙𝕦𝕟𝕥𝕖𝕣

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ꜱᴇʀɢᴇᴀɴᴛ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ᴡʜᴇʀᴇ ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ʀᴇᴀʟɪᴢᴇꜱ ʜᴏᴡ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ʜɪꜱ ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴀꜰꜰᴇᴄᴛꜱ ʏᴏᴜ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ, ᴠᴇʀʏ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴘᴏʀɴ ᴡɪᴛʜᴏᴜᴛ ᴘʟᴏᴛ, ꜰᴇʀᴀʟ+ʜᴏʀɴʏ ʙᴇʜᴀᴠɪᴏʀ, ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴘʀᴀᴄᴛɪᴄᴀʟʟʏ ɪɴ ʜᴇᴀᴛ, ᴠᴏɪᴄᴇ ᴋɪɴᴋ, ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴀɴᴛᴀꜱɪᴇꜱ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ʀᴇꜱᴏʟᴠᴇᴅ ꜱᴇxᴜᴀʟ ᴛᴇɴꜱɪᴏɴ, ʜᴜɴᴛᴇʀ ɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏ ꜱᴇxʏ ꜰᴏʀ ʜɪꜱ ᴏᴡɴ ɢᴏᴏᴅ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴜʀʙᴀᴛɪᴏɴ, ɢʀɪɴᴅɪɴɢ, ᴍɪʟᴅ ɢᴏʀᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇꜱᴄʀɪᴘᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴡᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ, ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʀᴇɢʀᴇᴛ ɴᴏᴛʜɪɴɢ ʟᴍᴀᴏ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 9.1ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

➼ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ☆ ᴄʀᴜꜱʜ - ᴇᴛʜᴇʟ ᴄᴀɪɴ, ᴍᴏᴏɴꜱᴛʀᴜᴄᴋ - ᴇɴʜʏᴘᴇɴ

⋆ ★ … ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴛᴏᴏᴋ, ᴀɴᴅ ɪ ᴀᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴇxᴀɢɢᴇʀᴀᴛɪɴɢ, ᴀ ꜰᴜʟʟ ʏᴇᴀʀ ᴛᴏ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜ. ɪ ʙᴇɢᴀɴ ɪᴛ ᴛʜᴇ ʙᴇɢɪɴɴɪɴɢ ᴏꜰ ᴊᴜʟʏ ᴏꜰ 2023 ᴀɴᴅ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴘᴜᴛᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴏꜰꜰ ꜰᴏʀ ᴏᴛʜᴇʀ ᴘʀᴏᴊᴇᴄᴛꜱ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴡᴏʀᴋɪɴɢ ᴏɴ ɪᴛ ɪᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ɢᴇᴛᴛɪɴɢ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ᴜʜʜʜ ᴏᴏᴘꜱ ɪᴛꜱ ᴀʟᴍᴏꜱᴛ 10ᴋ ᴡᴏʀᴅꜱ. ᴀʟꜱᴏ, ʏᴇᴀʜ, ɪ'ᴍ ɴᴏᴛ ᴅᴇᴀᴅ. ʏᴀʏ? ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ.

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

Despite the gradual (yet quite quick, in retrospect) increment of your feelings toward the skilled soldier, you do, in fact, notice the blunt sexual appeal of Hunter when you first meet Clone Force 99.

It’s difficult not to; with his long hair you can’t quite place how the Kaminoans allow him to have, the striking skull tattoo, his toned body, and discernable shape even through the heavy armor, you can’t help but flutter your eyelashes and rock your feet back and forth like you’re a schoolgirl all over again. Hunter is the Bad Batch’s essential leader, the closest in appearance to the rivaled ‘regs,’ leading them as their Sergeant and CT-9901, and he stands out more than any other clone you’ve interacted with.

His warm, welcoming, yet slightly wary smile is just as firm as the handshake he gives you when you first meet him, leaning down a little to your height (you’d think clone defects would be the same height, or maybe even shorter than a veritable trooper, but instead you feel enveloped by his vertical. Not that you don’t enjoy the feeling, of course) and nodding firmly.

Then you hear his voice.

It’s only a short sentence; a brief introduction and warm gratitude for joining them as their medic before you acquaint yourself with the rest of the squad. But your ears wrap around the waves of his rough, musky baritone like a magnet. Everything feels as though it’s finally clicked into place and created the perfect picture of your desired man.

Your mind immediately begins to create dreamy rhetoric, wondering silly things to yourself.

Had your mind been aimlessly wandering the galaxy for this long, circling like materials until you finally found an opposite —An opposite so charmingly rugged?

The feeling that rushes through you feels so destined.

Lucky for you, Hunter seems to express his commands frequently with his voice; sometimes hushed through a link, the vibrations of your comm humming pleasantly between the soft undersides of your fingers as he talks.

It always during the times when you’re deep past enemy lines, taking down clankers more efficiently than a Starfleet. Initially too, as you were still trying to memorize their master list of designated plans and being weighed down by the extra weight of regulation armor.

“Don’t go through there yet. Squad of clankers waiting for us.”

“You sure, Hunter? I don’t hear any steps.”

“Take it from the person with enhanced hearing, little medic. Just wait for me.”

Other times when he speaks to you, it’s thunderous commands; ones that he yells out across a field or war front. It frightens you at first, your shoulders jolting and hands instinctively clamping over your ears to deafen the noise, but you quickly realize he’s ordering you to act. Once you get used to the intensity, you come to equally enjoy and indulge how his voice takes on a new edge in fleeting moments of urgency and demand; a once blissful burning of wood turning into threatening crackles, and from there a bleeding forest fire.

“Wrecker, move in! Now, now! Crosshair, how’s the bird's view looking?”

It’s incredibly embarrassing how something as simple as his voice can leave you this breathless. Even from the snide comments he can’t seem to help himself from saying when Wrecker retells stories to you, either from their days as shinies and cadets to missions where you stayed back on the Marauder. Between Tech’s rambling and Wrecker’s enthusiastic narration, the sound of Hunter’s voice becomes even more of a calming sedative to you.

Though it equally arouses you in other moments.

How his morning voice is somehow even lower and raspier than his regular tone is a study that must be researched and conducted by only the galaxy’s best scientists. It seems just so impossible, unbelievable; none of it is inauthentic either—the grogginess is always equally spread through his body, from his tired slouch and ruffled hair, lolling eyes, the unkempt composition of the clothes hung over his broad shoulders and slim waist. It’s unspoken the things you might do if you felt there was even the slimmest chance of starting your every day with that sound so deep and lovely right in your ear.

When he addresses you directly before you both allow yourself the time to sleep, asking you to check on old injuries or patch up new ones he got on the last mission. He always manages to get hurt in the most menial yet bothersome ways, and you’re once again forced into close proximity; you’re beginning to consider paying a few scientists and investigators to study the sexy phenomenon that is Hunter. But either way, you sit legs crossed at the ankles in the cockpit, forcing yourself to zone out on anything he might be saying every few minutes so you don’t have to squirm and change your position in your seat every so often and prevent showing how damn flustered and hot he makes you; in more places than just your cheeks and ears.

In flitting moments you get time to relish in his conjured wavelength, take in the scene you can create with just the sound of his voice; he transports you to a world of the dark morning fog, the red of his bandana the most vibrant sight in your nearest vision as he takes you on the forest floor just like that, no civil thoughts daring to come to each of your minds as he finally gives you the relief you crave for in real life.

Your depraved fantasy of Hunter is all you can dream of when you sit yourself on your fingers, holding back as many of the impoverished whines you wish to let out due to your true desperation for such an attractive man.

And the sweet indulgences you luxuriate in make you selfish. You want more, need to know how he’d sound grunting, moaning your name while his cock lay on your tongue. Or how the oscillations of his words feel on your inner thighs, against your clit when he pushes his fingers past your tight barrier. There’s much more you could learn, could explore if you could attempt an advance. Or simply given something more than slight moments of suggestion that he might have the same deviant desires as you to allow the green light.

You’ve yet to receive such signals. And flimsy fantasies, the work of your fingers to chase unattainable pleasure, and insistent memorization of his voice can only keep you quenched for so long.

-

“Hunter,” The inadvertent, pathetic whine crawls up your throat the moment you feel his breath on your neck, lingering over your skin even as he pulls back after hearing the noise you make.

“Just a little more,” He reassures you. The hand not firmly gripping your wrist pats your shoulder, and your cheeks flush at the passing fondness. “Let’s try to get one more shot on target and we’ll call it quits, how does that sound?”

With the warmth of your flushed face spreading to the rest of your body, you mutter,

“Sounds good,”

and try to softly shake off your arousal, eyes zeroing in on the middle of the tree, the finger hovering over the trigger surprisingly still. You’re about to take the shot before he starts instructing you again.

“Fix your foot stance,” Hunter gently guides your legs apart with one of his own, fixing the positioning of your feet planted onto the dirt and you take in a deeper breath than you intend to. The fire kindle of his voice and the fire kindle of your core are equal matches now; the husk of his chunked honey tone will certainly turn you to mush if he continues any further, it feels.

Really, how does this oblivious, heart-seizing bastard expect you to keep your focus on this pointless shooting practice when he’s got you this compromised?

“Try again now,” he says after he’s got you in the position he wants. You huff again, letting the fiery stimulation fall to your diaphragm, and breathe down your arousal. Just one hit on the target and you’ll be free of this torture.

But as you lift your arm again, eyes narrowing closer and closer to your prize, the imminent feeling of his leg between yours rears its head. You become so incredibly, annoyingly aware of it, and grimace, biting your lip softly and knitting your eyebrows together to fully get him out of your mind and body. You tug on your bottom lip and pull the trigger.

The bullet lands left side.

A deep groan of frustration leaves you; it sounds much quieter with Hunter’s rumble and grunt in your ear. You gently pull away from his grasp, handing him the blaster, and turn to face him directly. And when you catch that damned expression you promptly decide that you don’t like to see him disappointed; at least, it looks as though he’s disappointed. Eyebrows pinched together with the smallest frown, his chin curled into himself as he looks down at you (Maybe you should look into research for lawyers in the case of when you sue Hunter for the neck pain he’s caused).

“It’s alright,” He assures you, but it doesn’t feel right. And from the way he looks at you, it’s not alright.

“No, it isn’t,” You tell him exactly that, your fingers curling and interlocking together by your stomach. His eyes dart down for a brief moment of scanning, and they don’t linger too long; Maker, you wish you had the power for your eyes not to glue to him and his absolute stature instantly when you enter a space. “I should be better at this by now.”

Hunter clicks his tongue and turns away, as if deep in swirling thought. His gaze comes back to you before you know it.

“You should be,” He agrees, but nothing is degrading or critical in his voice. In his eyes, the wave of gentleness that cascades and shifts his expression, there’s unconditional empathy that you do not deserve and he wouldn’t grace you with if he were to know what you beg him to do to you in your dreams.

“We can try again,” You then insist, but Hunter quickly shakes his head.

“We’ve been working on this for an hour,” He tells you, slickly spinning the blaster back into his holster. He sounds tired as well, a new jaggedness in the smoke tendrils of his voice. “That’s more than enough practice.”

“But I just want to–”

“I know.”

Somehow, those words are more devastating than anything else he’s said. You look back and catch the mysterious glint in his eye, almost as elusive as his words might connotate on a foggy day.

“Trust me,” He continues. You don’t even realize his hand has wandered and softly taken your chin between two fingers until you feel the soft pads brush against your skin; your jaw slacks. He pinches your chin a little tighter to ensure your eyes are fixed on him. “You just want to prove yourself.”

Well, of course, you think to yourself vindictively. It’s enough that you feel ever-so-slightly out of place in a squad of clone troopers, let alone defective ones; not being able to properly handle a blaster in the mere presence of your crush is even more embarrassing. How juvenile.

“We can try again another time. But you’re tired. I can feel it,” He continues. There’s the slightest hint of gentleness you only pick up on because of how you hone all your focus on dissecting and admiring every single crevice of his articulations. Suddenly, he drops your chin, and your head lolls back into place, rather sloppily, and you look up through your eyelashes. “Time for us to sleep, I think.”

With that, Hunter whips around and heads toward the ramp to the Marauder. You’re left there with a smarting jaw, discreetly trying to rub your legs together and take the heat out of the area.

“Alright,” You sigh, glancing around before trotting after him, the white noise keeping your thoughts off of the man in front of you.

Yet, you still picture what his knee had felt like parting your thighs open only half an hour later. Attempting to recreate it with your arm and then your pillow, you give yourself a foggy release and whimper a jumbled version of his name into your pillow before drifting off, body still buzzing with frustration.

-

The next week, as if the weeks and months before weren’t as excruciating, is pure sexual torture. Not to say it’s entirely filled with frustration and dull aching, however. When you and Hunter have a moment of silence, alone by the cots or the engine or the cockpit together, you both relax into the same, comfortable silence that fills the time.

It’s better to have him not running his mouth off, for sure. You still have to deal with it on deployments and missions, but it’s manageable when you’re knocking down clankers or trying to listen to Tech’s very confusing instructions on how to fly the plane to a certain location to pick them up. But he’s allowing the silence to fester between you two. All the better to preserve the actual sweet, steady relationship you have aside from your fiery attraction, you think.

Hey, it could be worse.

But then the dumbass decides to get himself injured. Get pushed into and dragged against hard durasteel, leaving a gash across his stomach that could challenge Wrecker’s spiderweb scars in its damage. Your jaw practically drops when they return and you see the wound out in the open; you can’t stop yourself before you lurch forward with worried eyes and grasp his wrist around your fingers, pushing him down onto a bench.

As Tech pilots the ship off the planet, the rest all recline and lick their minuscule wounds beside him, while you and Hunter remain cramped in the back, avoiding his gaze and praying to the Maker that he keeps his voice to quiet rough grunts of pain as you try to unclip each different plate of his armor and lay them neatly beside him, tutting when more of his wound is revealed to you.

”Oh my goodness, oh my goodness ohmygoodness,” You stammer to yourself, more and more strained with each breath you take, peeling off the tarnished fabric of his blacks.

“It’s not too bad,” He argues with a soft grin, which slowly fades away when you glare.

“Don’t,” You retort, firm and simple, flashing a genuine look of empathy, and even a drip of fear. If you didn’t know any better, you might think Hunter practically melts under your look with how he slumps and his expression droops. But he’s still an oblivious, sexy fool, you remind yourself.

You don’t even have the energy to fawn over how incredibly attractive he sounds with the rough baritone and anguished sigh-like tone he wears; you instead scramble to open the first aid kit. You can feel his gaze set selectively on you and it doesn’t help. In the corner of your eye, he tilts his head.

“Is everything alright?”

You nod automatically.

“Everything is fine.”

The Marauder jostles in rough air; the ship tilts, your stomach dropping with the altitude change, and you’re unwantedly yanked onto Hunter’s lap with a yelp.

You still for a moment, waiting for the ship to steady again before you become acutely aware of how your chest is almost completely pressed up onto his face. And how your knees are caged over his thighs, your pelvis way too close to his wound for each of your comfort. And pressure against your waist, not too firm but still weighting you to his body–wait, is Hunter holding you to him?

Your eyes widen and you stumble off, stammering nonsensically and afraid to gaze upon his face. You don’t for a long moment, before grabbing the disinfectant and pouring it onto a cloth. 

Silence festers between the two of you. When Hunter does speak, it’s not to you.

“Tech! Get her steady, would you?” He yells across the ship, vexed and evidently not in an ideal mood. Tech immediately retorts in his typical, inappropriately casual, intellectual tone,

“That is not a light request, Hunter. I am already trying.”

Hunter scoffs and you finally get the gall to look at him. He exchanges a mutual look of annoyance and manages to grin wider for you. The sight soothes your frayed ends ever so slightly, and you stare down at his stomach again at the wound, biting your lip as you inspect the damage.

Your hands come to the hem of his blacks and you give him a silent ask with your eyes.

“Is it alright if I take this off?”

He hums, which you take as a yes, and you slowly peel it off of his skin, trying very, very hard to ensure your stare doesn’t linger. He looks at you with a mysterious gaze that's too hard to place for your liking. But you just try and shake it off as you slowly dab his wound with the bacta-dipped cloth, pressing it firm against the injury.

When he hisses, you perk up with wide eyes.

“Did that hurt?”

Hunter clenches his teeth and nods slowly, and you pull away with shaky hands. His arms reach out, encircling his fingers around your wrist, and guides them back tenderly.

“It’s alright,” He says, his tone dropping down an octave as your hands tremble again in his grasp. You gain the courage to look up at him, biting your lip softly. The grin he wears manages to soothe your nerves, just a little. “I’ve got you, girl. Just let me guide you so you don’t hurt me.”

You let out a shaky exhale of relief, and he sighs, dipping his chin down, but keeping the intense eye contact.

“How does that sound?”

“Good,” You squeak, the rise and fall of your chest the only constant managing to soothe your fried senses. After a couple of breaths, you finish your thought. “Better.” You press onto a side of his wound, softly spreading the bacta onto it; your eyes don’t separate from his once. “How’s that?”

He huffs, not of frustration or annoyance, but more a comforting relief.

"Fine. Keep going."

The rasp stirs between the space between the two of you, and you take a deep breath before you can do anything else.

With the firm grasp on your wrists and the low tendrils of his voice softly directing you, you continue to tend to his wound, your hands moving deftly over his skin. The thick, intoxicating tension in the air is palpable; the lingering silence between you weighs heavy despite your best attempts to snap yourself out of it and take care of him like you're supposed to.

It's not your fault he just sounds so damn sexy all the time.

"Careful, careful," He tuts when you're stitching up a particularly bad spot, pressing your fingers around the skin and holding it there as you thread the stitch through. "Just a little gentler, please."

Then, "Avoid that spot, please. I can't even-- shit -- breathe without it hurting. Just stitch around it. Yeah, just like that. Good job, little medic," As you're finishing up.

Once you finish wrapping the bandage firmly over the wound and around his waist, taping it firmly to him, he dislodges his fingers from where it's wrapped around your wrist, bringing it to your chin and manhandling you slightly to get a better look into your eyes.

"See, ‘wasn't so bad, was it?" He flashes you a grin, obviously masking the pain etching into his limbs, all to calm your nerves. The fact that he's making such a constant effort to make you feel better despite his state makes you positively soft. "You did great."

You grin back, nodding and averting your eyes.

"Thank you."

There's a pause before he bludgeons you with his next sentence.

"You enjoy getting instructions."

Your eyes widen; you almost drop the first aid kit; everything stills, your chest tight as you process his words. Shit, what the fuck?

What the fuck?

"Wh--What?" You stammer,  taking a small step backward and tilting your head to appear more confused and insulted by the accusation. Maybe if you appear offended, he’ll take it back. "Who said that?"

"You don’t need to say it. I can feel it," He continues, gaze thoughtfully fixated on you. He doesn't even falter when you seem to panic. "I can see it." You try to gawk at him to make him feel stupid, make him retract what he's saying, but either he's so certain or you don't seem very convincing. 

No matter; you're still fucked. 

"You like getting told what to do."

Your heart pounds, and Hunter just sits there, legs spread leisurely, his eyebrow slightly raised in expectation. Seriously, what does he expect you to answer with? Does he want you to fess up and admit how depraved and desperate you are for his touch, then run off mortified to never speak to him again? Surely he doesn’t expect you to take.

Defeated, you sigh and softly run your hands over your work again, avoiding his burning gaze.

"Only from you," you mutter, then immediately pray devotedly to the Maker he doesn't hear. Hunter hums, a tone of question in his voice, then you proceed to figuratively jump off a cliff as you remember this fucker has enhanced senses.

"Why’s that, mesh’la?" He asks. Instinctively, your eyebrows knit together when the new nickname graces your ears.

"What does mesh’la mean?"

Hunter doesn't seem very phased. Can't you just throw him off his rhythm once?

"Don’t worry about that," He quickly excuses your question as a distraction from the question at hand. "But tell me why you only enjoy getting instructions from me." 

There's something smug to the way he talks, hidden behind insistent concern and curiosity. 

"Why’s that, tell me."

Your hand comes up to hide your face, but he takes it and keeps it away from disfiguring his view of your expression. You want to babble; you can feel your face heating up. Instead, you frown.

"I, uh," You try to discreetly rub your thighs together languidly, easing the tension and buildup of heat in between them. A huff leaves his lips that sounds oddly close to a chuckle.

"Come on," You lift your head, perplexed for a split moment, but then he pats the top of his thigh. You blink once, then twice, then another time for good measure, just to make sure you're seeing correctly. Is he... what's he even implying? 

"Sit down. On my lap."

Oh. That’s what.

Your mouth opens, a strange sound bordering on a choke leaving your throat as you try to retort or deny him. He only raises his eyebrows and dips his chin down, gesturing toward his lap again.

You huff, eyebrows knitted, and take a small step toward him, slowly, and you envelop his figure, trapping his legs between your knees and careening slightly, hands still meeting at your stomach, unsure of where to move. He nods encouragingly.

“Good job, just like that,” He praises you, hands slowly rising to rest on the handles of your hips, fingers tracing your waist. You take a sharp intake of breath, eyes drifting down to where your bodies meet, and look back up at him again. Hunter’s wearing this oh-so-innocent, deer-in-headlights expression you know is bantha-shit. “What’s got you so hot and bothered?”

You sough vindictively, averting your eyes.

“Stop teasing me.”

He laughs— though it’s more of a snarky, yet affectionate chuckle. You feel so naked in his presence, given such focused, vehement attention.

“I’m not teasing. Just concerned,” He tells you. The problem is, Hunter does well making you think he’s actually this clueless when he does know and just wants to hear it from your lips.

“Mhm,” You hum sarcastically with a pout.

He manages to grin at you, the corners of his eyes scrunching up as he looks at you. You let your eyes come back to him.

“I can do both, can’t I?” He offers.

“Sure,” You retort.

Squinting his eyes, he casually rubs his hands up and down the sides of your body.

“I’ll figure it out, one way or another,” He affirms, ending the sentence with a wink; you take a deep breath, letting your jaw slack. Hunter keeps talking like there’s nothing thick in the air between you.

“Put your hands on my shoulders.”

You furrow your eyebrows; he pouts like an upset child. Chastising, you huff and do as he says. When your hands shake slightly, he continues giving you instructions. They are so simple, yet they seem so alluring and nuanced in this context. In his voice.

”Steady yourself. Yeah, like that. Good.”

You wiggle your hips slightly, and something boils in his stomach slightly, something bordering on a groan. Your legs are warming up but you have no way to close them and satiate yourself. So all you can do is squirm.

Hunter perks up in concern.

“Are you comfortable?”

You take a moment to respond but then nod.

“Good.” Hunter grins softly, patting your left hip. For a moment, he decides to rake his eyes over you appreciatively, almost in the same way you do when you assume he isn’t looking. “I’m glad.”

Offering a civil smile of mutual understanding, you wiggle your hips, trying to find a better position if you’re going to be compromised on his lap.

”Trail your hands down for me.”

It's hard to deny or disobey him with a voice like that, especially when you know it’s directed toward you. So you slowly let your hands slip from his shoulders and descend his chest and torso.

“Yeah, down,” He encourages you when you reach the top of his wrapped wound. “Maybe try to avoid the gash.” 

You lift your hands and let only the pads of your fingers place feather-light touches over the wrapping. When your hands begin to tremble again the further you descend, reaching his pelvis, he tuts to stop you. “That’s a good place to stop.”

You look up again with wide eyes, trying to stop your erratic (embarrassing) trembles and tilt your head. There’s more he’s going to say. At least it seems so.

“Whenever you’re ready, put your hand over my crotch.” He gives you a soft look of reassurance, making sure you’re completely comfortable in this position, before finishing. “I want you to feel me.”

Gasping softly, you pull your hand away, fingers curling into your palm and gripping tightly. A shiver runs through you, and you can’t seem to figure out if it’s from shock or pleasure.

“What?” You begin, eyes flitting from his face and back. “H-Hunter, I shouldn’t.”

“I’m asking you to.” Polite insistence is the game he plays. If this truly is a trap, you might happily fall if it means you get to touch him. He runs his hands over your curves again. “I want you to.”

You tense further, something bordering on fear in your eyes. Hunter notices and frowns while he clarifies:

“Unless you don’t want it. ‘Cause then… we can stop. No hard feelings…”

You can see how he’s getting lost in his thoughts. For a split moment, that perfect composure he holds in your presence fractures; he seems insecure and nervous; anticipating inevitable rejection because he’s pushed you too far.

That isn’t the case.

As you finally press your palm to his bulge, you contain your gasp. He’s big. And so hard.

“Fuck,” He groans, head tilting back. “Feel that?”

Oh kriff, that rumble. It’s warm and smooth yet rough all the same, creeping its way over your skin until you’re forced to keep the faintest whimper from leaving your throat. You string your lips tight and nod.

“Mhm,” Is the only thing that manages to leave your mouth, whiny and soft. You palm him further, as if the fabric would simply tear away and you could finally feel his skin on yours. He hums again, and you’re left looking doe-eyed in his direction. “Shit, Hunter.”

He throws a heavy statement onto you.

“It’s my voice, isn’t it?”

You tilt your head up, containing the urge to gasp.

“What?” 

“What’s making you so hot and bothered,” He continues. You want to look away, hide your face in your hands with humiliating embarrassment, but you’re trembling so much on top of him that you can’t even flit your eyes away. “You like my voice. And you like it when I tell you what to do.”

You gasp lightly when you feel his warm hand on your thigh. Your cunt twitches and it really shouldn’t. He’s barely doing anything. 

“Well,” he continues, raising an eyebrow. “Are you going to deny it?”

The answer is delivered non-verbally. You relax into his lap, palm pressing further to his bulge, and then you squeeze oh so gently. That heavenly groan graces your ears and you devoutly catalog it into your mind for later recollection.

His chin dips down to catch a glimpse of your hand before he meets your eyes.

“Mesh’la,” he says; even without knowing what it means, just hearing how he speaks with such beguile and worship tells all that you need to know. “Mesh’la… can you do something for me?”

“Yeah. Of course. Anything,” You stammer out with a slack jaw, far too enthusiastic. Hunter doesn’t seem to regard it as anything distorting the absolute utmost respect that he must feel while he has you in his lap with your hand on his dick.

“Slip your pants off.”

It’s practically instinctual how efficiently you gingerly push yourself off of his lap and follow his order. With your hands chastely placed above your waistband, you let your thumbs push past, then await Hunter to grant you to pull them off. His eyes dilate with the view, and he nods.

The pants find their way to the ground clumsily, and you cringe internally at your lack of grace, but when you finally catch sight of Hunter’s expression, perhaps it’s nothing to worry about.

He looks… starved. Hypnotized by the splendor in front of him, for his eyes and his hands and his body only to touch, feel, hold, take.

“You’re… fuck,” he sighs, sounding out of breath, as though you’d just swept his leg and taken him off his feet. His hand methodically strokes up and down his thigh, only lightly grazing the tent in his pants as he takes his eyes over how you look, over and over again. 

“You’re stunning,” he finally manages to say. His hand stops stroking to pat his thigh lightly, and his voice simmers in a way you know is on purpose. “C’mere, sit on my lap again.”

“Are you sure?” You ask for permission despite rocking your feet back and forth to shimmy your way back. As you gesture toward the bandages wrapped around his middle, Hunter huffs and frowns with miffed frustration. “You’re still injured.”

Hunter gripes to himself as he pushes himself up, placing his hands on your hips and pulling you to the free space between his two hard, firm thighs. His dexterity surprises you. The warmth radiating from his body does even more.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything in my life.”

Oh.

Shit.

He looks the part, certainly; you only try to feel the faintest tremble of his fingers when his hands float away from your hips to sit on the top of his legs again, 

“Okay,” You mutter aimlessly, reaching up to your face to brush your hair away in a measly attempt to look more presentable. Your voice is just a squeaky little thing, and it’s so incredibly humiliating. “Okay…”

“It’s alright,” Hunter tries to soothe you, and you breathe shallowly.

“I know that.” Your tongue runs over your bottom lip and you heave. “I just…”

Before you’re able to process what’s happening, Hunter’s reaching a hand out to cup your face. Despite the coarseness of his skin, his callouses fall on your cheek, it’s so tender, and you melt into his touch.

“Do you need some guidance, little medic?”

With a slight whine, you nod, letting your lashes flutter. Hunter lets his thumb swipe over your bottom lip, and your mouth parts. He grins at your unprompted compliance.

“Then let me tell you what to do. Let me tell you how to touch yourself and make you come from that, and my voice too.”

A depraved noise is choked out of you.

“Fuck,” your head careens to the side, but his firm hold on the side of your face keeps your gaze on him. His grin turns more into a cheeky smirk.

“How does that sound?” He asks. You nod adamantly before he tries to change his mind, so worried that he’ll push you away at any moment. As though he can read your mind, the hand that was still on the back of your thigh takes a gentle squeeze before trailing up your body, taking appreciative feels of your ass and hips before settling on your waist again.

“Mm…” You hum, reveling in the sensation.  “Really good.”

Hunter gives you a half-crooked smile, and you want to cuss him out, or yourself, you’re not sure who to be fed up with.

“Come on, little medic,” He urges you on, patting your hip. “Slip your hand down your panties.”

Wordlessly, you let a trembling hand descend down your body. You have little dignity left in you to try and make yourself appear more seductive, but you hope your image isn’t so repulsive. The moment your fingertips make contact with your heat, your fingers grazing over your mons and clit, your mouth falls open in a silent gasp.

Hunter tilts his head.

“How does it feel? Are you wet?” 

He should know already, smug bastard.

“Yeah,” you nod, keening further into his touch when he tilts his chin down, leaning toward your ear.

He takes a gentle lick, so light that if you weren’t in his grasp you wouldn’t have noticed.

“How wet?”

Your hips instinctively buck to rub yourself over your hand, a rush of arousal washing over you.

“Re–“ You swallow a wad of spit sitting on your tongue. “Really wet.”

Hunter’s lips are gentle when they undulate as he speaks oh so close to your ear, quiet and warm, words just for you.

“Just from my voice?” When he asks this time, you don’t detect much smugness; he wants the confirmation and credibility for a foundation of fact he’s built for himself.

You nod, but add on more. 

“Not just that.”

“Hm?” His dark rumble travels down your spine and you squirm with pleasant upheaval. Your hand is still awkwardly lodged down your panties with nothing to do. 

“Tell me more,” he demands with an assuasive croon. With one last kitten lick that lingers on the shell of your ear, he allows his lips to wander, mouthing against your skin, leaving delicate kisses on your temple, your jaw, and any moles and freckles in his nearest vicinity while he awaits your answer.

“I, uh,” you begin, awaiting to land on a coherent stream of words loosely strung together to fall on your tongue. “your—“

Just as you feel something begin to tie, your gaze drops down. Hunter palms his full erection over his blacks, languidly as though without a care, and the thought of him being aroused by this, aroused by you, slaps your mind into a render less zone.

“—fuck.”

He chuckles right in your damn face, and Maker he’s just too pretty not to kiss. But you resist the temptation with the festering worry of crossing the barrier past simple attraction into affection.

So you swallow slow and hard and try to compose a sentence.

“Your, face—“

Yeah, real eloquent, idiot.

“—That skull tattoo, it’s, well, shit…”

Your tongue wraps around itself again, words becoming more and more hard to piece together the longer you think about it. All that your primal mind begs you to think of is the olympic man presented under you, and the heat that radiates off the both of you.

“Alright now, you don’t have to continue,” Hunter huffs with no real malice contained in his words. It still makes you cringe nonetheless.

“That bad?” You ask with a clenched jaw.

A simple head shake is all you receive, but it’s more than enough to sedate a growing burn in the pit of your stomach. The hand not pressed to his crotch gently holds your hip, thumb swiping over your panties and bare skin; he even dares to let it slip past the waistband. The accurate awareness of your hand pressed to your pussy returns to you.

 “Don’t want you to focus your energy on that,” he clarifies, eyes looking into yours with a softness you’ve never associated with Hunter. You’d find it peculiar in a regular conversation, but everything about this interaction has been anything but normal.

You suddenly realize you’re at a loss again. “So what do you want me to do?” You ask because you feel humiliated just straddling him like this.

Hunter puffs out his chest and you prepare yourself for the worst.

A coarse hand presses to your navel, trailing up underneath your shirt to sketch an image of your body underneath, stopping right where “Rub your pussy for me.” 

It’s worded like a demand, but he voices it as though it’s a request. Your body wants to tense and retract, but the palm spread over the expanse of your stomach prevents you.

“You can do that,” Hunter encourages you, almost as though you were a creature he’s saddled on to ride. Though in this instance, you’d much rather be the one to ride. “Can’t you? For me?”

With a huff, you look away and nod bashfully. It’s wordless when you begin to move your hand, let your fingers get soaked as they rub up and down, up and down… you’re almost too tense to really feel the sensation, but Hunter’s doting gaze and his firm hand on your stomach keep you grounded. As you collect slick, running your fingers through your folds, it takes heavy petting for you to relax your jaw and let out the most pleasantly pathetic whimper.

Hunter groans, adding fuel to the flame flourishing in your pants, a dark sound of thunder rumbling in the sky, forewarning something much more devastating.

“Yeah, just like that,” he encourages you in that same husky tone following the groan. “Rock your hips too.”

You do so diligently, using your palm to press against your clit as a foundation for the rest of your hand to move leisurely while you rock your hips into himself. Hunter’s hand retracts from your stomach, fingers curling into his palms as he lets his knuckles graze against your skin. When you shiver, he takes it as an invitation to shush you gently against your temple, before his hand falls to your waist again.

The moment you glance down, you have to tip your chin back with an ascendant sigh. He’s got his hand over his clothed erection, palming it with a firm hand, almost absentmindedly as he keeps his eyes on you.

“Fuck, Hunter…” The desperate, embarrassing whimper comes out of you far more loud than you intend. Hunter shushes you gently.

“Keep quiet for me,” he commands; how are you meant to be by him when he speaks like that? 

“Good?” He then asks, seemingly seeking approval good enough for him to continue. “Do I sound as good as you imagined?”

You want to say yes, declare it to the entire galaxy, and tell him just how wonderful this man is, but you’re far too overwhelmed by all the pleasurable sensations disrupting your thought process. So instead you nod.

That seems to satisfy Hunter, and the smallest smirk curls on his lips as he watches you squirm and rock your hips into your hands.

“Don’t you as well.” 

With a hum, you try to dismiss the comment. But only as you let it sit does the implication of his words sink to your stomach. But he doesn’t allow you to dwell on it for too long, it seems, as he continues,

“I want you to keep touching yourself. Do whatever you need to for me. Whatever makes you come.”

He pats his incredibly intimidating bulge as though it’s an invitation.

“Right here, on my lap.”

You resist the dizzyness that threatens to overtake your senses, but as you steady your breaths, you suddenly feel so exposed. Far too exposed compared to Hunter. 

So you try to level the playing field.

“Would you… er…”

If only your words could come out correctly. Hunter raises an eyebrow, perked with a cheeky glint in his eye.

“Hm?” He hums.

You grunt and attempt again to tunnel out the words. Like a plow shoveling out snow or sand.

“It—It feels unfair that I’m the only one here getting off.” 

You wince as you finish the sentence. Maker, you sound so clunky and awkward. So much for being seductive.

But Hunter hums with total compliance, letting his hand trail up to where his bottoms cling to his skin.

“‘Guess you’re right.” Slowly, oh-so-slowly, Hunter peels back the waistband of his blacks, letting his hand slip through to free his cock from underneath the garments.

You think you’ve been knocked out for a healthy minute when you get a proper look. You’d never imagine describing a cock as pretty, but just like everything else, Hunter may become an exception. His fingers curl around the base with rather ease, before reaching up with it to his chin. He opens his mouth, letting a wad of spit collect and drop onto his palm, allowing him to stroke his cock with a more slick movement.

Maker, he’s so… so…

No, that can’t be right. His cock is far too thick for his hand to wrap around it so easily. But then you remember his proportions, especially compared to yours. A small chuckle leaves you when you imagine how you might try to wrap a full hand around his length.

Hunter leisurely strokes himself, eyes set on yours with an intensity that makes your stomach leap bounds up to your chest.

“Now it’s more fair, little medic,” he says. “Don’t you think?”

You nod adamantly with no hesitation.

“Yeah, yeah…” Your fingers deftly move to trap your clit between your index and middle, your mouth falling open when you feel the pressure hum over you. “Shit.”

Hunter huffs with a smugly saccharine look, his hand slowly stroking up and down his cock, lingering at the tip before he returns down again.

“You look really good like this.”

You tilt your head and grunt in disbelief. It’s hard to believe him when you feel simultaneously so powerful and so humiliated. Even though he’s just as physically exposed as you, you still feel more vulnerable.

“Do I now?” Despite being sarcastic, you try not to come off too mean.

But then Hunter sighs out the most exasperated, “ Fuck yeah,” his chin tipping upwards as he gathers his breath, tongue darting out to lick his lips, eyes half closed while he squeezes the tip of his dick, and you’re left render less to your own attraction again.

He seems to see the disbelief in your eyes.

“Don’t you believe me, mesh’la?” He asks. You remain still. “You really need me to spell out just how hot you look right now? How sexy .”

“Hunter,” you whine.

He continues without regarding you.

“I’m trying so hard not to— fuck—“ he tenses his stomach as he tries to compose himself. “—just blow my load right now. You’re just so— so pretty and pliant and so damn obedient .” You tremble slightly, and Hunter reaches to hold the back of your neck; not before tucking a strand of hair behind your ear, of course.

“Listening to my every order,” he continues, oddly affectionate. 

A rush of confidence flows through your veins. You try to smirk, but instead it comes out toothy and bashful.

“That’s my job, sergeant.”

Hunter groans, his fingers curling into your neck, one pressing to your pulse point so purposefully. 

“Fuck, don’t say stuff like that,” he says, shaking his head, though he doesn’t seem too displeased. “Or else this’ll be really short.”

You giggle, trying to look away, but Hunter’s grip on your neck keeps your head in place. You blink rapidly, suddenly overwhelmed by his stare. But you can’t. Move. 

You whisper out a weak, “Keep talking,” before your eyes shut close. You press your palm to your clit, whining softly. Hunter uses the grip on your neck to bring you in closer, whispering slow and softly into your ear with purposeful oscillations of his lips,

“I wonder how you’ll feel around me.” You sigh out the faintest hint of his name in surprise, just as you begin to press a finger into your entrance. “I bet you’re so tight you’ll squeeze me out. Warm, and hot, and loud .”

“Fuck,” you swear, both in response to his words and to the feeling of a single finger pumping in and out of you. You’ve done little to stimulate yourself and cum, but somehow you’re already feeling an anticipated crawl up of an orgasm. 

The things Hunter does to you.

“I want your mouth on my cock too.”

You clench involuntarily o over your finger, bucking your hip so your clit catches against your palm. Oh. He isn’t done.

“‘Thinking we’d both have fun if I tried a hand at commanding you around, fucked your face a little.”

Hunter tilts his head. as though expecting a response, so you nod your head — or tilt your chin down, you’re unsure— and he grins in deep settled approval at your compliance.

“How does that sound, hm?”

In a split moment of respite, while he awaits your response, you gaze down, watch his hand wrap around his cock with more insistence than before, stroke at the same rate you move. The hand on your hip drifts down to hold your hip again, rocking you with more fervor. Inadvertently, the movement forces your fingers in a new direction that grazes your g-spot just so perfectly, and you’re sighing again.

“ Oh… ”

The silence becomes too long for Hunter to bear, and he grunts.

“Answer me, mesh’la,” his tone is commanding, yet not overbearing. You appreciate it considering the sliver of shame remaining in your stomach. “Would you like that?”

“I’d–I’d like it,” you stammer out, slowly rubbing a second finger down your folds before pressing in slowly to meet the other. “A lot … fuck.”

With a tilt of his head, Hunter leans in closer, lips dangerously close to yours and for a split moment you consider pulling away. 

“Something the matter?” He asks, but he knows the answer. Hunter can damn well see how your legs begin to twitch and shake more rapidly, the unsteadiness of your breathing as you simultaneously calm yourself and try to bring about your high.

“You fucking know what’s the matter, Hunter,” you bark back.

“I don’t think I’m sure exactly,” he responds dismissively. “Could you say it clearly, just in case?”

Something you hope sounds like a playful growl leaves you, but in reality, it probably sounds like a moth cat purring.

“You bastard .” There’s no real bite to your insult, and Hunter knows it, so he grins.

“I do my best.”

Your pleasure overtakes you and a shiver runs from the top of your spine to your legs, your thumb moving to properly rub your clit.

“Oh, fuck, I’m close,” you’re moaning out before you know it, voice dwindling so you’re not too loud. 

“Ah,” Hunter hums, affectionately rubbing your hip. “That’s what I thought. ‘Was just making sure.” 

His strokes have become more erratic and frantic, but his composure doesn’t give it away. If you weren’t to gaze down, you’d have no tell how aroused he truly was. Though perhaps that’s how he wants it to be— you’re a pretty mess while he’s the foundation to keep you upright.

Suddenly, he’s talking again, using the hand on your hip to encourage you to keep rocking.

“Come on, you pretty thing,” he rumbles. “Come for me and I’ll come for you.” Then you’re remembering what brought you to this attraction in the first place; that damn voice of his. Truly, and you mean truly, never saw yourself being in this position; situated over Hunter’s lap, touching yourself for him while he gets off to you and only you. 

With one more curl of your fingers against your g-spot and your thump insistently rubbing your clit, you’re over the hill, and you’re twitching and rocking your hips over and over in arches of your back, jumbled syllables vaguely making up Hunter’s name spilling from your lips like sticky sweet sugar.

That’s when you hear it. When you glance down to catch his spend start to spill on his bare skin the bandages of his, he groans out the most pleasant incantation of your name you’ve ever heard. The moment the noise graces your ears, you’re certain that you never want to hear anything else. Or at the least, any other version of your name. 

A few moments pass where you remain panting in each other's presence, his hands remaining render less at your side, rubbing up and down in uncoordinated patterns, while your hands grip his shoulders. You only start to pull away from him as you catch your bearings— and your dignity.

Hunter interrupts you by grabbing the wrist of the hand you had stuffed down your panties. He leans in closer, tongue darting out like a teasing little offer.

“Can I get a taste, mesh’la?” His voice is slow, and warm, like honey pouring into a pot of tea—in any other situation, it would sedate your nerves. But those words ignite that fuel inside you. You press your fingers still coated in slick to his lips, and he opens his mouth graciously, letting his tongue swirl around your digits with a gracious hum that vibrates your skin. Your other hand drops to his chest just before where the gash begins and holds onto it with a tremorous touch.

Hunter pulls away with a resounding ‘pop’ that makes you cringe, but not pull your eyes away.

“Delicious,” he remarks.

Your face is hot again and Hunter is smiling wide, but you’ve figured out by now he means no malicious intent with his mannerisms. His hand reaches out, cradling your face 

“Aren’t you a sight for sore eyes,” Hunter admires you with a glint in his eye you’ve never seen before. Sure, you’ve seen affection— plenty at this point— but there’s a tenderness to his words as he continues. It still doesn’t feel fair to not return the compliment, however.

“You’re one to talk.”

The only response you get is a scoff.

“Have you ever seen yourself?” He asks, posing the rhetoric as if you’d go out of the way to compliment yourself. It’s hard to feel anything more than pretty when you have the most handsome man trapped between your thighs. 

Hunter doesn’t budge — states it like a fact, as though he truly believes it. “I always get ravenous just looking at you.”

“Oh,” You reply dumbly. “I… I didn’t think.” Your ability to talk to Hunter improves after getting off for him, it seems. 

“You thought wrong,” he replies, shaking his head slightly with a smile. He leans his head down, looking better at your face before reaching with his palm to hold your cheek with hands so calloused they feel soft. 

“You’re a capable woman, a great addition to the batch–” Your cheeks heat up, and he smiles. “--And I think you’re beautiful. Mesh’la. That’s what that means.”

Your hand crawls up slowly against his arm, unknowingly following the pattern of his skeleton tattoo before your much smaller hand is placed against his.

“Hunter…” You whine.

He tilts his head, that goofy smile still stuck on his face. “What?”

“You flatter me.” With a shake of your head, you unpeel yourself from his lap, and Hunter whines so, so soft as you do to the point you almost leap back onto his lap again.

“I’m being honest,” Hunter insists, lazily using the underside of his blacks to clean his spend off his skin and the bandages. You’re standing idly, stupidly, and you know he’s waiting for you to say something— and you do, you do, but you don’t know what.

“Well, thank you,” you finally answer, attempting to compose yourself. You awkwardly place your feet back into the holes of your pants, pulling them up in a swift motion that leaves you put away wet, but you care very little at this point. 

You look up at Hunter, appreciatively looking over his features, before a forlorn feeling fills your stomach when you gaze down at his lips. You felt them delicately graze against your ear, wrap around your fingers to gently suck and lap at the spend coating them, yet you haven’t felt them against yours once.

He notices the look on your face.

“Something up?” He asks.

In retrospect, it must’ve been a rush of confidence through your veins after having him in such a vulnerable state only a moment ago, but you truly don’t know where your next words come from.

“Can I have a kiss?”

You expect, hope even, for Hunter to be thrown off his rhythm so he can be on the same level as you for once. Rather he takes a step closer to you, his hand methodically wrapping around the back of your neck again, thumb pressing the juncture between your jaw and throat for that extra leisure, feeling your pulse as he pulls you in for a kiss.

In your dreams, Hunter's kisses are wholly devouring. But in reality, it’s warm, tender, brimming with an underlying passion you least expected. As his lips press against yours, you can feel the velvet caress of his skin, the exchange of breath between the two of you that makes you hum into him.

His other hand rises to gently stroke your back before pulling you closer, and you feel so enveloped in his embrace that neither of you will be harmed again. You press your foreheads together and pull away, each taking slow, savoring breaths.

Truly, you never expected to be in this situation.

“...I don’t want this to be a one-time thing,” you mutter shyly, a bashful look on your face. It’s that little smile, that damned voice of his, that delivers the final blow, sending you back into his striking orbit.

“Of course,” Hunter tells you, smooth as ever. “I still haven’t gotten to be inside you.”

ragu list: @isaidonyourknees @dangraccoon @salaminus @mekuiikore @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @thebahdbitch @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @meshlaxbunny @kimiheartblade @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @starrylothcat @sev-on-kamino @aconstructofamind @xflashcat @dreamie411 @padawancat97 @littlemissmanga @starqueensthings @anxiouspineapple99 @freesia-writes @wings-and-beskar @clio3kantarella @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @523rdrebel @dystopicjumpsuit @mandos-mind-trick @sunshinesdaydream @andrakass2 @jesjestraverse @crosshairlovebot @wizardofrozz @lickylickylicky @captainfresh501 @urmomsmattress @jedi-hawkins @who-would-want-a-broken-heart @cw80831 @bluebird-dreams @ladyzirkonia @multi-fan-dom-madness @moonlightwarriorqueen @eyeluvmusic21 @mythical-illustrator @a-single-tulip

[awkward-tension-art]

Clones as expectant fathers

I am an actual nero-cancer researcher. I have a job and a degree. And my ADHD brain saw sad military men and went “I want that one”

Clones: Rex, Wolffe, Fox, Cody and Fives

CW: pregnancy, the clones all have a ‘secret’ SO, They are expecting a baby, A little angsty with Fox, there's slight mentions of smut with Fives (if you squint), swearing, this is just supposed to be a good time, its not reader insert

Minors do not interact!

Rex

Terrified. Also overjoyed. But mostly terrified. 

He’s a soldier. Captain of the 501st, the most….adventurous of the GAR. His chances of dying on the battlefield and leaving his SO behind are higher than the average clone

And now he may leave behind his child? His kid may grow up without a father

He gets nervous. Anxious and antsy, and it's very VERY easy for Anakin to figure out Rex isn’t entire OK

Rex doesn’t even need to tell Anakin.

Skywalker takes one look at him and just KNOWS.

“Congrats, Rex.” “...on what, sir?” “If it's a boy, name him after me.” “WHAT!?”

Ahsoka needs to be told and she’s more excited than Rex when she finds out. 

“Come on Rex! Name them after me! The republic needs an Ahsoka jr!” “And if the baby is a boy?” “Don’t name them after skyguy, please!”

Most of the 501st don't know. Too many people knowing raises the chance of less accepting individuals knowing. And if that happens, Rex, his SO and his baby may be in danger.

It’s forbidden for the clones to have SO’s, not to mention babies. It could end with Rex being decommissioned or reconditioned if it was found out he had both

Rex will visit and help as much as he can every chance he gets. He feels terrible for leaving his SO for long stretches of time during the pregnancy. 

He WANTS to be there…he just can’t. Not while the war was going on

Despite his terror, Rex is…overjoyed

He didn’t think children were possible for him. He knew it could happen, but he didn’t think HE would ever know this happiness

The first time he feels his baby move in his SO, he’d get this sweetest smile on his face. He’ll kiss the baby bump and just murmur words of love in mando’a

He falls head-over-heels in love all over again

As the due date approaches, Anakin asks an important question

“Captain, I need to know when your baby might be born.” “...why, sir?” “Because I need to know when to take extended leave.”

Anakin tells Padme, and she is beyond sweet. Even visits Rex’s SO and the two have a wonderful friendship

All in all, Rex is both excited and anxious. But having so much support from Anakin, Ahsoka and Padme (and his other brothers who find out much later) helps him a lot

Wolffe

More relaxed. And by relaxed I mean he hides his anxiety better. And it doesn’t exactly hit him as hard

Partly because Plo Koon and the entire Wolfpack knows about his relationship already. 

So you bet your ass the pack celebrates when Wolffe tells them he's going to be a father

Plo Koon especially is excited

“How wonderful, new life being born during times of war” “I’m not naming my child after you, general Plo.” “Nonsense! The child will be a girl.”

During battle, Wolffe finds himself being protected by his brothers and General a tad more

At first he writes it off as a coincidence, but then Boost lets slip during a battle “You gotta get back to your little one!”

He gives his men a bit of a lecture. He’s not incapable of fighting or defending himself. He thinks the message gets across but Plo chimes in with, “Ah yes, the stern words of a father already!”

Wolffe would probably see his SO more frequently than Rex. Just because Plo would more than likely spend more time on Coruscant.

He’s definitely protective. As in, waking up in the middle of the night to check all the windows, protective. Keeping an arm around his SO, protective. Every symptom or sign of discomfort he calls a medical droid, protective.

He’s not stupid, he is well aware that by having an SO and a child on the way he's in violation of several rules. All of which, when broken, would have him decommissioned

But dammit, he's not letting that happen. Wolffe will be there for his SO and his baby, no matter what

Since he’s able to spend more time with his SO, he’s there to feel the first movements of his baby.

It sort of causes him to short-circuit for a second. It hits him that yes, this is a life that he and his SO both created. Out of love.

Wolffe makes a swear that he’s going to protect his baby at all costs

Grandpa Plo does as well, but the Wolfpack doesn’t know that

Fox (kinda angst)

First of all congratulations to the SO for actually managing to be Fox’s SO

They got to be something special for the head of Palpatine’s personal guard to break rules and regulations and find himself an SO

Speaking of Palpatine, congratulations to Fox! Your SO is now in even more danger!

No, seriously. Palpatine knows before Fox. No one knows how, but he knows.

And he absolutely will use Fox’s SO as leverage to keep him under control

And Fox knows this, so he behaves. More so than usual.

He’s not blind. Hes fiercely loyal to the republic, but one step out of line and the (very few) things he cares about will be killed

Which…is why Fox may come across as cold or uninterested when his SO informs him of their pregnancy

A part of him is terrified, he just won’t show it

He’s not going to be more affectionate or anything. He actually acts pretty normal. Which is standoffish.

Despite his…demeanor, he actually manages to be present for the entirety of the pregnancy. It helps being a Coruscant guard, which means he’s more present than all the other clones.

He’s not moving mountains or anything, but he’ll get snacks in the middle of the night in case of cravings

No one else knows about Fox and his SO. not even his own men. He refuses to tell anyone. 

Its for his SO’s protection

But Palpatine, the sick fuck, slips some words to get Fox’s nerves into overdrive

“This war is taking such a toll. So many dead children…so many grief stricken parents” “Sir?” “Oh nothing. Just stating the fact that the loss of an innocent life, such as…a baby, is always a tragedy. Wouldn’t you agree, commander?”

He found himself walking home a bit faster that day and hugs his SO a little tighter that night

Fox cares, in his own way. He’s just beyond stressed and anxious. But you wouldn’t know. He hides it behind a mask. 

It's actually Padme that finds out. And she feels somewhat bad for Fox. She thinks his anxiety comes from the fact that clones aren't allowed SO’s or children

Which, it is, but theres the added threat of fucking Palpatine.

She ends up getting him to tell her the truth and she swears to secrecy. Even offers to hire his SO as some sort of assistant, if only so Fox can be closer to his SO

Hear me out, he actually breaks down when he feels the baby move. He can’t fully handle it anymore and shuts down. 

This is a baby. His baby. They're alive and already so loved.

Something in him clicks and he accepts Padme’s help. 

His terror gets easier, ever so slightly. But he keeps his collected and calm front.

Cody

“General Kenobi-” “Ah! Commander Cody! Congratulations!”

goddamnit.exe

Cody is a tad more relaxed than Rex, but more tense than Wolffe

He knows Kenobi isn’t going to punish him or force him back to Kamino for decommissioning, he’s still a little on guard.

But, since Kenobi knows, Anakin does. So does Ahsoka. Which means Rex knows.

goddamnit2.exe

More people in the 501st know than in the 212th which gives him the biggest headache

Waxer knows though. Cody had to tell someone that wasn’t a sarcastic general

He does a good job hiding his worry though

Cody is able to spend about the same amount of time as Rex with his SO

He doesn’t feel as bad as Rex when it comes to the lack of presence he has during the pregnancy

It's war. It sucks and he’d prefer to be there for his SO, but he’d also prefer SO and child have freedom from the separatists

I will say, he is pretty attentive when he isn’t off in space.

Foot rubs, shoulders massages, helping with cravings

One thing Cody does is that he’ll wrap his arms under his SO’s baby bump and lift it slightly, giving his SO’s back some relief

He really loves to do this because his SO just melts

Hear me out, Cody gets giggly when he feels the baby move/kick the first time

His palm is on the bump and he feels that first little flutter against his hand

404 Commander Cody has his amygdala broken from joy. Reboot?

He’ll actually tell Kenobi about it because he’s so happy.

“That's wonderful Cody, but I still question one thing.” “What is it, sir?” “How you managed to get laid to begin with.”

Goddamnit3.exe

Fives

“Hey everyone! I’m gonna be a dad!”

Ecstatic is not a strong enough word

Also not subtle at all

There is a solid 3 hours until everyone in the 501st knows

He’s told Echo before the first hour. Rex knew within 2 hours.

Fives is BEYOND over the moon

He gets this small smile on his face that just doesn’t go away

Whenever he’s not with his SO, he definitely calls them every day. He wants updates on the little one

Also, seeing his SO with a baby bump? Unlocks something inside his brain.

Fives is incredibly horny when he’s with his SO. He’ll be rubbing their middle and getting a puppy dog look in his eye.

Only if his SO is in the mood of course! He’d never try and be forceful

He’s probably the clone that takes the distance the hardest. He debates taking a ship and making a run for Coruscant on more than one occasion.

In the end he settles to ask Anakin for extended leave.

Anakin is also extremely happy for Fives. Like with Rex, he makes a “name the baby after me” joke

Fives brings that up to his SO and nearly gets smacked. He also makes a “Fives jr.” joke and actually does get smacked.

When Fives feels the baby kick, he gets high on happiness. Actual mumbling incoherent words of love and affection in Mando’a

Lots and lots of “Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum”

He also gets very VERY affectionate with his SO

Kisses his SO’s face a lot. Even as a greeting, he’ll just start peppering their cheeks with pecks

Also probably the only one ballsy enough to ASK his general for extended leave

“Excuse me, general Skywalker? I’ll need to take leave at this date.” “Oh, yea sure. You know what? That seems like a good time for all the men to take a break. Thanks, Fives.”

He’s also probably the only one ballsy enough to actually take his new born baby onto a fucking battleship to introduce everyone.

“This is your uncle Rex. This is your uncle Echo and your uncle Tup. That's your auntie Ahsoka!” “Fives what the FUCK are you doing?!” “Introducing the family, captain.”

[jetii]

Awkward

Pairing: Hunter x fem!Reader

Words: 9,063

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! fluff, squadmates to lovers, some general miscommunication awkwardness, mutual pining, inexperienced!Hunter, first time, smut, nipple play, oral (f and m receiving), face fucking, fingering, so much kissing

Summary: You messed up. After months of hiding your feelings for Hunter, you kiss him to avoid a bad situation, but he doesn't react the way you expect. And he doesn't seem interested in talking about it.

A/N: Thank you @wiltedwillowsvioletsky for the prompt! I can't lie this is one of my favorite tropes. I have another Hunter fic that I'll be posting in a couple weeks, and it's much more serious/angsty so I wanted to make this one fun.

“Physical displays of affection make people uncomfortable,” you say in a rush as if it's a single word, before you lose your nerve.

Hunter stops moving. He’s not even breathing, as far as you can tell. You feel your heart in your throat.

He looks at you, head slightly tilted to the side, like he does when he hears something strange. His eyes search yours for a long moment, his brow furrowed. 

You have no idea what he's thinking, but you plow ahead anyway. There’s no time for anything else. The guards will be on you soon.

You reach out, grab his shoulders and step closer to him. Your body presses against his chest, and his arms come up automatically to encircle your waist. You wrap your arms around his neck.

You close your eyes and lean in, until your lips are almost touching his ear. You whisper, in a tone you hope he recognizes as the warning it is, “Just act natural.”

And then you press your mouth to his.

It’s awkward. 

Painfully, agonizingly awkward.

Your noses are squished together, and he doesn't react. Doesn't even breathe, so far as you can tell. Your heart is in your throat, and you’re trying desperately not to think about what you're doing.

You’re aware that Hunter is warm and firm under your hands. His fingers twitch at your waist and the back of your neck tingles. He’s not moving. He’s not responding. You feel the familiar sensation of dread building in your stomach.

You know better than this.

You are such an idiot.

Finally, you start to pull away, heart in your throat. Maybe this wasn't the best idea. Maybe you should just let the guards shoot you and save you from the humiliation.

As you begin to move, you feel Hunter take a breath. He surges forward and kisses you again, pulling you closer to him. His hands are gripping you firmly, one sliding up to tangle in your hair, the other dropping lower, almost to your ass.

He tilts his head and deepens the kiss.

He still doesn't seem to be breathing, and the kiss is more a series of short, desperate presses of lips and tongue, but it's good. It's great, actually. You’re suddenly very aware of the fact that Hunter has never kissed anyone before, but you’re too dazed by his enthusiasm to care.

His mouth is warm and insistent against yours, and he tastes like the caf you drank at breakfast. His stubble scrapes your chin and his teeth knock against yours, and he seems to be holding his breath the whole time. You can't tell if it's because he's nervous, or because he simply forgot how.

Either way, his grip is firm, and he kisses you as if his life depends on it. In this moment, it very well might.

You realize you're standing on the tips of your toes. You tighten your arms around his neck and lean into him, trying to relieve some of the strain. The hand on your neck slips up, cradling your cheek and the feeling of his gloved fingertips is so good, you have to stifle a whimper.

The kiss goes on forever.

It goes on long enough that you should have heard the guards coming, but you didn't.

Suddenly, Hunter pulls away from you, leaving you dizzy and off-balance. Your arms are still wrapped around his neck. You blink rapidly, trying to get your brain to re-engage.

"You didn't need to do that,” he whispers, his voice hoarse, and a little unsteady.

You look up, and meet his eyes, and you realize how close you are to him. The kiss felt like a lifetime. You were pressed up against him so tightly, his hands on you so possessively, that the absence of him is jarring. You shiver, and he rubs his thumb against the back of your neck.

"It was a good plan," you say, because you have no idea what else to say.

You are suddenly painfully aware of the fact that you're standing in the middle of the hallway with Hunter's arms around you. Your legs feel a little bit like jelly.

You want to lean forward and press your face into the hollow of his throat. You want him to pull you closer, to hold you tighter. You want him to kiss you again. You want him to push you up against the wall and—

Your stomach clenches. Your pulse races. You're pretty sure you've never been so turned on in your life, and that's not a useful thing to think about when you're in the middle of a mission.

“They're not coming," Hunter says, and you know, intellectually, that he is referring to the guards, but your mind is in another place entirely.

You don’t trust yourself to speak, so you just nod.

Hunter stares down at you, his eyes roving over you like he's never seen you before. His cheeks are pink, his hair is mussed, and his lips are swollen and slick. You're having a hard time looking away from his mouth.

The hand on your waist shifts, his thumb starts tracing a soft, slow circle across the exposed skin of your hip. It's barely any pressure at all, but it sends a wave of heat through you. Your heart is pounding, and you know he can hear it.

You can feel the blood rushing through your veins, and all you can think is he can't possibly not know, he's got enhanced senses, he can't possibly not know that I'm crazy about him.

Hunter's face is flushed and he looks as wrecked as you feel.

You wonder if he will ever kiss you again.

You are so close that the thought crosses your mind that you could lean forward and kiss him again, and it would be fine. That's what people do, when they've kissed each other. They kiss again.

You're not sure you can bring yourself to do it. You're not sure he’ll let you. He’s still looking at you like he can't quite believe what just happened, or maybe he can't quite believe what he did.

You wonder if there is a way to ask him, without actually asking him.

You wonder if there's a way to make him want you the way you want him.

You wonder, with a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach, if you've managed to ruin everything.

"So you think they're gone?" you ask. Your voice sounds normal, somehow, even though you can barely hear over the sound of your heart.

He pauses, like he's forgotten what you're talking about, then says, "They, uh, they turned the corner a minute ago."

"Good," you say, and the two of you stand there in silence.

It would be so easy to reach up and run your fingers through his hair, to pull him down and press your lips to his again. You can't stop thinking about it. Your whole body feels like it's on fire.

Hunter stares down at you, his eyes dark and wide, and you're standing so close together that you can see the flecks of gold in his irises. His face is still flushed, his mouth still slightly open.

If he doesn't kiss you again, you are going to die.

The hand on your waist is warm and heavy, his thumb rubbing slow circles on your skin.

“We should head back to the ship,” he says, but neither of you move.

He leans in a little, and his nose brushes against yours. Your heart is pounding. You feel hot all over.

He hesitates, and you're sure that he's going to kiss you again.

He doesn't.

"I'm going to check the hall," he says, and pulls away from you.

Your body is burning with unspent desire, and your hands are shaking.

He's going to pretend it didn't happen. That's fine. You can do that too. You can absolutely ignore the fact that he just kissed you like he meant it, and you can't stop thinking about it. It's not a problem. You're not going to be awkward around him. It's going to be fine.

Hunter turns the corner. He's gone.

Your hands are still shaking.

"Shit," you whisper.

You lean back against the wall, close your eyes, and try to catch your breath.

It's going to be a long trip home.

It's not going to be weird.

You won't let it be weird.

You keep telling yourself that, over and over, and you hope it will make it true. You’re not going to make it weird. You have to ignore the way Hunter looked at you when you pulled away. You have to forget the way he kissed you, the way his hands felt on your waist, the way he tasted. You have to forget the way he hesitated, and for a moment, you were sure he was going to kiss you again.

This isn’t something you can change. This isn't a mistake you can fix. You've made the best decision you could, and now, you have to live with it. 

You try your best to be normal. You sit next to him in the cockpit. You joke with him and laugh at his stories. You make eye contact, and don't stare at his lips.

You have a hard time keeping your distance. The ship is small, and he's everywhere. When he comes into the room, your whole body responds. It's not a conscious reaction. It's involuntary. So you try your best to limit your time alone with him.

It's fine. You're fine. You're being normal.

Except that Hunter is acting...different.

He watches you constantly, like he's waiting for you to say something. He's jumpy and quiet. He's clearly on edge, and you have no idea why. You've replayed the moment outside the vault a thousand times, and you can't figure out where you went wrong.

You're not sure how to talk about it, so you decide to pretend it didn't happen. That should help, right? If the two of you can ignore the kiss, maybe things will go back to normal.

But Hunter doesn't play along.

He keeps touching you.

The first time it happens, it catches you by surprise. You're on a supply run, and the two of you have stopped at a kiosk in the market. He's talking to the merchant about the supplies you need, and his hand brushes the small of your back, right above the base of your spine.

The gesture is so casual, so familiar, and so unexpected, that you jump. You look at him, and he's still focused on the merchant. You must have imagined it.

It happens again, on the ship, when he reaches over and pats your shoulder, his fingers lingering a little longer than necessary. You stare at him, but he doesn't notice. He's looking at Tech.

"Are you all right?" you ask.

"Fine," he says, and he goes back to his work.

It keeps happening.

Everywhere. On the ship. In the hangar. At the bar. Everywhere.

He touches your hand when he gives you your share of the credits. He puts his hand on your hip to guide you around a group of people. He squeezes your shoulder when he passes behind you. He leans over you in the cockpit, and rests his hand on the back of your seat. He tucked a stray strand of hair behind your ear yesterday, and he nudged your knee with his while the two of you were sitting around the fire pit.

Everywhere. All the time.

The worst part is that it's not even sexual. He touches you the way a partner would. A lover. Like the two of you are comfortable together, and it's driving you insane. You don't understand why he's doing it.

Every touch is like fire on your skin. Every time, you jump, and every time, you look at him, and every time, he's not looking at you. It's infuriating.

Finally, when he grabs your elbow at Cid's, and you whirl around and glare at him, you realize that it is, in fact, intentional.

You grab him by the front of his armor and drag him into the nearest storage closet. You are absolutely done with this.

Hunter follows without protest, and as soon as the door closes behind him, you turn and demand, "What are you doing?"

He looks at you with amusement. He's smiling a little. It makes him look younger, and even more handsome than usual. "Touching you," he says, as if this is obvious.

You stare at him.

"Why?"

"You don't like it?"

"That's not the point!" You can feel the blush creep into your cheeks. "Why are you doing it?"

He leans down, so that his face is very close to yours. "Because I want to."

His voice is low, and a little rough. He's so close, and he's looking at you in that way that makes you weak in the knees. He reaches out, and cups your face with his hands. His thumb traces your lower lip, and it takes all of your self control not to bite it.

"Because," he murmurs, "you're not stopping me."

You can't breathe.

"Hunter," you say, and you don't recognize your own voice.

"Yes?"

"If you're going to kiss me again, I suggest you do it now."

He looks a little surprised, but then he smiles, and ducks his head and does exactly as you ask.

And, stars, the kiss is so good.

He's much more confident now. Hunter's hand is warm and steady on your jaw, and his lips are firm. He kisses you gently, as if he has all the time in the world. His tongue is soft and wet and teasing, and his other hand has settled on the small of your back, his thumb tracing lazy circles over the thin material of your shirt.

Your hands are pressed against the cold, flat plastoid of his armor, but you need to touch him. You slide your palms up his chest, over his shoulders, until you can cup his neck and tangle your fingers in his hair.

You can't tell who moans. Maybe both of you.

His hands slip under your shirt, and his gloves are soft against your bare skin. He pulls you closer, and the kiss deepens, his tongue pressing deeper, his mouth opening wider. You can't stop the whimper that escapes you.

Your back hits the wall, and the kiss changes, becomes hungrier. He's kissing you like he means it, and you're overwhelmed by the smell of him, the feel of him, the taste of him. He's surrounding you. You're drowning in him, and it's not enough. You're not sure it will ever be enough.

You pull away, gasping, and he looks at you, his eyes dark and unfocused.

"I'm sorry," he says, his voice hoarse, and his fingers tighten on your skin. "I was going to talk to you about this, but I've never been very good at talking."

You stare at him. You feel a little bit like someone has hit you over the head.

"What?" you manage.

He clears his throat. "I thought I'd give it some time. Wait and see if you brought it up, or if you were going to...do that."

You're having a hard time focusing on what he's saying. He's so close to you, and you can feel his chest rising and falling against yours. His hands are on you. He's got one thigh between your legs.

"Do what?"

Hunter gestures, a little helplessly, towards the storage room door. "That."

You take a deep breath and close your eyes. You have no idea what is going on, but you can't think straight when he's so close.

"What are you talking about?" you ask, and your voice is a lot calmer than you feel.

He pauses, and his fingers are tapping out a nervous rhythm against your hip.

"Are you saying we haven't been flirting?" he asks, and the look on his face is almost comical. He looks so confused, so baffled, and so, so handsome. You've never wanted anyone more.

You have no idea what is going on.

"Flirting?" you echo.

"Or...something," he says, a little more cautiously.

You feel a rush of heat rise in your cheeks. You're suddenly aware that the two of you are still pressed together. His hands are on your skin, his thigh is still between your legs. You let go of him, and press your palms flat against the wall. You need some distance from him.

"You've been flirting with me?"

He frowns.

"I thought I was being pretty obvious," he says, and the confusion on his face is adorable.

"So," you say slowly, "you've been touching me, and following me around, and being..." you trail off, not sure how to describe it.

"Attentive?" he offers.

"No."

"Interested?"

"You haven't been subtle," you say instead.

"And I thought you were responding," he says, and he's looking at you like he can't figure you out, "I could hear your heartbeat. It was always a little fast when I touched you."

You're not sure whether to be annoyed or impressed by his powers of observation.

"Yeah," you say, because it seems like the easiest answer, "I was."

He's looking at you expectantly, and the realization hits you like a ton of bricks.

He has no idea what he's doing.

You're so used to being around the guys and seeing them as men, that you forget sometimes, how little experience they actually have. Hunter is a grown man, with enhanced senses, a lethal skill set, and a very high level of intelligence.

But he is also a clone, who spent his entire life training and fighting. Who spent nearly every shore leave on Kamino, surrounded by brothers. Who, as far as you can tell, has never kissed anyone, and certainly has never had sex.

He has no idea what he's doing.

You sigh, and lean your forehead against his chest.

"You're really bad at this," you say, and your voice is muffled by his armor. “I didn’t think you were bad at anything. Especially this kind of thing."

"I've never had a relationship before," he says. "I've never done anything like this before."

"Well, you're doing a good job of pretending you have," you mutter.

"You think I'm good at it?"

You look up at him, and there's an unmistakable look of satisfaction on his face.

"You're terrible," you tell him. He doesn't seem offended by this, so you add, "But you're lucky you're hot, or I would have left."

His expression turns thoughtful.

"So," he starts. His arms wrap around your waist, pulling you closer. His gaze drops from your eyes, down to your lips, and then lower. He pulls you flush against him, his body warm and solid against yours. Your hands are pressed against his chest, and he leans down, until his mouth is close to your ear.

“Are you going to stop me?"

"No," you say. His answering smile is brilliant, and for a moment, you're afraid you might drown.

"Good," he says, and kisses you again.

The second kiss is even better than the first.

He's not hesitant anymore. He's not careful. He's kissing you like he can't get enough, like he's afraid he'll never kiss you again.

His hands are everywhere, sliding up under your shirt, across the flat of your stomach, over the curve of your waist. His thumbs trace the undersides of your breasts, and his teeth tug at your bottom lip. You gasp, and arch into him.

He presses his lips to your neck, and the sound you make is obscene.

You can't think.

You're not sure why he wants you. You're not sure why he's chosen you. But, stars, you want him.

"Hunter," you say. Your voice sounds ragged and desperate, and he groans and presses his mouth to the hollow of your throat.

"This," he says, and his voice is low, and rough, and it sends a shiver down your spine, "is why I've been touching you."

You laugh, a little unsteadily, and run your fingers through his hair, scratching gently at the base of his skull. His reaction is immediate, his breath catching, his mouth opening wider, his hips rocking against yours.

He kisses you again, his tongue slipping into your mouth, and your thoughts scatter. You can't think, can't breathe.

The third kiss is a long, slow, lazy exploration. You kiss him until your legs are weak, and your head is spinning. You kiss him until your lips are swollen and you're breathless. And then you kiss him some more, because you’re still not ready to stop.

"We should," he says, and then doesn't finish the sentence. It doesn't matter, because you know what he's going to say.

"We should," you agree, and you lean into him and rest your forehead on his chest.

He runs his hand through your hair, and the sensation is pleasant. It's warm and soft and comfortable.

The fourth kiss is gentle, and soft, and you can't help but feel like it's more of a promise than anything else.

The fifth kiss is the one that makes you realize, with absolute certainty, that you're doomed.

Hunter kisses you whenever he can.

You don't even have time to be nervous about it, because he doesn't wait for privacy.

In the hangar, before a mission, he leans over you, and tilts your chin up with his fingers, and presses a kiss to your mouth. It's a soft, quick, brush of his lips, and it's so brief, you're not sure it happened.

At Cid's, in the bar, where everyone can see, he reaches over and touches the back of your hand. His thumb strokes the sensitive skin on the inside of your wrist. He leans in and kisses the corner of your mouth. The gesture is casual, and easy, and no one seems to notice. Or no one seems to care.

He does it in front of the others, and you wonder if this is his way of telling them that he wants you and that he doesn't care if they know. You wonder if he's trying to tell you that he's serious, or if he's simply testing the boundaries of his own attraction. You wish he would just tell you what he's thinking.

But you're not going to complain.

When the two of you are alone on the ship, and there's no chance of being interrupted, he does something a little less casual. He grabs your waist and pushes you against the nearest wall, and kisses you until your toes curl.

Every time, you're not sure it's going to happen. Every time, you're waiting for him to get bored, or annoyed, or change his mind.

Every time, he kisses you like he means it.

Sometimes, when he pulls away, his hands are shaking.

You know how he feels.

Every time he kisses you, it takes you by surprise. You're always caught off guard by the way he looks at you. The way his gaze roves over your face, his eyes dark and intense, his brow furrowed. 

You're always surprised by the way he smiles when he sees you. It's a small, shy smile, but it's full of affection. You're always shocked by the way he touches you. You're not used to being touched, not like this, not casually, and not with the same gentleness that he uses.

You're not used to it.

But you think you could get used to it.

You want to.

This evening the rest of the squad is out, scattering to enjoy the night before the next job. Hunter has asked you to stay behind.

He's told the others that you're both busy.

He's told them that the two of you are planning the next mission.

He hasn't told them that the two of you are spending a rare night alone together, and have every intention of enjoying it.

As soon as the others are gone, the ramp closing behind them, Hunter turns to you.

"We're not planning the mission, are we?" you ask, even though you know the answer.

"No," he says, and steps towards you. "We're not."

His hand comes up, and his fingers are soft as they cup your cheek.

"Good," you reply. "That was a terrible lie."

He laughs, and the sound warms your heart. You're not sure you've ever seen him so relaxed, so happy. He looks younger, less worried, less tense. You're not sure what's changed.

You don't ask.

He doesn't tell.

He’s far too busy pulling you into his lap, and kissing you until your knees are weak.

His hands are everywhere. On your face. Your neck. Your back. Your waist. They're warm, and strong, and possessive, and his lips are firm, and insistent, and soft, and kriff, he's a really, really good kisser. How he went from being bad at this to being so good, so quickly, you have no idea.

This kiss is a little rough, and a little needy. His hands are on your thighs, holding you in place, and his body is pressed against yours. He's not shy about letting you know that he wants you. He's forgone half of his armor today, and you can feel the insistent press of his cock, hard and straining against his pants.

You want nothing more than to wrap your hand around it, and stroke it, and feel him pulse and spill his seed over your fingers. He'd make the most incredible noises, and his face would flush, and he'd look at you with that dazed, overwhelmed expression he gets, and you want him so badly, it almost hurts.

His hips jerk forward, and you moan into his mouth. He breaks away from you, and presses his face into the curve of your neck. He's breathing hard, and his breath is warm on your skin.

"You're really good at this," he says, and you can't help the laughter that bubbles out of you.

"You're terrible," you tease. "Why do you keep saying that?"

"Because it's true," he murmurs.

You run your hands up his back and scratch lightly at the base of his neck. He shivers, and his fingers tighten on your thighs.

"Good at flirting." He leans in and kisses the hollow of your throat. "Very, very good."

"Stop," you say, laughing, and your face is burning. You're embarrassed by the praise, and the fact that he can feel how warm you are. He can hear your heartbeat. He can probably smell how wet you are.

He chuckles against your skin.

"Why would I do that?" he murmurs. His mouth moves up, and his lips are warm on the underside of your jaw. "I can tell how much you like it."

"Hunter," you hiss. Your voice sounds strained, you almost don't recognize it. He kisses the soft skin just below your ear, his tongue darting out to taste you, and your brain short-circuits.

“I can hear it." There's a note of wonder in his voice, like he's amazed at the way you react to him. "Every time I touch you, your heartbeat gets a little faster."

"You've noticed that?"

"Yeah," he rasps, and the feeling of his voice vibrating through your skin makes you shiver, "I can't concentrate when I hear it. Every time I hear it, all I can think about is kissing you."

"Every time?"

"All the time," he murmurs. He kisses the spot behind your ear, and your toes curl. "You have no idea how distracting it is."

You can't think. All you can do is tilt your head to give him better access. His mouth is hot and wet and he's sucking lightly at the sensitive skin there. You moan softly. His grip on your thighs tightens.

"So," you say, and your voice is unsteady, "what are you going to do about it?"

He pulls away, and his hands slip up, his palms settling on your hips, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass. He looks at you, his gaze traveling over your face, and then dropping lower. You're acutely aware that he's staring at your mouth, and your whole body is buzzing with anticipation.

"Well," he says slowly, and the expression on his face is absolutely sinful, "I was hoping that I could touch you."

You swallow hard. You have to take a few seconds to get your voice working. "Where?" you ask.

He grins, and his eyes sparkle.

"Everywhere."

You nod.

You can feel his body tense, and then he's kissing you again, and you lose track of how many kisses the two of you have shared.

It doesn't matter.

This is the one that's going to ruin you.

This kiss is hard and fast and messy, and his hands are gripping your thighs, his hips are rocking up against yours, and you're grinding on his cock, and it's so good.

His hands slide under your shirt, and his fingertips brush the underside of your breasts. He groans into your mouth, and the sound goes straight to your clit. You grind down on him again, and his hands move up, palming your breasts, and he pinches your nipples between his fingers. The feeling is so sharp and sweet, that you have to pull away from the kiss, gasping for breath.

His mouth is immediately on your neck, his lips warm and wet on your skin. He kisses his way down, across the curve of your shoulder, and bites down on the tender skin of your collarbone. You can feel the sharp edge of his teeth, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

"Fuck," you whisper.

His mouth is still on your skin, but he laughs.

"I'm sorry," he whispers. He runs his tongue over the bite mark. "Did that hurt?"

"Yeah," you say. Your voice is unsteady. "I liked it."

He growls, and his mouth is on yours again. His tongue slips past your lips, and you suck on it, and the sound he makes is so desperate, and so needy, that you have to grind down on his cock again. You can feel him straining against his pants, hard and thick, and you can't wait to get your hands on him.

"Hunter," you manage, and his name comes out like a whine.

"Yes," he says, his mouth pressed against the base of your throat, "anything, just tell me."

"I want to suck your cock."

He freezes.

His entire body goes tense, and he pulls away and stares at you. His eyes go wide, and his lips part. It’s the same look he gave you when you kissed him for the first time, and you can't get over the fact that this, somehow, is more surprising than the kiss.

"Do you want that?" you ask, because maybe he doesn't. Maybe you've read the situation wrong. Maybe you've misjudged his reaction, and now you've made a fool of yourself. You’ve never had anyone turn you down before, but this isn't just anyone. This is Hunter.

He doesn't say anything, but he nods, and the expression on his face is a little dazed, and a lot hungry. His pupils are blown, and his breathing is shallow. He looks wrecked. You've barely touched him, and already, he's a mess.

You've never had anyone look at you like this. It makes you feel powerful and a little bit smug.

"Yes," he says.

"Can I?"

"Yes," he repeats.

He doesn't seem inclined to move, so you slide off his lap, and get to your knees in front of him. When he sees you on the floor, looking up at him, his mouth drops open a little more, and his cock twitches. You can see it straining against his pants.

You want your mouth on him so badly, you're afraid you might pass out. You lick your lips, shifting slightly to ease the ache between your legs. His eyes follow the motion, and he takes a deep breath before reaching for his belt.

He unbuckles it, and pops the button on his pants, and you lean forward, and help him pull them down. His cock springs free, hard and thick and curved, and the tip is already slick and shiny with precome. It’s just as beautiful as the rest of him.

He shifts a little, and you put your hands on his thighs and run the tip of your tongue over the head. The taste is salty and bitter and familiar, and the sound he makes is so needy, you can't help but moan.

"Oh," he says.

He sounds shocked.

"Does that feel good?"

"Yes."

He's looking down at you, his mouth still open, his face flushed, his chest rising and falling rapidly. You wrap your hand around his cock, and he inhales sharply.

"Is this okay?" you ask.

"Yeah."

You lean forward, and kiss the head, and he exhales.

"It's good," he says, and the words are strained.

"I'm glad," you say with a smile.

"You're very...considerate," he says. Your smile widens. You have to hide your grin by pressing a kiss to the side of his cock. His hips jerk forward, and the moan he makes is delicious.

"I'm a nice person."

"You are," he agrees. His voice is rough. "You're a very nice person."

His head falls back, his words dissolving into a groan as you take him into your mouth. The noise he makes is so beautiful, you can't help but moan. 

The vibrations must feel good, because his hips jerk, and he makes a choked sound in the back of his throat. The motion forces him deeper, and you have to concentrate to relax, and take him without gagging.

He's thick, and long, and hot, and the way he's trembling and moaning above you makes you feel powerful. It's a little heady, knowing that you're the one who has reduced him to this. You can feel him struggling not to move, and the effort it takes is evident in the way his body is taut, and the tension in his muscles. He's fighting the urge to thrust. 

You're not sure how much longer he'll be able to resist, and you can't wait. 

You want him to let go. You want him to fuck your mouth. You want him to come on your face. You want him to grab your hair, and use your mouth, and fuck you until you're a mess, and he can't hold himself back any longer.

Your hand is still wrapped around the base of his cock, and you take him as deep as you can. The sounds of his pleasure are intoxicating. You can't get enough of them. 

He's breathing heavily, his hands are clenched into fists, and when you pull back, and slide your tongue up the length of his shaft, his hips jerk. You moan again, and he curses and grabs your shoulders. You think he's going to pull you off of him, but instead, he's trying to drag you closer. He's trying to pull you towards him. He's trying to force his cock further into your mouth.

You look up at him, and the expression on his face is desperate, and lost. He's so close. He's barely hanging on. You want him to come. You want him to use you. You want him to give himself to you, and take everything you have to offer.

The hand you have braced on his thigh squeezes as you relax your jaw, and Hunter's eyes shoot open. The expression on his face is somewhere between awe and fear, and his body is tense, like a bowstring, drawn tight and ready to snap.

You squeeze your hand again, and he lets out a harsh breath. One of his hands comes up to cup the back of your head before his hips start to move, and then he's fucking your mouth.

It's rough. It's sloppy. It's perfect. His movements are frantic and uneven, and it's clear that he's not going to last. His grip on your hair tightens, and he fucks your mouth in quick, hard, strokes. It's so good, the feeling of him filling you, his cock sliding in and out, hitting the back of your throat. He's making the most beautiful noises, and you can't believe that you're the one making him sound like this. It's almost too much.

You look up at him through your lashes, and the sight is so overwhelming, that you can't stop the whine that escapes you. A flood of arousal pools between your legs.

His nostrils flare as his eyes flicker down to meet yours. He groans and fucks your mouth harder. You moan and arch into him. You're dripping with need. You can feel your underwear sticking to your cunt, and it's distracting.

"Fuck," he says, his voice hoarse, "are you getting off on this?"

You moan again. You can't help it. It's a reflex.

"Fuck," he hisses again. "Do you like it?"

You moan louder, and his breath catches. His movements stutter, and his grip on your hair tightens.

"You do," he says, and the look on his face is dazed, and disbelieving.

You squeeze his thigh, and he curses. His hand leaves your hair, moving down to wrap around the back of your neck. He pulls you closer, his hips bucking, and he's not pulling away now. He's holding you in place, forcing his cock deeper, and you relax your throat and take him.

"Good girl," he murmurs. The praise hits you like a blow, and you can't help but whine. "Fuck. That's good."

You whimper, and Hunter's hips stutter, and then he's coming. His grip on the back of your neck tightens, and his eyes slam shut. His whole body is tense, his thighs trembling, his cock pulsing as he spills down your throat. It's a lot, you can't swallow fast enough, and it drips out of the corners of your mouth. He's still making these helpless little sounds, and you can't tear your eyes away from him. You want to burn the memory into your brain.

He's beautiful. He's perfect. And you're pretty sure you're going to be ruined for anyone else.

You pull off of him slowly, and his hand drops from the back of your neck. His eyes flutter open to watch you catch the last bit of come on your tongue, and he inhales sharply. The sound is rough and broken, and when you lick your lips, he curses.

You smile at him, and he shakes his head.

"Shit," he breathes.

"How was that?"

"I...you...uh," he trails off, and gestures vaguely. "I can't. Words."

You laugh, and stand up, and press a kiss to the side of his jaw. Hunter turns his head, and kisses you. It's a soft, slow kiss, and you melt into it.

His hands are gentle on your waist, and when the kiss ends, he pulls you close, and holds you tight. He buries his face in the curve of your neck, and sighs.

"You okay?" you ask.

Hunter hums a response, and kisses your neck, and then your jaw, and finally, your mouth. He cups your cheek, and brushes his thumb across your lips, and then kisses you again, and the gentleness of it makes you dizzy. He kisses you until you're breathless, and then pulls away, and rests his forehead against yours.

"What do you need?" he asks. His voice is soft and low, and the concern in his voice makes you flush.

"What do I need?" you repeat. You're not sure what he's asking. You're not sure if he's asking.

"Yeah," he says. "It's only fair."

"You don't have to do anything," you say, a little awkwardly. "I was having a good time."

"I know," he replies, and the smugness in his tone makes you roll your eyes, "but I want to."

"Hunter…" you start, but you're not sure how to finish.

He doesn't seem concerned by this.

"You like being praised," he says. He's looking at you with an expression that's far too serious. You want him to stop. "And you like being held down. Is there anything else?"

"You figured all that out just now?" you ask. Your cheeks are burning. He can't tell what you like. You've barely started. This can't be happening. It has to be a coincidence. You can't be that easy to read. "We've barely done anything."

"I've been paying attention."

"That's..." you trail off. You're not sure what the word is. Embarrassing? Flattering? Surprising?

You keep forgetting how observant he is. It's unnerving, and thrilling, and a little overwhelming. 

"Why?"

He's quiet for a moment.

"Because I care about you," he says finally.

"You do?"

"Yeah," he says. There's no hesitation. No doubt. "I care about you."

"I care about you, too," you say.

"So," he continues, "can I touch you?"

You nod, and Hunter grins, and kisses you again.

"Come here," he says. He stands, tucking himself back into his pants before he takes your hand and leads you over to his bunk. He sits down on the edge and pulls you into his lap, and then his mouth is back on yours. 

The kiss is messy and uncoordinated, his lips soft and insistent, and he tastes like sweat and sex. You're a little dizzy, and the way he's kissing you isn't helping. It's distracting, and overwhelming, and when his fingers brush over the top of your breast, the sensation is so intense that you can't help but grind down on his thigh.

He makes a small, surprised sound, and his hands find your hips. The world blurs for a moment as he turns and presses you into the mattress. He's above you, his body a warm, solid weight, pinning you to the bed. You wrap your legs around his waist, and arch up, and he groans, and bites down on your shoulder.

"Shit," you gasp.

"Sorry," he says. He doesn't sound sorry.

"It's fine," you breathe. His mouth is still on your shoulder, and he sucks on the spot he just bit. You moan, and your head falls back. "Oh."

"Good?"

"Yes," you pant, and his hands slide up under your shirt. His thumbs trace the curves of your breasts, and he pushes the fabric up until he can expose your chest. His gaze drops, and his eyes widen.

"Kriff, you're gorgeous," he murmurs. Hunter braces himself on one hand and traces the swell of your breast with the other. He runs his fingers over the curve of your waist, and then drags his thumb over the underside of your breast. His eyes are fixed on the way your flesh dimples beneath his touch. "How are you so soft?"

He leans down and kisses the top of your breast, and then nuzzles his face between them.

"I want to touch every inch of you," he whispers, and the sensation of his breath on your skin is maddening. His hair tickles your chest as he moves his mouth to the valley between your breasts. "I want to kiss every part of you."

He presses a line of kisses up the slope of your breast, and then his lips close around your nipple, and you gasp. Your back arches, and your hands scrabble for purchase on the blankets. He sucks and scrapes his teeth across the sensitive bud, and then lets go, and moves his mouth to the other side. His fingers toy with the nipple he just abandoned, and you whine. He's being gentle, and slow, and thorough, and you're not sure how much longer you can take it.

"You're sensitive," he says, and he sounds delighted.

"You're taking too long," you manage.

He laughs, and the vibration from his voice, and the warmth of his breath on your skin, makes your toes curl.

"Patience," he says, and then his mouth is on your nipple again, and the sound that escapes you is half laugh, half moan.

He switches back and forth, sucking, licking, and biting. The movements are teasing and deliberate, and by the time he finally pulls away, your skin is red, and sore, and slick.

"Hunter," you whimper. You want more, you need more, and you're not sure how much longer you can last. "Hunter, please."

He doesn't answer, but he sits up and pulls your shirt over your head, and then reaches for the button of your pants. His fingers are steady, and sure, and his expression is intense. He's focused on the task at hand, and the look of concentration on his face is adorable. You want to laugh, but it's cut off by a gasp as he slips his hand beneath your underwear, and runs his fingers along the seam of your cunt.

"Shit," he breathes, and his voice is strained. His eyes are wide and bright, and his face is flushed. His pupils are blown, and his nostrils are flared.

You're not sure why, but the way he's looking at you makes your cheeks burn.

"Sorry," you mutter.

He gives you a startled look, and shakes his head.

"What?" he asks.

"It's embarrassing," you admit. "I'm...it's a lot."

"Embarrassing?"

You shrug, and look away, and then he's cupping your face in his hand, and tilting your head back. His touch is gentle, and the kiss he gives you is tender. It's soft and sweet and slow, and when he breaks the kiss, he leans his forehead against yours.

"Nothing about you is embarrassing," he murmurs.

"You don't have to say that."

"I mean it."

He looks you in the eye, and his expression is so sincere, so earnest, that your heart clenches.

"It's not embarrassing," he says, and there's a finality in his tone, like he's daring you to disagree with him.

"Okay," you reply, a little weakly.

"Okay." He kisses you again, and it's quick, and chaste, and sweet. He presses a line of kisses up your jaw, and then his mouth is on your ear. "Do you know how many times I've thought about this?" he asks.

You shake your head, and he chuckles. His breath is warm against the side of your face, and his lips are soft on your skin. You can't help but squirm.

"A lot," he whispers, and you feel his mouth curve into a smile. "So much."

His fingers are still stroking you, and when they press against your entrance, you whimper. He teases you, his fingers circling your opening, spreading the wetness that's already leaking out of you. It's driving you crazy, and he's not helping.

"Every time you're near me, I want to touch you," he continues. His mouth moves back down your neck, and he presses a kiss to your collarbone. "Every time you get wet, it drives me crazy."

"You can't be serious," you gasp. His fingers are still teasing you, and you want them inside you. "You can't smell that."

He pauses. His mouth is on the swell of your breast, and his tongue is tracing lazy patterns across your skin. He leans back and looks you in the eye.

"Of course I can," he says.

"How is that possible?"

"The same way I can smell everything else," he says, a little absently, and then leans down and runs his tongue across your nipple. You let out a shaky breath, and he glances up at you. "I've had to go jerk off in the 'fresher, just so I can focus."

"You're joking," you say, because there's no way. It can't be true. There's no way he's attracted to you that much. No one has ever been that attracted to you.

"Not joking," he murmurs. He bites down on the underside of your breast, and then his mouth moves down your stomach. His fingers hook into the waistband of your pants, and he tugs them down and throws them to the side along with your soaked underwear. His eyes are on your cunt, and the look on his face is a little awed, a little hungry, and a lot smug.

"Fuck," he breathes, and the tone of his voice makes your pulse jump. He leans forward and runs the tip of his nose over your pubic bone. You can't help but shiver. His breath is warm against your cunt, and his lips brush over your clit as he speaks. "You're so beautiful. So, so beautiful."

He presses a kiss to the top of your mound, and then his tongue is on you. His hands grip the inside of your thighs, pushing them up and apart, and the first lick is firm and confident, and it sends a jolt through your whole body.

"You taste amazing," he whispers.

You laugh, because what the fuck are you supposed to say to that?

He takes it as an invitation.

"So fucking good," he murmurs, and then he's licking you in earnest. He licks up the length of your slit, his tongue dipping inside, and then he drags it across your clit. You let out a strangled cry as he flicks the tip of his tongue against the sensitive bud, and your hands fly up to grab the back of his head.

"Hunter," you say, and it's supposed to come out as a warning, but it's too breathy, and too needy. He hums in response, and the vibrations from the noise make you clench around nothing.

"You're so wet," he murmurs. His breath is hot against your skin, and his voice is hoarse. "So wet, and so soft."

He licks his way back down, and pushes his tongue inside you. You cry out, and the noise is loud and obscene. It echoes in the small room, and you've never been so grateful for Hunter's enhanced senses. He's always seemed to know what to do, and he's not letting you down now. 

He fucks you with his tongue, and it's fast and sloppy, and he's making these needy little noises that send shivers down your spine. His nose grinds into your clit, and his tongue is pressing into the front wall of your cunt, and kriff, the feeling is incredible. It's overwhelming. You can feel the orgasm building, the pressure rising, and it's too much. You can't handle it.

You try to pull away, but his hands tighten on the back of your thighs, and he doesn't let you go. Instead, he doubles down. His tongue speeds up, and the motions are rougher, and more frantic. His teeth graze over your clit, and his lips wrap around the bud, and he sucks, hard. 

Your vision whites out, and you can't hear anything but the rush of blood in your ears. Every muscle in your body locks up, and then your release hits you, and you're lost.

Your back arches off the bed, your fingers tightening in Hunter's hair as you grind down on his mouth. The sound you make is raw, and broken, and you don't recognize your own voice. The pleasure is so intense, it almost hurts. 

A flood of wetness spills out of you, and Hunter moans. The sound is muffled by your cunt, and his mouth is still on you, and you can't stop yourself from moving against him. You keep riding his face, even though the sensation is overwhelming, and your hips stutter as you push against his mouth. 

You're not sure how long it lasts, and when the haze finally lifts, your body is covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Hunter's lips are still on you. He's still licking and sucking and kissing you, and it's too much.

"Stop," you say, and push his face away.

"Did you...?"

"Yes," you say. Your voice is unsteady. You're a little breathless.

"Are you sure?"

"Very," you reply.

"Oh," he says. He sounds dazed. "That was fast."

"Hunter."

"You were really turned on," he says. His eyes are bright, and he's looking at you like he can't quite believe what just happened. His mouth and chin are soaked with your slick, and the sight of him, flushed and disheveled, sends a rush of heat through your veins. "Was it that good?"

You laugh. You can't help it.

"Yes," you say. "I told you, I was already worked up."

"You really like me that much?"

You roll your eyes.

"Yeah, I do," you say. "Now you're just fishing for compliments."

"Maybe," he replies. He wipes his mouth on the back of his hand, and when it lowers, he's smiling. His eyes are sparkling, and the expression on his face makes you ache. "It's nice to be wanted."

"Get up here and kiss me," you say, and reach for him. The kiss is deep and slow, and it's a little sloppy. The taste of him mixed with the taste of yourself makes your toes curl. 

"But I also want to know what I did right for next time," he says as you break apart.

"Next time?"

"Yeah," he murmurs. He rolls over and pulls you on top of him. "Next time."

"You're very confident," you tease. You prop yourself up on his chest and smile down at him. His eyes are closed, and the look on his face is serene. He's happy. You did that.

"I am," he says. He cracks open an eye. "Was I wrong?"

"No."

"Good," he says. He reaches up and brushes a stray lock of hair behind your ear. "I meant what I said before. I like you."

"You're such a sap," you say. Your cheeks are burning, and your chest feels tight.

"Don't tell the others," he says. His voice is solemn. "I have a reputation to uphold."

"What do I get in return?"

"Hmmm," he murmurs. The sound is a little thoughtful, a little smug. He slides his hands down and palms your ass. "I can think of a few things."

"You have a deal," you say. You lean down and kiss him again. You're not sure how much longer you'll get to spend like this. You'll take every second you can get.

He rolls over and pins you to the bed, and when he kisses you, you lose track of how many times his mouth touches yours.

It doesn't matter.

This one is just the beginning.

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