#felucia | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

wolveria · 4 months ago

Text

What We Did on Felucia - Ch 2

Pairing: The Bad Batch x f!Reader

Series Warnings: Eventual smut, dubcon, slow burn, sex pollen

Chapter Warnings: Sex pollen, vaginal fingering, anal fingering, double penetration, vaginal sex, anal sex, Crosshair and Hunter causing Problems, Tech snuggles, best Echo and Wrecker sandwich

Chapter art here by @binkyisonline as part of @clonebang !

AO3

Echo didn’t waste any time and pulled you over to one of the tables, clearing it with a sweep of his arm. To your surprise, he laid back on the table and pulled you on top of him. You certainly didn’t mind having him beneath you, and he made a choked noise at your sudden wandering hands, frustrated at the thick armor in the way.

And then you understood why he arranged you in this position, and all rational thought fled your mind as Wrecker placed his hands on either side of your hips. You didn’t know whether to rub yourself against Echo or raise your hips in a silent plea for Wrecker to ease the insatiable ache.

So you settled for grinding down on Echo’s covered erection while also arching your back in hopes of what would seem like an invitation to Wrecker.

Echo sucked sharply through his teeth in what might have been a noise of pain but you knew wasn’t, his cock twitching against you. Wrecker’s growl was more impressive, and your hips ached pleasantly as his grip tightened.

“I’m sorry, General,” Echo said, the words soft, and you didn’t understand what he had to be sorry about. Something hard and hot dragged up the confines of your heat, and his name was on your lips in a way that shouldn’t have felt so right.

Echo cursed, his focus on his singular hand holding up his erection, and that just wouldn’t do. You reached down, nudged away his hand, and squeezed your fingers around him. He was even firmer and hotter than you had imagined, and you faintly wondered if they were all like that or if it was just him.

He made another strangled noise as the tip of his cock breached your entrance. Exposed and raw from the chemical, you were unable to hide the wince of discomfort as he stretched you open. Your years of training and high tolerance for pain seemed to have vanished along with your control, but it also didn’t stop you from trying to push down further.

“H-hold on, baby, hold on.”

His affectionate softness drove you to keep trying, but the barrier around your entrance remained stubbornly in place.

“Wrecker, lube.”

“Got it.” His response was all heated gravel, so different from the cheerful, buoyant Wrecker you were used to. “You want me to…?”

“Yeah. She’s too tight.”

“Right, o-okay, yeah—”

Echo could only hold you by one hip, so Wrecker had to grab you by the other to keep you from trying to impale yourself on his cock again. Your frustrated growl turned into a surprised moan as Wrecker’s fingers teased your entrance, slick with lube, and he slid a finger inside you.

“Kriff, you are tight,” he groaned. You were beyond response, hips raised and willing as he continued to breach you. Delicate at first, and then faster, and when he added a second finger, you cried hoarsely against Echo’s shoulder.

Strained and annoyed, Tech said, “Don’t make her orgasm, Wrecker.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.”

“And might I advise you start quickly. Time is a factor, and her sensitivity is much greater than I anticipated—”

“I said I know.”

His growl jumped up your spine, but Wrecker pulled away, the loss of his touch devastating. Echo’s hand went from your hip to gently brush along your shoulder blades, murmuring words of comfort you didn’t quite catch in your state of mind.

And then he jolted under you and made an undignified noise.

“Wrecker!”

“What? Your hand is busy, I’m helping!”

You didn’t have the right angle to see what happened, but you could still sense it, Wrecker slicking Echo’s cock with bacta gel, only letting go when Echo’s leg veered dangerously close to kicking him. With the sudden pleasure afforded by Wrecker’s hands, it was uncertain if the gesture was on purpose or simply a result of Echo being overwhelmed.

You could attest to that. It was getting more difficult to block out their need from your own, your grip on the Force like an oil-coated jelly trying to escape your hands, and you didn’t know how you would outlast the entire squad. You weren’t sure you cared.

Echo guided you down, telling you, “I’ll try to be careful,” in a soft breath, but you pushed, impatient and dripping wet. Even with the tight fit, you managed to take him inch by inch, making it the last half with the assistance of Wrecker holding your hips.

Fully seated on top of Echo, you could barely sit still, phantom throbs squeezing him without your input. His voice was strained and breathless under his helmet.

“You’re so… tight…”

And then, in a startled tone bordered on fear, Wrecker said, “General, y-you’re bleeding.”

You sensed Echo fight through his own haze as he looked between your joined bodies, and he immediately stiffened.

“We need to stop—”

“No,” you panted. “No stopping.”

The dull ache should have been worse, but it was distant, muted. Echo might be the most vulnerable to the chemical aside from you, but you sensed his dubious look even if you couldn’t see it. You looked over your shoulder at Wrecker, pleading.

“Wrecker, don’t stop.”

You sensed his nervousness and his worry, a stark contrast to the intimidating paint on his helmet. But whether he was willing to obey this order or he was too affected to stop, he didn’t pull you off Echo. He slicked his fingers again with the bacta gel, and with unnecessary gentleness, he pressed them against your hole.

The sensation was strange and unfamiliar, but so was Echo’s cock deep inside you, and you pushed back against his fingers. Showing surprising restraint, Wrecker held you still with his other hand splayed along your back, and his fingers slowly pushed inside.

His slow, careful pace was worse than any torture you’d endured before, and you shuddered, unable to stop the whines in your throat, and Echo’s hand replaced Wrecker’s in soothing up and down your back.

Wrecker finally removed his fingers, and even as you could sense his growing need to the point of discomfort, he was still hesitant.

“I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You- you won’t. Just… do it. Wrecker. Please.”

You’d never begged anyone of anything, let alone in front of your men, but it felt right. You would withstand any agony if it kept them a little bit safer. You would die for them, had killed for them, and letting them have your body in whatever way they needed was simply a natural extension of what you were already willing to give them.

Which was… everything.

Wrecker didn’t respond verbally, but the way he held your hips was resolute and full of intention, even as you sensed he was holding back most of his strength. The sudden pressure felt like it was going to split you in half, and something must have shown because Echo gently held the side of your face in his palm.

“Just… focus on me. It’ll be over soon.”

Why would you want it to be over soon? Why would you ever want this to stop. What else existed outside of this moment when—

You sucked in a sharp breath as Wrecker pushed again, his hands massaging the curve of your backside as he tried to lessen the pressure. Each inch was a battle, and when his groin met your hips as he sunk deep inside, you could finally surrender.

You didn’t know how Echo managed to stay so still, not with your walls snug around him or the increasing pressure as Wrecker filled an already tight space. But he had kept his focus on you, trying to hold your distraction away from the impossible intrusion.

But once they were both inside, their control seemed to snap together, all at once. There was not much you could do but brace yourself against Wrecker’s hard thrusts from behind and Echo’s fast rut from below. You were simply a thing to be used, bruising fingers gripping flesh for purchase as they chased their pleasure.

The noises that fell from your mouth were short moans and tortured whimpers as you clung to the precipice, literally and figuratively, your claws sinking into the table on either side of Echo’s head as you fought against a tide that threatened to swallow you.

You could count the orgasms you’d had on one hand, a result of strange, intrusive dreams you couldn’t remember when you woke, panting and shuddering. What would it be like to simply let go and experience the real thing?

You knew Echo and Wrecker would bring you there if asked, without hesitation, but… then the others would have to… and you wouldn’t even be aware of it happening—

A growl ripped deep through your chest as you squeezed your eyes shut. The image of your men having unimpeded access to your body nearly drove you over the edge, a shocking fantasy that apparently caught your interest.

Another mistake quickly followed; you let your attention stray beyond the table to the other clones. Their expressions might be hidden, but you could see tight fists curled next to thighs and stiffly held shoulders. Their potent need choked the air as they watched two of their brothers fuck you, cloying anticipation as they waited their turn.

Something creaked and then ripped as your claws went through the table, and Echo cursed under his breath, slamming his hips into yours and holding you tight. He throbbed deep inside you, filling you with warmth, and Wrecker followed soon after. They were surprisingly quiet aside from the occasional strained breath and low groans.

“You… are you…” Echo struggled to get out the words, “…all right?”

Before you could respond, Wrecker interrupted with a faint, “Uh-oh,” and then leaned against the wall as he slid to the floor. His body suit covered him now, but he hadn’t had time to replace his codpiece, unconscious as soon as he hit the ground.

Echo’s lax hand slipped from your back. With him still inside you, you carefully pulled off of him and crawled down until your feet touched the cold tile. You braced against the table, a sticky mess, and your legs wouldn’t cooperate, shaking as if the bones had lost their rigidity.

A warm pair of hands touched your shoulders, and you lunged. Tech made a strangled noise and tried to dislodge you from around his neck, unsuccessful. He was warm, the ache between your legs tortuous and empty.

“I was simply going to examine you,” he explained, but you were beyond speaking, burying your nose into the space between the neckline of his suit and his helmet where there was a sliver of bare skin.

“General, please, we can’t yet—”

You dragged your tongue along that hint of flesh and backed him against the wall, maneuvering his thigh between yours and grinding against the thick cloth covering his leg.

Another pair of arms grabbed you from behind and pried you off with Tech’s lack of gentleness, and you snarled and bit at the intruder. Your pointed teeth couldn’t sink into the armored gauntlet, and Crosshair’s voice managed to hold its typical sneer as he said, “Wait your turn.”

“This is hardly my fault,” Tech muttered as he adjusted the pieces of his kit you’d tried to dislodge. You struggled in vain against the arms around you, the use of the Force so far removed from your mind you didn’t even think to use it, and then you didn’t want to as Crosshair’s voice purred close to your ear.

“I’m going to take care of you now, princess.”

The unprofessional nickname in this circumstance sounded absolutely sinful coming out of his mouth, and you no longer fought against him, now arching your back and rubbing your backside against his crotch, frustrated the codpiece was still attached.

“Now, Tech,” Hunter growled. His posture was tight and wound up, and he actually flinched away when you reached out to him. Attention caught between Crosshair and Hunter, you were like a cub who couldn’t decide which toy she wanted to play with next.

“Before she starts biting again,” Crosshair added, his silken tone amused. “Though that could be fun, too.”

You still reached out to Hunter, frustration building as a growl in your throat when he remained out of reach, but your attention was focused back when Crosshair stroked his gloved fingers along one thigh. You opened your legs wider for him, but Crosshair didn’t do much else aside from keeping you in place.

You whined at this new torment, and Tech took the opportunity to move closer, kneeling between your legs. You struggled harder, and Crosshair had to tighten his grip on you.

“How… how is she?” Hunter asked, voice low with worry. The words washed over you, uncaught in your mind, and you hissed and arched your back when Tech pressed a bacta pad between your legs. The cold, wet material was a confusing mixture of discomfort and pleasure, and you whined pitifully.

“The bleeding has stopped,” he said as he removed the bacta pad. “I don’t believe there’s any damage beyond a torn hymen, though we won’t know the true extent until… well, after.”

“Is there anything more we can do?”

You sensed what it cost him to speak, to remain in control, the edge of Hunter’s restraint nearly as frayed as yours, and you tugged at him, snarling this time when Crosshair wouldn’t let you go.

“Could you go a little faster,” he seethed. Tech ignored him and addressed Hunter.

“More bacta gel should be sufficient.”

“Great,” Hunter said through clenched teeth. Tech pulled another bottle from one of the pouches on his belt and handed it to him.

“For you to apply before the, ah… next round.”

Hunter stood before you, but he hesitated when Tech got to his feet and moved out of the way.

“Come on, Hunter,” Crosshair drawled, and you sensed his frustration lined beneath the silky tone. “Don’t get cold feet now. You would have taken her already if we hadn’t stopped you.”

The snarl reverberated up Hunter’s throat, a primal noise that your instincts recognized and strained to give response, but the responses were incompatible. As one part of you wanted to meet the challenge issued, the other part wanted to run—not to escape, but to tempt him into the chase.

You couldn’t do both, and it left you confused and needy. Crosshair’s hand dragged up your chest to rest on your neck, gently cradling your throat.

“If you won’t come over here, I’ll gladly fuck her myself. Feel free to watch.”

Hunter strode forward in an instant, so close his armor almost touched you, and he glared at Crosshair over your shoulder.

“We’re not doing anything until we take care of her first.”

“You’re the one with the bacta.”

Hunter gave him one last silent look before he uncapped the lid of the small bottle. The too-sweet scent of the bacta filled your nostrils, but you focused on the lubricant coating his gloved fingers. Comprehension came slowly as the chemical put a stranglehold on higher thought, but you understood enough to know it meant he would touch you.

“Let me know if this hurts. All right?”

Pain would be welcome so long as his hands were on you, because nothing could be worse than this empty, aching agony.

“She’s no longer in a state of mind to give consent,” Tech said, “so I suggest you apply the bacta quickly and—”

Hunter’s wordless snarl had Tech looking up from his datapad with a surprised blink. He glanced at Crosshair, and you sensed the other clone returning the look with shared concern. Some distant part of you knew you should be worried too, that the chemical would affect Hunter more strongly than the others, but the thoughts slipped from your mind like water through a sieve.

Especially when Hunter cupped a hand over your sex, his bacta-slick fingers finding your entrance. You pushed against his hand, and he made a surprised noise when your walls clenched around his two fingers.

He made a swirling motion with them, feeling along the edges of your channel, and your claws sank into Crosshair’s gauntlet, leaving thin scratches on the Katarn-class armor.

With uncharacteristic gentleness, Crosshair stroked the outside of your thigh and purred encouragements into your ear.

“That’s good. You’re doing well, so well for us.”

You shut your eyes and moaned behind your lips, both at Crosshair’s sultry praises and Hunter’s fingers curling against a particularly sensitive spot. He did it again, as if to test it, and when you fluttered around him, he moved closer and purposefully pumped his fingers in a way that had nothing to do with medical treatment.

“Hurry up,” Crosshair snapped, his own patience sounding threadbare.

“I’m working on it.”

“Kriffing hell, Hunter, it’s not brain surgery!”

Hunter snarled, but he didn’t stop, and Tech noticed.

“Hunter.”

The sergeant’s helmet went at an angle, as if he was coming out of a daze or a dream. Tech exchanged another look with Crosshair, prompting the sniper to speak.

“If you want to take your sweet time, fine by me. But I’m not waiting.”

Hunter growled again, surrendering to the same instincts that drowned out rational thought and left you little more than a beast.

“Perhaps, we should split this engagement into two separate parts—”

“No need,” Crosshair interrupted Tech, and despite the tension in his grip, he managed to keep his tone relaxed and smug. “Hunter can play nice and share.”

Hunter’s glare was obvious even in his helmet, but then his posture stiffened as Crosshair nudged you forward, practically into Hunter’s arms.

“Hold this, will you?”

He offered no further explanation, not that you minded, immediately molding yourself against Hunter and trying to find the latches in his armor, but they remained hidden. You sniffed his neck, nosing at the point where his body suit met his helmet, but it remained sealed against your intrusion, and you whined at being denied.

Hunter still hadn’t moved, he barely breathed, until your frustration got the better of you and you bit his shoulder, sharp teeth sinking harmlessly into the thickness of his suit. He groaned and grabbed your hips, pulling you even closer.

“Good, keep her like that.”

The mystery of what Crosshair was up to was answered when warm, slicked fingers prodded against your hole, Crosshair’s other hand spreading you wider as he slipped inside you. First one, then two fingers, and a shock traveled up your nerves, still just as sensitive even after Wrecker’s large girth had pried you open.

Hunter didn’t give any indication he heard or understood Crosshair, and your focus was torn between Crosshair’s fingers and prying open Hunter’s armor. You managed to snap open the latch to Hunter’s codpiece, satisfaction humming through your veins as you tossed it aside, pulled open the front V of his suit, and gripped his length in your hands. It was hard and hot, and throbbed faintly in your hand as you squeezed.

Hunter made a noise between a long-held groan and a needful whimper, and you were very interested in that—and then Crosshair removed his fingers and nearly dislodged you entirely as he pulled you away from Hunter’s hold.

Crosshair was skilled at getting under people’s skin, and you weren’t excluded from that, but you’d never wanted to rend him apart the way you did in that moment. You snarled and lashed and scratched and bit, and the only reason he wasn’t a bloodied pile on the ground was because his armor took the brunt of it.

“Didn’t figure you for an aggressive lover, princess,” he said, the words teasing but his tone was strained with the effort of keeping you restrained. “Get over here, Hunter, before she kills us both.”

“Yes, she’s approaching the threshold of remaining in a lucid state—”

“This is lucid?”

Before Tech could answer, Hunter was pressed against you, lifting your leg with a hand behind your knee, and you immediately wrapped it around his waist and drew him closer. He groaned as the length of his cock dragged up your heat, but still, he hesitated to go any further, and you sensed the uncertainty breaking through the mindless lust created by the chemical.

You licked your lips and struggled to remember the shape of words on your tongue.

“Please…” you rasped. “It’s… worse. Need… need you both. Now.”

That was all it took; Hunter slid back, adjusted himself to notch the head of his cock against your entrance, and pushed. The relief was immediate, and you went boneless in Crosshair’s arms, arching your back so your hips were at a better angle for Hunter to slide in the rest of the way.

He gave another helpless noise, and Crosshair practically purred in your ear as he stroked your side.

“That’s it. Just like that…”

And then a second intrusion as Crosshair pushed his cockhead against your hole, and you stiffened, not used to the intrusion from either entrance. Hunter was far beyond the ability to speak, but he rubbed your hip encouragingly. Crosshair was less nice, rolling one of your nipples between his thumb and finger before pinching it.

Harsh pleasure sparked down your chest as you arched your back; Crosshair used the change in angle to push upward, pressing his slick length into your warmth, and you and Hunter both moaned at the intrusion.

Hunter growled a “fuck” indicating he had surfaced enough to curse about it. Crosshair, for once, said nothing, leaning the front curve of his helmet against the back of your head.

“Please,” you mumbled, desperate and insensate, little more than flesh seeking relief. “Need…”

“Y-yeah.” Hunter wasn’t better off, his words slurred as if he’d had too many shots of spotchka rather than been drugged in a Separatist lab. “We… we know. We got you, sweetheart.”

You throbbed around him, around them both, and Crosshair was the one to snarl this time, pulling back enough to give a sharp thrust back in, and that broke what little control Hunter had managed to find. His own wildness matched Crosshair’s, and within seconds they were fucking you hard and fast.

Their thoughts and emotions matched their physicality. It had been different with Wrecker and Echo; they had been dragged into their own fervor, but there had been a sweetness to their lust.

There was nothing sweet about this. Your men used you with bestial, primal need, and you were just as caught in the fever, your claws and teeth leaving faint marks in armor that was built to withstand blasters and concussive blasts.

“Been… wanting to do this… a long time.”

“Shut up, Cross,” Hunter panted, but he went ignored.

“She deserves… to hear it.” Crosshair’s fingers dug into your hips, his voice dark and honeyed. “Our pretty little Jedi.”

You whined. A very small, distant part of you wondered what had become of your shame. You were the furthest thing from a Jedi right now, and you’d surrendered too easily. Shouldn’t you have fought harder to avoid this outcome?

You throbbed around them, gasping for breath and sanity.

“S-slow down. You have to, to slow down, or I’m, I’m going to—”

Hunter’s hips stuttered and he pulled you close, bracing his helmet against your forehead, and something hard and strange pressed your entrance. You couldn’t focus, couldn’t look down to see what it was, because he groaned as if he’d been struck in the stomach as he throbbed deep in your gut.

A single curse left Crosshair when he pushed in as far as he could go, his own helmet braced against the back of your shoulder as he shuddered through his orgasm.

You didn’t know how you managed to hold off, their pleasure faintly echoing through the Force; it would have been so easy to let down your barriers and let it wash over you and carry you away to senseless bliss.

But then Hunter pulled out and tucked himself away too fast for you to get a look at him, and he wobbled as if the ground shifted beneath his feet. Crosshair also pulled out with surprising care, and you got the sense he wanted to linger, but then he stumbled back.

“Shit.”

“Tech,” Hunter said, sounding winded as he reached the wall behind him and braced against it. “Make sure she’s all right—”

He slid the rest of the way down the wall, unable to fight off his impending unconsciousness, and Crosshair joined him a few seconds later, stumbling and catching himself on the wall before half-collapsing next to Hunter. He managed to pull himself into a sitting position, leaning shoulder-to-shoulder with the sergeant before he passed out too.

Without them acting as your supports, your knees gave out and you sank to the floor, hunched forward at the intense arousal curdling into a burning agony. The threshold, Tech had called it. You would call it torture.

Warm hands once again settled on your shoulders, and like before, your body acted on its own. This time, there was no one to separate you, and he didn’t stop you from pulling close. In fact, Tech pulled you in first and lifted you in his arms, displaying the strength that was hidden behind his lithe frame.

Burying your head in his shoulder, you couldn’t stay still, trembling and squirming with that awful ache. It was beyond desire; it had become a punishment.

Tech set you on one of the tables, and when he pulled away, you cried out in dismay.

“Please, don’t—”

“It’s only for a moment. I need to dress you.”

“No, no, I need, need you, Tech—"

“I am aware.” His tone was brisk, but his eyes were soft. Understanding. “There will not be time after, and I would prefer the Separatists didn’t find you disrobed.”

Of course, it made sense. Thoughtful and practical, and it was still the hardest thing you’d ever done letting him go. When Tech pulled away, you caught sight of Wrecker and Echo still unconscious next to each other, though all of their armor had been reattached.

Despite being drugged and having to wait until the end, Tech still put the rest of his squad first. And now, he was doing the same for you. Warmth glowed in your chest, different from the haze of lust that clouded everything else.

Tech worked quickly, helping you put on your tunic and robes, wrapping the sash around your waist, your body suit left discarded on the floor. You realized you were going to have sex in your Jedi robes, with nothing underneath.

The desire struck you like a blow, and you were off the table and on Tech again, digging your claws into the cloth that covered his suit. He wore less armor than his brothers, and his eyes widened at the minimal protection between your nails and the flesh of his stomach.

“Ah, yes, we should start.” He cleared his throat. “I would like to lead, if you don’t mind.”

You didn’t mind what he did to you as long as he did it now, and he got the message when you backed him against the wall and attempted to trap his thigh between your legs.

“R-right.” He maneuvered you a few feet away, the progress slowed as you hindered his movements. “Lie down here, please.”

He laid your cloak on the ground like a makeshift blanket, and you did as he asked, bringing him down with you in one smooth motion that he took in stride. Unlike the others, you could clearly view his expressive eyes, how blown the pupils were and his need clearly painted within them. He might have more control over his desire, but he certainly experienced it.

You hooked your legs around his waist and brought him closer, groaning in happy satisfaction from his weight on top of you.

“Allow me,” he said, his voice wonderfully soft.

“Yes… Tech… whatever you want.”

And you meant it, with depths and dimensions he would never know. But that was all right, because right now, you had him.

He reached between you and unhooked his codpiece, pulling down the waistband of his body suit just enough to pull himself out. By the time he lined up with your entrance, you were dripping onto the cloak beneath you, permanently ruining it.

Impatient, you pressed down with your heels on his back, moving his hips forward, and he gave a strangled groan as the head of his cock slipped inside. Your own wetness mixed with Hunter’s come gave Tech a smooth glide, though he was thicker than you anticipated, and you were so full by the time he sheathed himself completely.

His gaze was sharp, focused, and dark as he pulled back and thrust into you again, brows creased in concentration. At first, he was testing with each thrust for your reaction, and then with a few more thrusts, he lost what control he had. He pulled your legs higher so they were just under his arms, and he thrust into you with rapid, pinpoint aim.

And you let yourself feel every inch of him, the pleasure tickling up your spine and shooting down your legs without needing to hold back. It also had the unfortunate side effect of making you babble without any thought as to what you were saying.

“Tech… take off your helmet. I want- I want to kiss you.”

The way his eyes pooled with black, you thought he might actually do it, but his voice was soft as he said, “Not… here. Not like this.”

You didn’t understand. You didn’t understand much beyond this sudden, desperate need to kiss him, and not just him, but the rest of his brothers. To feel their skin against your fur without their armor as a frustrating barrier.

Another source of frustration built inside you, and it turned into panic as you realized its source.

“I can’t… I can’t. Tech, I can’t…”

He slowed his pace to a crawl, his muscles quivering under your touch, but still he asked, “What do you need?”

You nearly sobbed with frustration.

“I don’t… I don’t know.”

You’d never explored this side of yourself before, and you didn’t know what it would take to go over that final edge.

But Tech did, and he pushed his hand between you, his gloved thumb against your clit.

“You can come now, darling.”

His thrusts were slow but deliberate, and as he began to rub your clit, he studied your face like nothing else existed. You never thought you’d be the subject of his calculating scrutiny, but now that you had it, you didn’t want it focused anywhere else.

“You’ve been doing so well for us. But you can let go now. I’ll catch you.”

You came with a cry, the pleasure so blinding all you could see was white. And then you crashed back into yourself, your flesh alive and thrumming, squeezing around Tech as if you were made for it.

His gasp was choked as he buried himself up to the hilt and spilled inside you, his grip bruising as he held your thighs around his waist. He didn’t move until you milked him of every last drop, and you would have kept him like that, pulled close as long as possible.

But weak numbness spread like a cold freeze across your limbs. Tech slipped out of you, rearranging himself and putting the codpiece back in place with clinical efficiency. And then he pulled down your robes and made sure you were covered, and his movements were somehow warmer.

With the consuming lust fading along with the orgasm, a sense of vulnerability replaced it, and you looked up at Tech, helpless to even raise your arms to hold him.

“I’m here,” he said, even though you hadn’t spoken. He laid on his side and pulled you to face him, bracing you against his chest in what could only be described as a protective embrace.

No, it was protective. He didn’t just have his back to the door, blocking you from sight of the entrance, but he had positioned you both as far from the entrance as possible. It wouldn’t stop the Separatists, but it was enough for the glow in your chest to return.

Soon, it became your only source of comfort as the cold darkness dragged you down, and the last of your fading awareness focused on Tech’s fingers threading your hair, his other hand braced against your back as he kept you close. Safe.

Wanted.

Next Chapter

#the bad batch x reader #tbb x reader #the bad batch #the bad batch fanfiction #clone bang 2024 #what we did on felucia #wolveria writes

39 notes · View notes