#shriv suurgav x you
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sinisterexaggerator · 6 months ago
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How would our 3 kings respond to you waking up crying next to them? (Not me having ptsd dreams early in the morning lmao)
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Bane would eye you, then roll over and go back to sleep. If he can't because you're crying too loud, he'd sigh and get out of bed. If he's feeling really generous with his time and has the mental energy for it, you might get asked: "what's with de waterwerks?"
Shriv would cuddle you and hold you close, whispering "it's OK" in your ear as he strokes your hair. Doesn't know what's wrong, and he won't ask, not unless you want to talk about it -- but he's there to comfort you until you calm down. He may even try to cheer you up-- "who do I need to kill?"
Hondo would wake up from a deep sleep, drool hanging from his mouth. "What, what?! Ded I du someting wrong?!" Poor man, confused and hungover. Probably doesn't even know what day it is.
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one-desperate-duros · 2 years ago
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*Shriv's ion engines are running low on fuel. Even the pods, the supplemental tanks are nearly depleted. He has just enough for one more jump.
His search had been fruitless. He has no leads. The bounty hunter does not want to be found, and he is not answering his comms.
Shriv would be lying if he said he was OK. He is racked with guilt and an all-encompassing sadness that just wouldn't go away. It was a form of intense suffering - something he hadn't quite felt before. Shriv is preoccupied and nearly paralyzed with an ache in his chest that makes him feel like he is dying, but somehow he manages to stay alive.
But, in the end the misunderstanding had been his fault, and he would have to live with that, or succumb to the only other alternative, and ultimately he has a job to do.
Shriv enters the last known coordinates of the Restoration into his navicomputer, praying to Maker he doesn't wind up getting himself stranded in the middle of realspace due to another poor decision. For once, luck is on his side, the vessel materializing before his windscreen as he deaccelerates from hyperspace and is met face-to-face with home, sweet home.
Shriv sighs out of relief, or maybe it's his continued misery, he isn't sure which.*
Restoration ... come in ... This is, um, Shriv Suurgav. Clearance code 7-3-Tau. Requesting permission to board, over.
"Permission denied, Danger one. Code insufficient."
*Shriv closes his eyes, frowning, takes a deep breath and then tries again.* This is, Alden, isn't it? There must be some mistake, I-
"No mistake. General Calrissian has not formally reinstated your authorization to board this ship."
Well, can you, I don't know, ask him?
"@man-with-a-big-cape is currently indisposed."
Alden, I'm running out of fuel here. I'm tired, hungry, and just want to sleep in my own damn bed.
"Please stand-by for instructions."
This is asinine!
*Shriv activates his X-wing's open comm channel, having an asinine idea of his own as he mumbles to himself* Inferno, Black, Jade Squadron. Come in. This is Danger one, over. I've seem to of ... been denied boarding.
*When silence greets him, he sits there for a moment. He thinks about letting himself and his ship just drift away until he loses power and freezes to death. Maybe it would be painless.*
'Oh, but that would be too easy.'
@inferno-commander, @black-squadron-commander, @norath-kev, anybody out there? Think I can ... tag along at the end of one of your patrols? Maybe they won't notice me, not that that's a hard thing to do, anyway. Over.
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kuwaiti-kid · 5 years ago
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The 20 Best Star Wars Books of All Time (Canon and Legends)
With the recent reveal of the Star Wars: The High Republic mixed-media series, now seems like a great time to look back on the novelizations, stand alones, and book series that have been an integral part of building the rich and expansive universe that we know and love today.
The first Star Wars novelization was released six months following the premiere of Star Wars: A New Hope. Ghostwritten by Alan Dean Foster, but credited to George Lucas, Star Wars: From The Adventures of Luke Skywalker was the first venture into worldbuilding beyond the cinematic universe.
Over the course of forty-three years, nearly five hundred books have been added to the Jedi Archives, uh — I mean the Star Wars library. In 2014, almost four hundred of these novels were decanonized by Lucasfilm to refocus the canon around The Walt Disney Company’s restructuring of the franchise.
The Expanded Universe was rebranded as Star Wars Legends, but it was far from forgotten by its fans or the authors of the new canon novels.
The Ten Best Star Wars Legends Books
Heir to the Empire by Timothy Zahn (1991)
You would be hard-pressed to find a fan of the Star Wars Expanded Universe who doesn’t love Timothy Zahn’s novels. He introduced us to beloved characters like Mara Jade and Thrawn.
Set five years following The Return of the Jedi, Zahn kickstarted the Expanded Universe with an enthralling story that followed the continuing adventures of Luke Skywalker, Princess Leia, and Han Solo. Grand Admiral Thrawn attempts to track down a pregnant Princess Leia, while Luke Skywalker faces off with the smuggler Mara Jade (who just so happens to be the former Emperor’s Hand).
It is by far one of the best stories in the Expanded Universe.
The Han Solo Adventures (Trilogy) by Brian Daley (1979-1980)
Daley’s series recently returned to Star Wars discourse after High Republic author Cavan Scott tweeted out his current reference material for another project.
The trilogy follows Han Solo and Chewbacca through their days as smugglers in the capitalistic Corporate Sector, as they uncover a slaving ring, rescue kidnap victims, and face-off with a religious cult.
If you loved  Solo: A Star Wars Story, you’ll love this trilogy.
The New Jedi Order: Vector Prime by R. A. Salvatore (1999)
Set twenty-one years following the destruction of the Death Star, Salvatore did the unthinkable in Vector Prime. Sanctioned by George Lucas himself, the character death depicted in this novel is the only original series character to die in the Expanded Universe.
It is the first novel in a nineteen-book series entitled The New Jedi Order. While this novel sacrificed the life of a beloved character, it also introduced the villainous race of the Yuuzhan Vong.
The original trilogy characters are paired off with the younger generation (the Solo children) throughout the novel, before converging at the crux of a devastating battle.
Star by Star by Troy Denning (2002)
The Yuuzhan Vong continue their ruthless campaign throughout the galaxy, leading Anakin Solo to concoct a dangerous plan to thwart their attacks. Denning’s novel delved a devastating blow for the Solo family as their youngest son Anakin Solo sacrificed his life to buy time for the rest of the team to kill the voxyn queen and escape from the Vong.
This is a book filled with death and destruction, and it proves to be a real page-turner.
Dark Journey by Elaine Cunningham (2002)
If you love Jaina Solo, then the tenth novel in The New Jedi Order series is the one for you. Dark Journey follows Jaina as she struggles with despair and her need for revenge following the death of her brother Anakin Solo and the Vong’s capture of her twin Jacen.
They retreat to the Hapes Cluster, where they encounter the grieving Teneniel Djo and the familial struggles of the Hapes. The Former Queen Mother attempts to arrange a marriage between Jaina and Prince Isolder — an offer Jaina rejects.
Enemy Lines (Duology) by Aaron Allston (2002)
This pair of novels can easily be read as a singular story. It follows Luke and Mara Jade Skywalker, Han and Leia Solo, Lando Calrissian, Wedge Antilles, and Jaina Solo as they respond to the Yuuzhan Vong’s capture of Coruscant.
Wedge is a stand-out character throughout this novel, and I believe this characterization is one of the reasons that he remains a beloved minor character. The rebellion’s determined efforts lead them to a victorious battle on Borealis, though the Vong are far from defeated.
Shadows of the Empire by Steve Perry (1996)
This novel was Perry’s contribution towards the ambitious mixed-media series (also called Shadows of the Empire) created by Lucasfilm in 1996. The series included both a novel and junior novelization, a comic book series, a video game, action figures, a soundtrack, trading cards, role-playing games, posters, and so much more.
Set between The Empire Strikes Back and Return of the Jedi, the novel introduced readers to the Black Sun criminal overlord, Prince Xizor, whose primary motivation is to seek vengeance against Darth Vader. He does that by plotting to murder Luke Skywalker once his heritage is revealed. It’s a brilliant book that can be read as a stand-alone or as part of the mixed-media experience.
Survivor’s Quest by Timothy Zahn (2004)
Three years following the marriage of Luke Skywalker to Mara Jade, the couple struggles to balance their marriage and their duties as Jedi. Led by an urgent transmission, they journey together on a quest to locate the remains of the Outbound Flight expedition, which had been destroyed by Grand Admiral Thrawn on the planet of Niruan decades ago.
Expecting to find a graveyard of destroyed Dreadnought ships, they are surprised to find intact vessels and signs of life among them. Luke and Mara Jade come up against the vicious Vagaari to rescue the survivors of the errant Outbound Flight project. If you love Mara Jade and Luke Skywalker — this is the novel for you. They are at their best when they’re working together.
Black Fleet Crisis (Trilogy) by Michael P. Kube-McDowell (1996-1998)
Sixteen years following the end of the Original Trilogy, Kube-McDowell’s novel picks up with an era of peace for the New Republic. This trilogy of novels sits somewhat outside of the canon of The New Jedi Order and X-Wing series and provides a slightly different approach to the beloved heroes of the universe.
Chewbacca returns to Kashyyyk to be with his son; Luke works towards higher Jedi enlightenment in a self-built hermitage on Coruscant. Unlike other novels that focus on the characters and their arcs, this series is more focused on political and military plots.
The story follows the genocidal campaign of former Imperial slaves, referred to as Yevethan forces, as they seek to conquer the Koornacht Cluster.
This story deviates drastically from what we know about Luke and Leia’s mother, Padmé, thanks to the prequel trilogy, as Luke travels to the planet Fallanassi to learn more about his mother’s homeworld. Overall the trilogy makes for a great Star Wars story.
Wedge’s Gamble by Michael A. Stackpole (1996)
Wedge Antilles and his X-Wing pilots, the Rogue Squadron, plan to infiltrate the Imperial High Command controlled Coruscant. Still, first, they free the imprisoned Black Suns criminals in hopes of bringing down the Empire.
The story is a race against time for the rebels as they work to take down the planetary shields protecting Coruscant. In the process, allies are lost, and a traitor is discovered among their ranks.
It’s the second novel in a ten-part series and proves to be a fast-paced read.
 The Ten Best Star Wars Canon Books
The Last Jedi by Jason Fry (2018)
Of the three novelizations included in the Sequel Trilogy era, Fry’s work stands out. He masterfully adapted Rian Johnson’s screenplay, Star Wars: The Last Jedi, and shed new light on aspects that may have been lost to the casual viewer.
The book provides readers with a look inside the heads and hearts of nearly every character seen in the movie — which genuinely enriches the story.
Star Wars: Bloodline by Claudia Grey (2016)
The novel delves into the ramifications of Senator Leia Organa’s heritage, as trusted allies turn against her at the revelation that she is Darth Vader’s daughter.
Grey delivers an incredibly poignant look into Leia’s psyche throughout this ordeal as well as how she handles balancing being a mother and a senator.
Star Wars: Resistance Reborn by Rebecca Roanhorse (2019)
If you were not overly thrilled with the dynamics between Finn and Poe in The Rise of Skywalker or were hoping to read more about Leia’s last days with the Resistance, this novel is a surefire favorite. Roanhorse truly knows these characters inside and out, and she brings a fresh, exciting adventure to bridge the gap between the Battle of Crait and the Resistance’s base on Ajan Kloss.
Leia works diligently to rally the forces after their defeat at Crait, which brings the familiar Inferno Squadron members, Shriv Suurgav and Zay Versio, into the picture. An interesting element of the novel is the recruitment of defecting Imperial forces that are welcomed into the Resistance. Overall the stakes are low in the story, but it still manages to deliver a memorable read.
Last Shot (Star Wars): A Han and Lando Novel by Daniel José Older (2018)
Created as a tie-in to Solo: A Star Wars Story, Older’s novel covers five storylines told in five parts with a mix of flashbacks between Han Solo and Lando Calrissian as they face a new threat by an old foe.
It also covers aspects of Han’s marriage to Leia, as well as his relationship with his young son, Ben Solo — which helps readers understand how things fell apart by the time The Force Awakens occurs. If you loved Daley’s Legends series about Han Solo, you’ll love Older’s novel.
Star Wars: The Aftermath Trilogy by Chuck Wendig (2016-2017)
The trilogy expands the extensive period between the end of Return of the Jedi and the start of The Force Awakens. Wendig introduces readers to Norra Wexley and her teenage son Snap Wexley (later seen on screen) and delivers an engaging storyline for Wedge Antilles.
The story follows the New Republic as they work towards defeating the remaining members of the Empire. This series also introduces Emperor Palpatine’s Observatory on Jakku — an exciting piece of foreshadowing for The Rise of Skywalker.
Star Wars: Thrawn by Timothy Zahn (2017)
The first in a series of three novels, Zahn returns to Star Wars and reintroduces Grand Admiral Thrawn to the Star Wars canon. The story begins with the exile of the Chriss warrior, Mitth’raw’nuruodo (Thrawn), and follows his path to the Empire alongside Imperial Cadet Eli.
Thrawn offers to serve Emperor Palpatine in order to protect his people. Throughout the novel, Thrawn’s calculated tenacity allows him to climb the ranks within the Empire, ultimately rising to the position of Grand Admiral. Thrawn is a fan-favorite, and this series is just the beginning of his storyline.
Catalyst: A Rogue One Novel by James Luceno (2016)
If you watched Rogue One and wanted to know more about Orson Krennic or Galen Erso, this is the novel for you. It covers Erso’s research into the energy kyber crystals under the Celestial Power project and follows his concerns as he realizes his research might be used for something devastating.
It’s an interesting approach to members of the Empire and shows the duality among the ranks and the inner confliction at the advent of the Star Destroyer. Familiar faces like Tarkin and Saw Gerrera also appear in this novel.
Battlefront II: Inferno Squad by Christie Golden (2017)
Golden’s novel follows the members of the Empire’s elite team of soldiers, the Inferno Squad, as they deal with the ramifications of the theft of the Death Star plans. The central characters, Lieutenant Iden Versio, Lieutenant Junior Grade Gideon Hask, and Lieutenant Commander Del Meeko, are all featured in the EA Game’s Star Wars: Battlefront II.
Versio and her team are tasked with eradicating the remaining members of Saw Gerrera’s Partisans, newly reformed as a terrorist cell known as the Dreamers. Gideon and Del infiltrate the Dreamers, while Iden is arrested for alleged sedition after intentionally revealing her disillusionment towards the Empire — which leads to the Dreamers rescuing her.
It’s not often that we get to see how members of the Empire fully believe that their actions are the right actions, and this novel delivers.
Alphabet Squadron by Alexander Freed (2019)
The first of a trilogy of novels focused on a group of New Republic pilots. The series crosses over with Marvel comic series Star Wars: TIE Fighters and has a forthcoming sequel novel Shadow Fall arriving in June. The book explores the costs of war in the wake of the Battle of Endor as it follows Yrica Quell, an Imperial defector.
Freed introduces readers to a colorful group of pilots (featuring X-Wings, U-Wings, and Y-Wings) who react with different degrees of suspicion when Yrica joins the squadron. It’s a compelling piece of fiction that is rooted heavily in the military aspects of Star Wars and strongly reminiscent of the 1990s X-Wing series.
Star Wars: Ahsoka by E.K. Johnston (2016)
Dave Filoni created Ahsoka Tano for the animated series Star Wars: The Clone Wars, and she quickly grew into one of the most beloved characters from the Prequel Trilogy era. The young adult novel starts with Ahsoka during the Siege of Mandalore and explains how she came to adopt the pseudonym Ashla after fleeing to the remote Outer Rim Moon, Raada.
In the shadow of the growing threat of the Galactic Empire, Ahsoka works alongside Bail Organa and the Rebellion to evacuate the at-risk villages on Raada. Obi-Wan Kenobi also appears in this novel and struggles with the grief of Anakin’s betrayal as he remains in hiding on Tatooine. Overall it’s a great novel exploring an aspect of Ashoka’s life that had yet to be explored.
The final season of The Clone Wars is currently airing on Disney+.
Choose Your Adventure
While we endure the post-The Rise of Skywalker world, there is an entire galaxy’s worth of Star Wars novels out there to read.
Check out your local library or used bookstore and track down some of the older Legends books or jump on Amazon and pre-order the new The High Republic series.
Choose your own adventure, and as always, may the Force be with you.
The post The 20 Best Star Wars Books of All Time (Canon and Legends) appeared first on Your Money Geek.
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sinisterexaggerator · 10 months ago
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Oh my God, @dukeoftheblackstar did it again! This time it's Damgaav!!!! I love these two. This is so cute. Thank you! This art made my week.
by scent.2002 || Meta
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sinisterexaggerator · 1 year ago
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Can you please write more Hondo?
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Finish what you start
Hondo Ohnaka x Fem! Reader
Summary: Hondo Ohnaka catches you pleasuring yourself in his absence.
Word count: 3k+
Warnings: Masturbation, mutual masturbation, dirty talk, pining, blowjobs.
Notes: I wrote a fanfic like this for Shriv Suurgav and decided I wanted to try the same scenario for Hondo. Cad Bane may be next! Let's make it a series! ;D Shoutout to @allsystemsblue and @downrightembarassing for cheering me on and letting me bounce ideas off them - we all agree Hondo smells fabulous and practices good hygiene.
*This will probably be the last time I can post a fic before moving, but I have another Hondo one shot in the works - stay tuned! ;D
P.S.: I POSTED THIS FROM BATUU (Yes, I waited. I’m literally in line for Smuggler’s Run this very minute and they are talking about Hondo on the comm. 😭😭)
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For once, you were bored. Florrum was all fun and games until the ringmaster of this circus abandoned his big top - Hondo Ohnaka had left you stranded by your lonesome in his lair with some dozen Weequay whose names you could not recall. You wandered its dingy corridors, dined on its sumptuous and delicious foods, drank of its rare and expensive beverages, and even sampled the more local fare – the green ooze known as “pirate’s brew” was an acquired taste and your palate preferred lush, full-bodied wine. Luckily for you, there was plenty to go around and then some, yet Ohnaka’s men did not seem all too pleased that you were there.
However, this did not bother you, going so far as to stick your tongue out in disrespect to one burly pirate who would not stop giving you the stink-eye. You were immune, as Hondo had long ago instructed them to give you anything your heart desired, one additional rule being that no harm should come to you as long as you resided within these halls.
Still, that did not mean it was their job to entertain you – that was Hondo’s area of expertise – and currently your jester king had decided it was best to leave you in the dark on his present whereabouts.
No doubt his exploits were dangerous and full of thrills. You were a mite jealous, wondering if one day he might take you along, or, if  on another day he might simply tire of you. He was a fickle lord, and you were his lady  - at least for now, and you were well aware your good fortune might come to a hasty end.
But, in that moment, you found yourself to be missing him. Hondo had been gone two days already and no other being on this dust ball of a planet wanted to give you the time of day.
After imbibing more than your fair share of drink for the evening, you retreated to your quarters – Hondo’s quarters – desiring nothing more than to be held tightly in his arms. You sighed deeply, knowing that you were not to get your way.
As your inebriation caught up to you, you sashayed forward, though the scourge of the galaxy was not here to watch you sway your hips. You fell face first onto the bed for the sake of playing into your own imaginary holodrama; you guessed you must appear to his crew like a forsaken hound waiting for its master to return.
Oh, but that is when you caught his scent, the Weequay’s sweet-smelling pheromones mingling with his cologne. The man was a fop for lack of a better word, his personal hygiene at the top of his priorities list. You were thankful for it; he smelled like dreams made of candy, dark undertones of something more sultry and seductive comingling together with sugar and spice, though you could never put your finger on what exactly it was he liked to wear.
You took a deep inhalation, burying your nose in the blankets and sheets beneath you as you let a dejected noise escape, wishing so badly that it was his crimson coat beneath your groping hands and not his ornate coverlet. Still, even in his absence, his heavenly aroma had roused within you a sleeping giant, one that demanded to be attended to – a sudden, all-encompassing lust that you were afraid would not be quieted lest you do something to ward it off.
But you could not pry yourself free of your plush prison, doomed by the provocative fragrance that had already flooded your nostrils. You flipped your body over to stare at the ceiling, all thoughts replaced by your truant pirate king. His toothy golden smile, the butter smooth intonations of his voice – it was the auditory equivalent of velvet, those sweet nothings he whispered in your ear enough to set your loins on fire.
Just thinking about it had already prompted your body to react as if preparing itself for the man’s admittance. You groaned at your desperation for him, somewhere between annoyed at yourself and in dire need of his patented affections. Instead, you took to hiking up your skirt, your own fingers sliding beneath the hem of your panties -  you were honestly surprised with how wet you already were.
You cursed his name as your writhed gently atop his luxurious bed, not bothering to even lock the door, though you were sure no one would dare disturb you - not that they cared to, anyway; you were positive the rest of Hondo’s men preferred it when you kept to yourself.
You gently massaged your clit, taking your time with yourself, mind focused on the idea of Hondo mounting you, his cock so unbelievably flawless you wished he was there to ram it inside you. He would do anything you asked; he would give it to you any way you might be keen to try, for Ohnaka was not one to skimp on lovemaking as he liked to call it.
You giggled to yourself before it turned into a moan; you were so entranced with your daydreaming that you did not hear the door slide open or the act of your beloved sitting himself down in a chair that was located just adjacent to the bed. Had you noticed, you would have seen the grin etched onto his striated face, Hondo settling in by way of a leg tossed casually over one of the chair’s two arms.
With eyes closed, you bit into your lip, turning your head in your self-sought pleasure to make yourself more comfortable. As you opened them once more you gasped, though you made no other sudden movements, having been caught red-handed by the scoundrel as he carefully scrutinized you with slanted, stormy greys.
“Please, continue,” he stated nonchalantly, though his mood was difficult to determine by his tone.
With your mouth open in shock, you simply stared at him; that was his cue to lean ever so slightly forward, Hondo’s eyes gleaming from beneath rectangular cuts of transparisteel as the grin he wore coiled into something a tad more lascivious.
“What are you tinking about?” he questioned, quickly followed by another query. “Es et me?” Then, he answered himself on the next beat, even as you continued to gaze straight through his goggles into slatey irises. “Of course et es.”
You moved to rise, barely lifting your neck before Hondo interjected a command: “Ap-ap-ap! Stay right dere, my dear. You must finish what you started.”
You gave him your best pout, but he was not convinced to interfere, motioning with a dismissive wave of one hand for you to proceed with touching yourself as he stayed seated before you. Observing that you chose to remain immobile, he had an idea.
“Let me add some reality tu dis fantasy of yours,” he quipped, rising to turn on some music that he favored.
The man began to dance, removing his signature coat one sleeve at a time for it to be tossed haphazardly onto the back of his chair. It was obvious he was making a show of it, putting no real effort into the act of being seductive, though his hands traveled the expanse of his own torso, waist, and hips before he sillily flipped his braids over the edges of his shoulders.
You couldn’t help but to laugh as you kept laying there, Hondo halting his performance abruptly to press a hand to the center of his chest. He scoffed, asking you something in a tone indicative of offense, yet you were sure he was only kidding: “You dare laugh at me? Am I not sexy tu you?”
Your giggling paused, Hondo walking away from you and back toward the seat he had vacated earlier. “Den you entertain me,” he said with finality.
Your lips trembled; he was always so hard to read, the pirate’s true nature still a mystery to you. Presently, you kept your gaze trained on the man as you cried a pathetic sound of longing. He was not impressed, that one leg kicking itself back up as he idly stroked the frills along his jowls.
“Come, my love,” he encouraged you with a sudden change in his disposition, his somewhat confusing demeanor melting away as it was replaced with something softer and more genteel. “Touch yourself for Hondo.”
That was all it took, at once your body’s arousal rekindling as you began to fondle the little nub between your legs.
“Yes, yes, just like dat, little one,” he complimented, his words urging you to refocus your attention.
He watched you for a time, Hondo’s own carnality easily being activated by the study of just how you chose to caress your little cluster of nerve-endings; they were housed between flower petals of flesh and blood, the pirate beginning to feel a twitch down below his beltline.
“Now, imagine my fingers gently exploring de curve of your waist, de … soft tissue of your breasts, hm? Maybe my tongue would like tu explore as well, ah?” he crooned, his voice low and licentious.
The pirate was deliberately working you, even as his own hand came to rest against the outside of his trousers. His cock jumped at the first sign of acknowledgement, as if just as greedy as the minx upon his bed to be stroked and coddled, which was not out of the realm of possibility.
You quivered on his lavish sheets, the fodder with which he was feeding your depravity effortlessly invading your mind’s eye. How you wished he would just shut up and actually touch you, yet you stopped yourself from voicing your sentiments out loud.
“Maybe et would like tu work at suckling dose exquisite tits,” he mused. “Or perhaps et would like tu very, very slowly invade your mouth for a most warm and wet kiss.” He punctuated the last word of his sentence just so, his statement having a questioning lilt, as if he were also curious what he might do should he allow himself access to your pleasing form.
“Hm, yes-” he started, his tone turning a shade darker, “-et might swirl and flitter with yours, plunging far, far down your throat, so deep dat you will never forget de feeling.”
His teasing sent shivers up your arms and down your legs, radiating outward from your core as you wriggled like a pinned insect among folds of deluxe bedding, your body aching for release.
You were so lost in his dirty talk that you failed to notice Hondo unbuckling his belt; it was emblazed with the symbol of his gang, though for now it lay slack to either side as he carefully unbuttoned his trousers to remove his cock from its cloth imprisonment.
“Ah, but remember, I will not be satisfied with just. one. taste,” Hondo reminded you, his long, ring-bedecked fingers beginning to caress the length of his prick as he settled more snugly in his seat.
“I would trade en lips above for lips below,” he whispered throatily, his words a deep rumbling in his chest. The pirate began seeking his own high, eyelids drifting to half-mast as he leisurely thumbed the head of his hardened cock.
Your teeth returned to tug at plump flesh as you ever so slightly quickened your pace, the increasing friction of your fingertips gliding vertically over your throbbing bud causing you to expel a pitiful mewl. You looked over to your king, at once whining your disapproval – you wanted to be the one handling his cock.
Still, the sight only aroused you further, but not as much as the next few utterances that passed beyond the witty thief’s gilded teeth.
“My tongue tracing de folds of your cunt - and ah - you are already so wet, aren’t you?” he asked, though he had not expected any sort of answer from you.
You gave him one anyway, breathing out an airy “yes” which he ignored, but a discerning eye could see the hint of a smirk smugly twitching at the corner of his thin-lipped mouth.
“Et sweeps across your slit, delving inside you. Maybe et tickles, but ah, et feels so good.” He placed his hand more succinctly around his girth, beginning to pump himself by way of an enclosed fist, Hondo deciding to take part in this daydream to the fullest extent.
“Mm, but I pay de most attention tu de little button dat resides at de tippy-tip-top. Dat es your favorite part,” he mused, the visual aid of him eating you out causing you to whine in yearning as you fretted all by your lonesome on his bed.
“I would flick-flick-flick your clit with de utmost precision and care,” he assured you, “lapping up every. bit. of pleasure you so graciously proffer me.” He hummed to himself for a moment, relishing the perfect speed at which he had taken to addressing his own needs.
“Den I would suck et between my lips, continuing tu dine on you as if you were a delicious meal I must consume. And my dear, you are,” he confirmed, as if there had ever been any doubt.
You moaned again as you were close to the brink, your constant rubbing in addition to Hondo’s narration of your masturbation session nearly having worked its magic. You kept your gaze trained on the man and his decidedly pretty dick, pining for it to be snug within your walls. It was as if the scoundrel read your mind, picking up his tale where your imagination had left off.
“Now dat you are so very ready for me, darling, I would take de plunge. Oh, and you take et, so, so well. Every inch es so satisfying, hm?” He subsequently snickered, peering at you from across the way with drowsy eyes.
“Your desire for me es practically palpable, little bird,” he announced despite it being obvious, yet your thoughts did not wander far from the imagery he had placed inside your head even as he playfully derided you.
Hondo picked up his tempo, palming the full breadth of his cock as he envisioned himself steeping his stout prick in and out of you, your depths warm and slippery with your excess.
You had sulkily frowned in agreement, your breath quickening as you approached the edge of your orgasm. Nearly there, your hips gently bucked beneath the soft fabric of your dress, your heart anxious for the pirate to stop narrating and start fucking you until you couldn’t walk straight.
Instead, you were left to your own devices, Hondo apparently close as well as his storytelling capabilities were dwindling, though he still had sense and wits enough about him to weave the next bit of his risqué yarn.
“So slow at first, just a steady en and out, like de ebb and flow of an ocean on some distant, watery planet.” 
“Mmn, mhmm,” was all you had the capacity to say in return.
“I hit all de right angles, for I always do. And you know dis,” he confirmed. “Back and forth, deeper and longer strokes, all de while my deft fingers massage your pretty pearl.”
He beamed at you, his smile brighter than the highly charged particles dispelled at lightspeed off the backs of ion engines, though you were only half cognizant by now of your surroundings.
“And den,” he added simply, “you will cum for me.”
The low notes spoken in that deep baritone, the glint in his glacial grey eyes behind his ever present goggles – you unraveled at the seams as Hondo praised your obedience to his surprisingly well-timed command.
“What a good girl you are,” he concluded.
Delectable mewls escaped your lips in intervals, the air stored inside your lungs expelled in spurts along with them; your hips gyrated gingerly in place of their own volition as you rode the wave of pleasure to its end.
Hondo all the while studied you as he unabashedly continued to guide himself toward the finish line, using the beautiful visual before him to assist him in this process. Then, the Weequay hummed once more; it was a little melody you did not recognize and meant for no one but himself.
You relaxed for all but ten seconds, feeling your own body lose its tension as the breathing of your lover increased its rapidity and fervor; he was about to climax — you refused to let him, not without your aid — you would be damned if you didn’t have your way.
He had his, after all.
You sat up straight, gathering the edges of your skirt so as not to trip as you launched yourself theatrically forward. You tumbled purposefully onto your knees, though making an effort not to bruise yourself, the pirate’s askant eyes expanding before instantaneously contracting. Gold teeth were exposed as he eagerly watched you collect his cock, his upper lip curling outward to add a smidge of something villainous to his expression.
Oh, but it quickly faded from his handsome face as you imbibed his member to the base of its shaft, your tongue running semicircles around raised ribs before you puckered your cheeks to suck greedily to your heart’s content. You sighed languorously at the feeling of it brushing against the back of your throat, murmuring a happy sound as you knew he would not last long.
Hondo’s breath hitched in his lungs before he lifted one hand to fiddle with your hair, mind clouded with buzzing thoughts as he tried to get a handle on his speech.
“So eager,” he muttered, tenderly tracing the curve of your cheek with the back of his index finger. Thick quadriceps tightened, overall the Weequay’s muscles clenching before your mouth finally received the prize it sought.
Hondo’s body slowly unwound itself, decompressing with every pump of semen that shot to the back of your throat, lithe digits remaining to lovingly pet your locks as he gazed down into your eyes — you were staring up at him as you guzzled every last drop he had to give, your muscles working overtime to usher his ejaculate down into your belly for safekeeping.
“And so very thirsty,” he purred, dick still sporadically lurching as you drained him dry. He was not one to tap out, but you were capable of detecting when the man was spent. You skimmed the head of his cock with your tongue for good measure, licking up any that had managed to dribble down.
“You. are. magnificent,” Hondo extolled, failing at first to regain his equilibrium. However, he was not exactly in a hurry, more than willing to sit here a while longer than anticipated.
“You left me,” you puled, kissing the mushroom tip of his alien phallus before you laid it to rest against his spreadeagled thighs. You kissed those, too, fingers traveling over what felt like solid rock, pouting as the pirate gently lifted up both your hands to cradle between his own.
“And for good reason!” Hondo declared with renewed vigor, planting his lips against the center of your palm. Then, he released you, moving to adjust his genitals and to refasten his pants.
“Come, let me tell you a story over a proper drink-” he chuckled, “-see if we can curtail dat insatiable thirst of yours, my dear.”
You accepted his invitation, more than thrilled to keep him company, and, if you played your cards right, you were sure you could convince him for another round – drinks or otherwise.
-----
Reblogs / comments / likes appreciated!
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sinisterexaggerator · 1 year ago
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Small Victories
Pairing: Shriv Suurgav x Fem! Reader
Summary: Shriv catches you masturbating.
Warning: NSFW / 18+ for oral sex and fingering.
Word count: 2.3k
Notes: Whipped this out last night. Just so sick of not posting anything! Screw you, responsibilities! Maybe I will write this same scenario for Hondo Ohnaka and Cad Bane, too.
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It was rare that Shriv left his post any earlier than two hours after his scheduled shift was over, and even rarer still that he left prior to its end. It seemed that all the stars of the galaxy had aligned, the weary pilot set to jet the minute permission was granted.
He had spent too many rotations away from you, enough that his gripes and complaints had finally been taken seriously – he had asked for time off – time to take his gal out for a much deserved dinner date in one of the finer establishments of Coruscant. Though the New Republic was far from perfect, at least now he could afford to eat more than rations and drink something besides stale caf.
In his book, that was a win. Small victories: they were just as needed as bigger ones, sometimes more so as they boosted morale and kept one’s spirits up. But this - this was wholly different. This was important. This was a chance to do something nice for you when you least expected it – he only hoped he didn’t kark it up.
He supposed it might be hard to. As of late, the only thing you seemed to want more of was his presence. Truth be told, he was having feelings about you – feelings that hadn’t always been there, but that had shown up out of nowhere – ones that made his heart go thump thump in his chest if he dwelled too long, or ones that made him bite his lip when he caught himself daydreaming in places he definitely shouldn’t be.
“Don’t look now, Suurgav, but the General seems miiiighty pissed.”
So, he did what any nice guy would do – or so he thought. He wasn’t entirely sure, but he had heard a thing or two hanging around the other pilots who had managed to keep their partners considering their hectic schedules – patrols weren’t always easy – he could be gone for days, weeks, and no personal comms were allowed when on active duty. Honestly, he was surprised you didn’t get bored waiting around. It was a blessing, was what it was.
Shriv counted them every day he managed to stay alive.
Flowers. And chocolate. It was imported, as most everything was on this entirely too big ecumenopolis. He had a time finding any, or at least the kind that was in his price range, but he would be damned if he returned empty-handed. It was said chicks dug it; he had never tried the strange smelling stuff. He had heard stories about candy rotting your teeth – Shriv had enough to worry about already.
Approaching your modest apartment on one of the many lower levels of this busy planet, the Duros could at least still see the sky, or what there was of it, airspeeders and luxury hovercars dotting nearly every speck of open space.
He knew the keycode. You had long ago given it to him. Normally, he would never abuse his privileges, but he wanted this to be a surprise.
Upon entry, your domicile was quiet except for the viewscreen in your living room playing back some old holoromance type-thing, Shriv gazing at the moving pictures for a moment as he took in the scene.
“Huh,” he enunciated dryly, tilting his head to the side. It looked like the two humans were attacking each other, but both of them were as bare-assed as the day they were born. By the way the woman was yelling out, he was for sure the guy was hurting her. He blocked it out though he could have easily tried to analyze your choice of programming, moving onward toward the only other room in the house – the one you slept in.
The door was open, so he crept up toward its righthand side, Shriv peeking around the corner slowly, precious chocolates and a bouquet of Ithorian roses that were near to the color of his scales being clutched behind him in one hand.
What he saw was not what he expected, but it was also not unwelcomed – you looked freshly showered as your hair was still damp, and you weren’t wearing any clothes.
He had assumed you might be napping, but he found himself to be utterly fascinated in that instance by the expression across your face, two of your own fingers fondling the special nub that lay between your legs - it was snuggly sequestered between lush folds of downy flesh.
You were making delicious little sounds as you pleasured yourself - sounds he had only heard when he was embedded deep inside you - the somewhat skittish Duros feeling just a tiny bit brave as he stepped fully into view.
You did not notice right away; he had been as quiet as a mouse, the pilot gingerly placing his gifts down on the table that resided near to the entrance of your boudoir.
“Am I … interrupting something?”
You screamed outright, jumping back across the pillows to the head of your bed as you threw the covers over yourself, Suurgav’s face falling as he took on an apologetic appearance for having frightened you.
“Fullua, I-”
“Shriiiiiv,” you cried out in your most nasal, over-the-top voice, “you scared the banthashit out of me!”
“Wait, don’t stop. I was enjoying that,”  Suurgav quipped smugly, having somewhat recovered. “Looked like you were, too.”
A blush colored your cheeks. “How long have you been here?!” you asked anxiously.
“Long enough,” he cockily replied, pushing off the frame of the door with one elbow – he had temporarily taken to nonchalantly leaning against it, though inside his excitement was building upon itself.
You studied his movements, having forgotten just how good he looked in person, so short was your time together. And God, those arms – his biceps alone – they were incredible.
“I wasn’t expecting you-” you began, watching as your lover approached with a glint of something mischievous in his gorgeous ruby eyes.
“-Should’ve told me that’s how you like it,” he whispered sternly, placing one knee onto your mattress as it sank beneath his weight. Soon after the other joined, Suurgav crawling forward as he lifted the edge of the blanket guarding your nakedness, the cool sensation of his flesh pressing against you as deft fingertips began to massage and grope your thighs.
“Mn, I was just … “ Horny is what you wanted to say, though you thought that might be obvious. “Lonely without you,” you confessed, not desiring to so readily admit he had been the very thing on your mind as you sat there touching yourself.
“That why those other two naked humans are in the living room? They here to keep you company?” he asked casually.
You shivered when his fangs grazed against you, yet the thing you were most worried about was what had come out of his mouth.
“What?! Who!” you blurted out, meaning to rise. The Duros kept you in place, wide palms splayed over the bulk of your legs as he tacked you to the bed.
“The holo,” he whispered along your silky skin, your anticipation increasing as you could not see what the man was up to; his bulbous head was hidden beneath your linen sheets as he sporadically kissed different parts of your sumptuous form.
“Oh, that…” you trailed off, embarrased. You had forgotten you had left it running, having become aroused halfway through the film - it was a somewhat tasteful porno with minimal plot – something about a bounty hunter coming to collect.
“Mhm, that-” he filled in the silence, quick to add, “-hey, so, it was like this, right?”
Your limbs involuntarily shuddered as the pad of a cold thumb brushed against your clit, though it did not stop there. The Duros trailed the moist slit of your sex, gathering your slick to lubricate himself before gliding back upward, then settling across your already throbbing bud.
“Or a little more like-” He applied a scant amount of pressure, massaging the sensitive protrusion of glands that had already been given a head start; you moaned softly as your hips rolled beneath the sheets, pinned succinctly by his bodyweight.
“Just like that,” you breathed, your voice an airy whisper as your eyes began to close.
“Mn, yeah? You like that?” The grin he wore was evident by his tone alone, his deep baritone sounding as flat as it was salacious. Shriv indulged himself by aligning the tip of his index finger with your already aching cunt.
It broached the entrance, the Duros carefully inserting its full length inch by inch - his fingers were one of your favorite attributes.
“How about now, sweetheart,” he asked offhand, knowing more or less the answer to his question as you writhed in rhythm with the thumb unhurriedly circling your clit.
You could only moan again in return, Shriv curling that adroit digit inside you, pressing up against the seat of your pleasure as he gently coaxed you to cum. You held off, shaking your head even as your breathing quickened. You refused to let it end so quickly though you could hardly last when Suurgav put his mind to it.
“Playing hard to get, are you?” the Duros questioned snidely. His attitude was partly a charade; this was only meant to rile you. He knew you loved it when he talked you through it - you had admitted long ago his voice was a turn on for you - something he had been confused by, but ultimately accepted.
“Mmhm,” you hummed through compressed lips, your arms rising so that your fingers could claw into the pillows that rested just beside and below your head.
“Time to bring in the heavy artillery, I think,” he mused out loud, Shriv retracting the finger massaging your innards to leave you empty and whimpering.
“You don’t stand a chance,” he teased, Durosian digits grasping your thighs once more to spread your legs apart, stretching you taut. You pretended to struggle, though more than enjoying the sensation of being bound by the force of pure muscle, Shriv burying his rostrum directly in your pubic mound.
Your breath hitched in your throat, and he had not even touched you yet; Shriv laughed wryly, that cool, wet, artful tongue finally taking its first lap at your pulsating clit.
“Fuck,” you muttered, the Duros administering another long, drawn out lick from the base of your cunt to the top of your slit, concentrating at its apex on the little button that gave him access to all your secrets, or so he thought. He flicked at it repeatedly with a dexterous tip, the warmth in your belly surging toward the cusp of your sex.
“Maybe,” he shot back before plunging the entirety of that thick muscle inside you, it churning and roiling at a slow but steady pace. Shriv was in no rush, the Duros eating you to his heart’s content in the most deliberate and thoughtful way; he slipped back out of you, once more focusing on your thrumming bud.
His forefinger returned, languidly pumping into your pussy as he cooed into your cunt, Shriv’s cock hard as ducracrete as he was content to hump the bed in time with the undulation of your hips.
Your hands searched him out, running the course of his shapely head. They smoothed over its surface, featherlight, the Duros appreciating your affections as he enticed your body to the verge of an orgasm.
“Mn, Shriiiv,” you crooned, guiding him closer by the back of his large cranium. With that he quickened his speed, shifting his grip  to spread your lower lips apart with two elongated thumbs, homing in more precisely on that part of you that made you squirm and gasp when he hit it just right.
It's what finally made you come undone.
Your chest rose and fell rapidly as you tried to control your breath as Shriv continued unabated, chuckling all the while at your little twists and wriggles until he himself was satisfied - that was not until your fingernails were nearly shredding the sheets into ribbons, and your thighs were clenching the sides of his head so tightly he was afraid you might crack his skull. He did the smart thing and gradually slowed his tempo, withdrawing from the safety of your blankets to finally look at you.
“Told you, you didn’t stand a chance,” he commented, wiping his mouth off on the back of his hand with the sassiest of smirks. Having finally somewhat recuperated, you now had the opportunity to ask how you got so lucky, not having to finish yourself off.
“What are you doing here?” you questioned, though not upset by any means with the turn of events that had transpired.
“Don’t sound too excited,” he muttered.   
“I didn’t mean it like that,” you said cautiously, touching the back of his hand - this seemed to halt his worrying in its tracks. “You’re home early is all – are those for me?” you inquired, nudging your head in the direction of the flowers and chocolate that sat waiting by the door.
“Could be,” he shrugged.
“What’s the occasion?” A smile began to overtake your face.
He seemed to be thinking about something. Then, with the most deadpan look he could muster, Shriv delivered what he thought was a perfectly timed joke: “Well, I was going to invite you out to dinner, but I already ate.”
You scoffed, trying to smack the Duros upside the head with the nearest pillow. He easily blocked, giving you an indignant look. You tackled him instead and he allowed it, his mood at once lifting as soon as you were straddled across his lap.
Shriv brushed a loose strand of hair away from your eyes, then he kissed you on the nose.
“Of course, I could always go for seconds.”
----
Reblogs appreciated!
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sinisterexaggerator · 1 year ago
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20 questions for fic writers
Tagged by @ashcroft-writes. Figure hey, why not. Feel free to do this, but no pressure @downrightembarassing @dukeoftheblackstar @my-sun-m00n-and-stars @pickleprickle
1. How many works do you have on AO3? 27 total. I should have MORE.
2. What's your total A03 word count? 551,012 words.
3. What fandoms do you write for? The only fandoms I have written for as far as fanfiction goes is Grand Theft Auto 5 and Star Wars, though back in the day I used to RP all kinds of stuff with my friends in the good ole' AOL chatrooms. Pretty sure I also used to post to RP forums.
4. What are your top five fics by kudos?
All the Wrong Places | Trevor Philips (GTA V)
Once you figure out one, the rest are easy.  (Series of Cad Bane oneshots)
Stars Above! | Cad Bane  (Cad Bane x OC)
Handcuff Marks and Stubble Burn (Trikey / GTA V)
The Interrogation  (Cad Bane x Reader )
5. Do you respond to comments? Why or why not? Yessss.
It may not be super longwinded or elaborate because I may not know what to say, but I always try to return a comment with a thank you at least, because they are very much appreciated.
6. What's the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Oh, I can't tell you because it isn't finished yet. >D In fact, I am a slut for angst. You can just go ahead and expect terrible things to happen if I'm writing it.
7. What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? Hm, probably something with Shriv Suurgav, actually. He's a total sweetheart, and if I am in the mood for fluff, he is usually my go to. Better than Candy was always one of my favorites. You get what you want and Shriv gets a blowjob. ;D
8. Do you get hate on fics? Nope. So weird to see it happen to others. Like, what?
9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Are you kiddddding? LOL That is basically all I write besides PWP - which is pretty much the same thing - angst/hurt, and sometimes a little comfort fic here and there. Though I am not sure what you mean by what "kind." I am all over the place.
10. Do you write crossovers? What's the craziest one you've written? No. Not into it, really. AU's are a little different, but I like to still be as canon compliant as possible without deviating too far from the original characterization. Maybe they're more like silly little "Crack" scenarios.
11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? I don't think so.
12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not to my knowledge.
13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Not exactly, though I brainstorm and talk about Cad Bane and Hondo with my internet BBF like every fucking day nonstop ( we're obsessed ).
14. What's your all-time favourite ship? BANAKA! I will scream it from the rooftops, preach it from the pulpit, rub it in your faces (not really), and force you to see the perfect relationship that is Cad Bane x Hondo Ohnaka if it is the last thing I do. I also really like Cad Bane x Jango Fett, and Shriv Suurgav x Cad Bane, and even Shriv Suurgav x Poe Dameron. >D
15. What's the WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? I want to finish all of them, but sometimes I wonder if I will get around to finishing "Handcuff Marks and Stubbleburn." I haven't been in a GTA V mood lately, but I really DO wanna finish All the wrong places. I can't just let it go at chapter 94. AHHHH.
16. What are your writing strengths? Characterization and descriptive language. Also not too shabby with dialogue and plot. I sort of just come up with shit as I go along by the seat of my pants. Sometimes, I will take a few notes down or make a rough outline, but that's about it.
17. What are your writing weaknesses? Perfectionist. Being a little verbose on occasion, but honestly IDAGAF and write what I want.
18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language for a fic?
I won't do it unless it is a "fake" language, such as Huttese or Durese. I am not above making up words and using context clues to figure out what a character is saying, such as Jabba the Hutt. They basically did that in the first three Star Wars movies. If we can deal with Chewie making his Wookiee sounds and using Han as a translator, I feel like it's fine to do it in a fic.
I think I tried to write ONE line in French to be funny, as Trevor Philips is French-Canadian, but I won't do so otherwise, and especially not in a serious context. Google translate isn't the most accurate, I hear.
19. First fandom you wrote for? Probably Hercules the Legendary Journey's or The Vampire Chronicles back in middle school.
20. Favourite fic you've ever written? Hmm.
I really liked writing Trigger Happy, which Cad Bane masturbates aboard his ship alone in the darkness of deep space, thinking about a warm, mammalian reader who is lightyears away...
I also really loved writing Better than Candy. I love writing for Shriv and his self-deprecating, jaded sense of humor. I wanted him to get a little "treat," and was quite happy with the results. I had the idea on the way home from work; I was sucking on a lollipop in traffic. >D
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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years ago
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Please, imagine if you will, cockwarming the Duro boys + Hondo
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Cad Bane, Shriv Suurgav, and Hondo Ohnaka get a cockwarming.
Explicit / 18+
Warnings: PiV, double-penetration in Bane's case, kissing, not really any biting, sorry, but some use of teeth, care-taking, comfort.
Notes: Shriv is a little more confident in himself in his ficlet, and it's really sexy (imho), though he still self-deprecates a bit. Bane denies help and is a bit of an egotistical bastard. Hondo is a sweetheart and indulges you with pure fluff.
*I know cockwarming has nothing to do with actually being cold, however with the Duros boys, it just worked out that way because I headcanon they are cold-blooded.
Word count total: 4.3+
Kinktober-ish? 🎃
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“It’s so cold in here,” you said, digging in your pack for something warm to wear. Cad Bane sneered at you as he fiddled with the temperature regulator.
You were a bounty hunter, joining him on a job. It wouldn’t be the first time you had worked with Bane, and you felt you could remotely trust him.
It was a two-person gig, out on Ord Mantell. A Devaronian pirate was to be brought in for a heavy sum. He was elusive, well-armed, and known to kill on sight. It had been your idea to ask him for his help. While you were no amateur, Cad Bane had unmatched skills. He was sure to be of use, no matter how high the price.
“Todo! Ah thought Ah told ye te fix dhis dang-blamed thing,” he grumbled out, the little service droid’s fingers tapping anxiously together as his other servos grinded to a halt. He was beside himself in nervousness, and a form of agitation that bordered human. It was a humorous thing to watch, as the two made quite a team despite their bickering.
“Yes, well, you see, the thermostat is broken, and I did mention that you should purchase a new one the next time we landed, but perhaps you did not hear me. Oh no...” Todo continued with what seemed like real concern, “do you need your ears checked, Mr. Bane? Can you hear me now?”
You found it hard to suppress a laugh, Bane’s eyes constricting as he turned to face his droid. “I’d be blessed not t’hear ya’! Mebbe I’ll jus’ use you fer de parts,” he shot back, one finger pointing, punctuating his sour words.
“I am afraid you won’t find the right components to make the repairs. I am a techno-service droid, not a subassembly of a rather cheaply designed life-support system. Honestly sir, you should think about upgrading the-”
“Pushin’ yer luck, Todo…” Bane seethed, Todo ambulating out and beyond the cockpit rather awkwardly. He knew better than to keep speaking out of turn. He boosted himself down the narrow corridor, off to find better things to do.
“He was only trying to help. Aren’t you the one who programmed him?” you asked, amused. The hunter finally turned his crimson glare on you.
“Left ‘im how Ah found ‘im. Few tweaks ‘ere an’ dhere. Didn’ program ‘im te be’a nuisance,” he corrected you.
You shrugged, your body shivering. The coldness of deep space did not take long to set within your bones. You motioned towards the holomap. “How long until we’re there?”
Bane sighed, pushing the brim of his hat up from off his forehead and an intriguing metal plate. He pinched the center of his brow, seeming to be irritated at everything, including you right now.
“Couple a hours. Betta’ get some shut eye, yer gonna needit.”
You scrutinized the man, then turned to do just that. It was better than simply standing there, aggravating the Duros further.
***
You woke up restless. You had tossed and turned through half of what you thought was night. You took a breath, seeing your own exhale within the biting air of the ship. It was frigid!  
You had taken to Bane’s spare bunk, but his was empty. You checked your chronometer. Several hours had come to pass; you thought it odd he did not follow his own advice. You rose and exited, remaining barefoot and forgoing anything but your crop top and black pants. You tip-toed through the ship, finding your way back toward the cockpit.
The moment the automated doors parted, Bane withdrew one LL-30 blaster. It was aimed directly at you, though the hunter was seated in his pilot’s chair. You raised your arms in defense, he relented and replaced the weapon. You noted his movements were slow and feeble – Cad Bane was not himself.
He swiveled round, bothering to ignore your presence now, though he grit his fangs, emitting a sharp reprimand. “Don’ sneak up on me!”
His own breath came out in frosty puffs – something was wrong, it was obvious. Though, to get him to admit it would be like pulling teeth. Still, you had to try. “Bane, are you all right?”
He tensed up at the question. He wasn’t used to being asked about his well-being. He was silent for a moment, his response more subdued than you would have guessed. “Fine,” he answered, still somewhat vexed.
“You don’t look fine,” you commented, walking up beside him. His scales were discolored and pale in hue – you remembered reading something about Duros. They were humanoid, though reptile. They could not regulate their own body temperature. Though Cad Bane wore an insulated suit, it seemed not to be enough. You cautiously skirted his captain’s chair and made him look at you face-to-face. “You’re cold, aren’t you.”
“S-so whut. We’ll be dhere soon. Nothin’ I cahn’t handle,” he snapped at you.
You timidly reached out a hand. You were deliberate on purpose. You wanted the hunter to see you were not a threat as you gently cupped his lower jaw below his breathing apparatus. “You’re freezing.”
“De thermostate's busted, what de ye exspec’?” he retorted grouchily, shifting his gaze away from you as he tried to shirk your grasp. He waved you off with a gloved hand of his own, though it had been rather short-lived and half-hearted.
You did not speak. He leered at you as you stared back. For a moment you saw beyond his tough exterior and into the soul beneath. He was just a man, callous around the edges. He was a killer, that much was true, but at this very moment he looked… pathetic.
You were overcome with something, an urge to help, but also an urge to warm him. Being human, your blood was tepid, and you knew you could provide him heat. “Let me help you, please.”
“Don’ need yer help!” he was quick to turn you down, winding his arms around himself.
You did not let this deter you. You crept forward and straddled yourself across his thighs. His eyes narrowed beneath his hat, the Duros regaining enough strength to encapsulate your face. His fingers bore into your dainty chin; you did not react to it. He eyed you beneath the wide brim of his bolero, studying, observing, smelling you and your sudden, unmistakable arousal.
“Ah know what it is yer afta’,” he smirked, one snaggletooth exposed by the curling of his lip. “Duros dick,” he surmised.
You kissed him gingerly, peppering him across his mouth, his cheek, his neck; those parts left exposed to you as your hand wandered downward and began to unbutton and unzip his pants. “Body heat,” you managed to get out, “you’re a Duros, I’m a Human. It makes sense. I don’t want you to freeze to death.”
“Ain’ dhat somethin’,” he ridiculed and mocked you. “Givin’ a shit about lil’ ol’ me.”
“You’re a good shot. I need you alive,” you pleaded, your mouth now hungry for the taste of him, though he sat stalk still as you withdrew his unique members -  there were… two of them?
You gasped out in surprise. He outright laughed, a snide guffaw of derision and disdain, a snort, for lack of a better word, though he lacked a nose upon his surly countenance. “Surprise,” he snarled at you.
Your hand was sticky with his slick. You took him by surprise this time. You shoved your pants down, then lubricated yourself with his slippery byproduct.
You gathered up both his dual girths in the palm of your bare hand. You mashed them together closely, creating a double-headed spear with which to impale yourself. You made eye contact with him as this shut him up quite well, sliding down one centimeter at a time as you began taking in all of him.
He stared in disbelief as you whimpered at the feel, your cunt stretching malleably to accommodate his dicks. His brow ridge twitched as he sucked in a raspy breath, his whole body rigid, stiff,  until he finally started to relax.
“Tight as dhat ass ye got,” he said offhandedly, one arm roving below as he clasped the meat of your posterior.
With each tiny movement of yourself atop his cocks, you found yourself groaning, whining, and making other involuntary sounds. You wrapped your arms around the Duros, pinning him against your chest the best you could. You buried your hot breath against his neck and across his shoulder.
You pussy clenched around him doubly penetrating you though it had been  your doing, elated gasps indicating that even staying so stationary was almost too much for you to handle. “It hurts, but it feels so good,” you confessed to him.
Bane growled, low, churlish, a deep-seated rumble rising from the depths of his Durosian vocals. He pushed himself further into your snug loins, your shapely body, and your curves. He reveled in the scent of you as he began to absorb your warmth.
“Stay like dhat an’ don’ move,” he commanded you, hips jutting forward so that his cocks distended you from the inside out. The pressure was intense, causing you to murmur your euphoria in a form of protest. Your belly felt delightfully swollen, and your mind was overflowing with endorphins.
“Oo-ooh.” A sound of pleasure escaped you in a broken pant, his ribs and crests pushing you towards the brink of an orgasm.  You had only done this to warm him up, though you had to admit you had been curious. Your plush lips found their way once more to his thin line of a mouth. “Kiss me,” you pleaded with him.
Bane teased you with a gloved finger, thrusting it between your teeth instead of his cool tongue, his coloration darkening as your body worked its mammalian magic on him. It was like you had a built-in heater, and now that you were here, Bane would take advantage of every bit of you.
He shifted, grabbed you by the waist and forced you down, his phalli ending at the base of your vaginal canal as he bottomed out.  
You touched the protrusion within your walls as he split you open, massaging the tautness of your abdomen as you moaned again. You hovered there, sitting flush across his lap as you licked your lips, so close to drooling on yourself. You thought you could stay like this forever, drunk off his Duros dicks, feeling full and satisfied, a blissful look overtaking your entire face, settling deep into your eyes.
“Looks like ye’ve bitten off more dhan ye cahn chew, lil’ lady,” Bane quipped salaciously, grinning like a man possessed by something cruel, like egotism. His teeth dredged themselves across your ear; he rattled out a hiss; his hand adjoined yours, finding the outline of himself within your innards - then he pressed against it, albeit softly, just to be a total bastard.
“Mmmmmn… Mhmm…” you cooed right back to him before you stole another kiss.
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You were stationed on Hoth. You were a part of the Rebellion’s ground forces. You were on the lookout for the enemy from dusk till dawn, and so was Shriv Suurgav, though he was out of his element - he was supposed to be a pilot.
The general had decided he would best serve a purpose in the here and now. Suurgav was Spec Ops, and they needed all the help that they could get. His X-wing lay in wait some distance from the base – he was expecting to be signaled, or else to make a hasty retreat.
It was time to switch. Two other soldiers came to relieve you from your post, but something was wrong. The sweet Duros was nearly frozen.
You both had protective snow gear, layers upon layers of insulation, and boots with tread, but even so, Shriv looked worse for wear. You had known him for far too long to see him suffer. In fact, you had hid your feelings from him.
Perhaps now was as good a time as any to confess, for you both could perish any day now at the butt end of a trooper’s blaster, or a Sith Lord’s lightsaber – Darth Vader.
The poor thing’s fangs were a chatter as you both headed down the narrow hall towards the meager barracks. This base had many rooms, and you were sure to be alone, if only for one or two moments of reprieve.
“Shriv, come with me,” you whispered to him, guiding him through the corridor. You passed Echo Base’s center of command, spying both Han and Princess Leia bickering.
“Thosse two are at it again,” Shriv spoke between his shivers, though he was surprised at the firm grip you had upon his hand. He could feel the warmth of your human skin radiating outwardly, despite the gloves that housed his particularly lengthy fingers.
“Where are you taking me?” he asked with anxious curiosity. You glanced backward at him to see a look of trepidation, his face haggard, long, and nearly frostbitten.
“To get warm, silly.” You smiled at him, and he somewhat loosened up. It wasn’t that he was actually apprehensive, but he tended to err on the side of caution, no matter what the situation called for.
“That’s awfully nice of you,” he said casually, making conversation. “Just how do you plan to do that when we’re stationed on a planet literally made of ice?”
“You’ll see,” you said cheekily, pausing by the entrance while you waited the few seconds for the automated door to open – you were surprised it hadn’t frozen solid, but luck was in your favor, if only just this once.
Once inside, you sat Shriv down. You removed your gloves and pressed your tepid hands against his frigid scales, warming his scarred cheeks with the aid of your own body heat.
The Duros sighed out a frosty breath, red eyes heavy-lidded and drooping in contentment. Though he thought this was rather wonderful, he was suddenly befuddled.
“Thiss is all well and good and all, but I don’t see why-” You cut the Duros off. You massed your lips gently against his mouth. You cradled his striking jawline in the slopes of your bare palms. He gasped out a flustered breath, nearly jumping backwards. You held him firmly – that’s when he melted into your soft touch.
You perched yourself astride his lap. His shoulders slumped in mild surrender before he wrapped his arms about you. He kissed you back – it was more than you could have hoped for. His own lips were thin, but his icy tongue was playful and explorative.
You took it a step further. You moved one hand steadily downward. You fumbled with the closure of his trousers, the Duros’ eyes bolting open as they had closed to enjoy the moment.
“Swe-sweetheart, I’m not sure what it is you’re after, but…” Shriv trailed off, searching your sultry gaze. You leaned forward towards him and murmured in his ear.
“Your cock,” you professed plainly, his scales bristling as your words sent a surge of something foreign from the top of his bulbous head to the bottoms of his toes.
“Wh-what?” he gaped at you as you physically pursued him. His eyes roved downward as he intently watched you, though he didn’t bother to try and put a stop to it. He was hard, even in this angry weather. No matter how cold Suurgav was, you were pleased to learn he was able to perform at a moment’s notice.
“Shhh,” you cooed, attempting to placate him, “let me warm it for you.”
He was at a loss. He blinked once, mouth partially hanging open. You took this as an invitation, withdrawing his alien anatomy to be grasped securely by your curling fist.
His dick was thick, spined, and ridged. He had a slick, but you had your own. You were already so wet, for Suurgav turned you on – he just did it for you, and it was something that you could not control.
You undid the clasp of your own pants, pushing the waistband down to rest just below your hips. You lifted yourself up, then gradually, inch by inch, started to take his cock.
Oh, and it felt so good. You had to curb your innate desire to rise and full on ride him. Your pussy involuntarily clenched as you whimpered at the size of him.
Shriv’s breath caught in his chest as his body crumpled forward. He gathered you right up like you were a precious object, or something delicate. He clutched you to himself as he moaned against your neck, burying himself below your ear. He thought he might just cum right now if you even so much as moved another muscle.
“It’s so soft, and warm, and-” he humbly commented, his speech muffled across your throat. You thought you sensed something; his fangs had grazed you and it had felt so perfect.
“Lie back, Shriv,” you urged him quietly.
“I don’t think I can move,” he informed you honestly, “Or I’m gonna-”
“Just take it slow,” you encouraged him, pushing back against him with the full weight of your buxom form.
He complied, unwinding his arms from around your frame. He sank back on his hands first, then lied down flat. You tipped your shapely body forward, the rest of you still clothed and cozy. You dug your knees into the bed, then wrapped your arms around his shoulders.
You planted little kisses, nuzzling your nose in against his pale blue flesh. You canted your entire self a little to the right, then did your best to bring Suurgav along for the short-lived ride.
“Mmph…” he interjected, losing himself and all his wits. This had been totally unexpected, but there was not much he could truly complain about.
“You’re insane, I think. That, or you’re just really desperate,” he contended. “I know something about desperation,” he added after the fact, arbitrarily.
“No,” you faintly spoke, though not bothering to stir. The only thing you did was pull him in closer to you. “I’ve always had a thing for you.”
“Is that sso? Lucky me,” he affirmed nonchalantly, though he hugged you tightly, burrowing his rostrum amongst your standard-issue hat and your loose strands. “If this is a dream, might I suggest never waking me up,” he stated dryly.
Your cheeks flushed red as you shifted incrementally, feeling the fullness of his girth against your inner walls. You serried your hips into him, just to indulge in the bulge inside your guts.
“You can stay as long as you like,” you reassured him, licking a hot stripe just below his chin to the cusp of his ear canal.
The Duros shuddered; he barely contained a rush of nervous laughter. He muttered throatily, emitting a deep-rooted rumble to seal the deal. “Home, sweet home...”  he snickered, rocking forward to sheath himself more deeply.
You exhaled a breathy gasp, for you almost came.
“Stay still, please,” you begged of him. You encased him in a snug embrace, binding him in the tangle of your limbs.
“Yes, ma’am,” he purred, nipping the lobe of your fleshy ear. “Can’t take a taste of your own medicine, I see.”
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You awoke to the unique feel of a Weequay kissing you, his breath hot and temperate across the bare flesh of your shoulder. You were lying naked beneath the blankets after a night of excessive lovemaking, having found your way into the Pirate King’s plush bed.
It was luxurious, and he spared no expense. It wasn’t that he had to, all these things were bought with stolen credits, or money earned on less than legal business ventures. You were not one to judge, as you were no saint yourself. You had been a call girl, an exotic dancer, until Hondo had whisked you away from your cantina on Nar Shadda.
The bar had been owned and operated by a Hutt. This one in particular had favored you, but so had Hondo. He pulled some strings, did some mild-mannered convincing, his assuasive, persuasive voice enough to acquit a criminal from their past misdeeds – it would only take Ohnaka to save them with his charming intonations.
You were hooked, like a fish who had been baited, and Hondo was addicted to you. You were not sure why the Force had deemed it so, for you were nothing more than a lowly entertainer.
There must have been something there for the way Hondo pressed your form against himself, his leathery skin cool to the touch and almost reptilian. You pretended not to rouse; you were enjoying this too much, Hondo’s gentle hands caressing and tactually belauding your waist and hips.
He had thrown caution to the winds, for you had tempted him. He was an expert orator, on top of a dashing scoundrel. You decided not to question it. You were not sure you wanted to know the answer. Hondo had a reputation for being partial to hosts of women.
Still, it was nice to think you might be special, even if he tired of you after another full rotation. You purred out a pleasing sound, finally stirring from your drowsy daze.
“Good morning, dearest,” he spoke pruriently in your ear, his voice practically indecent for all the goosepimples it administered.
“Did you sleep well?” he asked of you, one ribbed finger tracing the outline of your figure beneath the sheets. He tantalized you with a simple touch, causing you to grind the protuberance of your ass against his already hardening cock.
“I barely slept at all, but that’s your fault,” you teased, gathering the man up by his hands and coercing him to wrap his arms around you from behind.
“My apologies,” he offered coolly, yielding to your desires, Hondo cinching his grip around your waist just below your vuluptous breasts. “I did not think you minded at de time.”
You chirped out a girlish laugh, guiding those manicured hands upward. You fitted them atop your tits, coaxing him to squeeze. “I have a mind to go another round, but it’s pleasant just to lie here with you,” you admitted.
“Why not both?” he inquired, roiling out a lecherous murmur from his hairline mouth, fingers manipulating and caressing the doughy tissue of your ample chest.
“I like the sound of that,” you declared with sultry elegance, the pirate beginning the whole affair with more kisses being speckled across your throat and collarbone.
You hummed, Hondo continuing to gently compress one breast, the other hand shifting beneath the sheets as he got ready to align himself.
You adjusted accordingly, lifting one leg up and back to drape across his thigh. Your sex was wet in anticipation, Hondo gingerly inserting his ridged member into your bedewed crevasse.
You moaned in appreciation, sinking your pelvis backward to greet his lap. You felt the tip go in, slowly gliding forthright to fill you to the brim.
You made to ride him, your hips beginning to undulate across his robust cock. It was thick, keeled, and a perfect fit. However, Hondo groped you tightly, forcing you to still.
“No, my love. Let me simply bask en de divine,” he whispered in your ear.
You smiled, taking his suggestion at face value. You reached around yourself, behind your waist to grab his buttocks. You used the firmness of your grasp to propel him gently forward until you were adjoined completely, sighing deeply at the sensation of being coupled with him.
Hondo interjected a licentious sound, holding himself back from spilling his seed within you. Instead, he stroked your hair, impressed his lips to the divot between your shoulders, and clasped you more securely to himself as if he never wanted to let you go.
You understood by now – he wanted to rest inside you as you warmed him.
It was intimate, your void occupied full-up as well as your beating heart. You began to wonder about the Weequay’s reputation. He was so genteel, proper, and refined, yet his men both feared and adulated him. What were you to Hondo? How had you found your way to Florrum?
Your doubts were extinguished as he sucked the salt right off your skin, leaving behind a memory in his wake in the form of broken capillaries. You humbly whined as he left his mark, the pirate mindful of his frills, making sure not to truly harm you on accident.
You toyed with the wispy braid that had found its way to hang and dangle, fingers admiring the texture of his ornate hairstyle. You had asked about it once, it was to denote the passage of time for his kind, one for every year he remained away from his native home.
“Delectable,” he stated dissolutely, remarking on the taste of you.
You craned your head, enough to see his handsome face. In sleep he wore no helmet, no protective goggles – he was just a man, a man you were rapidly falling in love with, for you couldn’t help yourself. Perhaps it was naïve.
You smashed your lips against his in enthusiasm. Your tongues became entwined together. They danced and furled around each other as Hondo thoughtfully massaged your inner sanctum with a flex; a pulsing of his cock full flush against the anterior wall of your twitching cunt.
You spoke his name in lust; this only made him kiss you harder and with more fervor. You pulled away before you were carried off, turning around to settle back into the sheets and downy pillows. “I’ve never been quite this happy,” you confessed.
He refastened his arms around you and relaxed, words muffled against the pecks he placed upon your shoulders and your back. “That sounds like a challenge!  I am one tu think I can make you even happier,” he quipped.
“I’d like to see you try,” you provoked him with a smile.
He ground his hips, his thighs, and his sex right into you, causing you to chirrup as he breathed directly in your ear. You shivered involuntarily, trembling from top to bottom.
“Dat can be arranged," he stated plainly, words tinged with a hint of subtle, good-natured arrogance.
-----
Masterlist
Cad Bane Masterlist
Shriv Suurgav Masterlist
Hondo Ohnaka Masterlist
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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years ago
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Work has been rough this week, it's really beaten me down. Can I get some moments of tender loving care from the charming reptile men here (shriv, bane, and Ohnaka)? Please have them care for their roughed up or worn out lover?
I am sorry work was rough for you! It took me a minute to be able to get to this, so I hope that it still does some good. I wrote three short ficlets for you! One for Cad, Hondo, and Shriv. I hope they find you well. Bane's was inspired by this work of art created by @deepbluespace4.
Total word count: 1.7+
Warnings: None. PURE FLUFF, caretaking, and the boys being kind to you.
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---
You are a cantina girl; you serve drinks to scoundrels. You have a rough set of customers, and this week has been especially tiresome. You are dreading going back to work, though at least you have one measly day to call your own, but your lover is gone out on a job, and you are left to sulk alone.
You have no idea he came back early. He is watching you from afar. You take the same route back every night, only this time he observes you.
You kick a pebble, lost in your own thoughts. Your hands are shoved deep inside your pockets. If your mood was visible, it would have been a set of stark black lines, or a ball of malicious squiggles.
On top of everything, you barely make ends meet. Your boss is petty. Patrons had skimped on tips. You needed to do laundry, prepare a meal, clean your house, but you lack the required energy to do any of it.
You unlock the door to your paltry dwelling. Your stomach growls on empty, but all you can do is flop down on your bed. The tears come then. You sob into your pillows. A bittersweet release, though it somewhat helps.
Some few minutes later, your sense of smell is overpowered with the scent of food. Something warm, delicious, and meant for you. The hunter had been quiet. He had snuck in while your head was buried in your cushions. He had brought in a bag of street fare, takeout from a local market stall.
“Knock, knock, lil’ lady.”
You didn’t move. His throaty drawl had frozen you. You try to calm your tears as Cad Bane places the takeout on the table. His head cants to the side and so does that ungainly hat; he is quizzical, curious of your foul mood.
“It’s jus’ me,” he assures you. He hadn’t meant to frighten you, though his steps are often silent - it’s by second nature, and you had gotten used to it.
Your neck cranes up to look Bane in the eye. He frowns at you, or at least you thought he did, as his expression was nearly always wry.
“Brought ye somethin’,” he states quietly.
Bane strides forward, his grip upon his gun belt, the Duros toying with a toothpick that lives between his teeth with a motile tongue. He motions towards you, beckoning you to stand with the curling of a hand, a folding of four blue fingers and one thumb.
Your heart felt somewhat lighter at this nonverbal request; you went to him at his behest. Your arms encircle him about his tapered waist. He hesitates for just one moment before he envelops you in a cool, welcomed embrace.
It was said Cad Bane was cold-blooded in more ways than one, but he has a soft spot – one that you seem to fill, for you make him feel not so by himself.
“Ah don’t 'spose ye missed me?” he asks of you, though he thought he knew the answer. You respond with more tears and with a tighter grip upon his person; you had missed him terribly.
You give him a squeeze as he rests his hands along your back. He closes those crimson eyes of his and rumbles his contentment.
“Ah'll take dhat as a yes.”
He must have been in a kind of mood to be this nice to you, but you are thankful for him and will never take him for granted. The dark rain cloud has lifted, your temperament has shifted, and it is all thanks to him – this gangly man who wears a hat and hugs better than the rest.
---
You are a Spicerunner for the Ohnaka Gang – it is voluntarily, though you are weary. You sigh deeply as you situate your transport ship upon the steady ground. Home sweet home, or rather Hondo’s. You are just a visitor, though he often keeps you by his side.
You are more than just a flavor, a one and done. You are also a great pilot, though the Weequay is somewhat partial to you. When in your company he forsakes all others, and he gives you a home here with him on Florrum.
You were gone longer than you meant to be. Imperial TIEs had come upon your whereabouts. You had to hide in secrecy on some small moon. The cramped quarters, the low rations, had all nearly gotten to you.
You exit the hatch and stumble down the ramp. You are so tired from being vigilant, you nearly miss your step. Likewise, you hadn’t even noticed, though the pirate had come to greet you. He catches you in his outstretched arms before you hit the rocky earth.
“Water. Now,” he commands someone just out of your sight. He turns your body in his arms, adjusting you so you can look at him. His gray eyes behind his goggles appear concerned. He walks you gently to a nearby hovercar.
“You poor dear,” he says with a gentle lilt, “I was afraid someting had happened tu you.”
He opens the door and carefully sets you down. The ride is short up to his fortress, but you are happy to be away from the burning heat of the noonday sun.
You are handed off a cup; you chug its contents. Hondo picks you up like a bride being carried across a threshold as soon as you are done. He takes you up some stairs; you are hardly a bother for him. He had seen you fly in and had prepared a bath.
His undressing of you is sensual, though he is respectful. This moment is about you, and not what you could do together. He peels off your boots, your many layers, then guides you by his hand into the warm and soothing bath.
You relax, a sigh exhaled from your parted lips. You bat your lashes at him, slowly, and he gives you his signature, sly smile.
Water is rare on this dry desert planet. He cares enough about you to make sure you are clean and rested. He takes one foot up without him asking, his hands tough yet mild as he massages it with rapt attention and the utmost diligence.
“Du you feel better?” he asks of you in his most dulcet tone of voice. You can only nod your head as you dip down lower into the suds.
“Much,” you croon for him.
 Hondo was a catch, and a wily one at that, but he had his moments, and you were very thankful for him.
“So glad tu hear et, love,” he says as his lips brush against your ankle. You thought you must have died and met with Maker, for if not, he would surely one day be your undoing.
---
You cannot sleep; you are plagued by anxiousness. You have deprived yourself of rest and nutriment. You rove the shelves in the Restoration’s cargo hold, taking note of inventory, the supplies needed to keep the rebellion going.
A Star Destroyer had been spotted half a parsec out just days ago. Everyone was on high alert. That meant Danger Squadron was more often on patrol, and you were more than worried for it.
Shriv was the commander of that squad. He wasn’t the best at leadership. It wasn’t that you thought lowly of him, but he had told you that himself.
You tried to keep your mind preoccupied, squaring away reports and communicating shortages, but whenever you tried to lay down your head, your intrusive thoughts kept you awake in bed.
Finally, they gave Shriv a brief reprieve. It was Black Squadron’s turn to guard the fleet. He came upon your smiling face at a viewport on the lower levels, having searched the ship for you. You are weak, pale, tired, and hungry - his extended absence from you had made you ill.
“Fullua?” the Duros asks as he approaches you cautiously. “What’s wrong? You don’t look so-”
You outstretch your right arm, your pallid fingers. You stroke the lines etched into his cheek before you almost faint from pure exhaustion, though he catches you just in time.
“I couldn’t eat. I couldn’t sleep. I missed …” you manage to get out. Shriv curls a lip, his eyes brimming with worry and concern. He guides you to a lift, he holds you in his arms the whole way to your quarters. He coerces you to sit down at a table.
“I’ll be right back, sweetheart.” He strokes your face before he departs from you as you emit a whine. He had just returned, and he was already deserting you, or so it felt.
You lay your head down on the table. You do everything you can do to keep from crying. Ten minutes rolls by before the Duros comes back to you, though he is loaded down with food.
Shriv had raided the Restoration’s mess hall. He brought you the leftovers of that evening’s meal, and a little for himself. “Eat,” he lightly commands you, a frown seated upon his face.
You smile at him. You partake of a piece of bread, though your other hand only wants to hold his, and so you did.
You eat all you can stomach. He watches you in total silence, though he makes sure you get your fill before he stands and helps you to stand as well.
Shriv guides you to the mattress within your dorm. He lovingly helps you take your boots off. He blushingly assists you get undressed, though he averts his eyes like a gentleman. He is being silly, you have already been intimate together, but Shriv has always been respectful towards you, and never once made you feel uncomfortable.
Once you are prepared for bed, Shriv lies down and wraps you in his big, strong arms. He cradles you as carefully as he might a newborn youngling. He kisses you upon your forehead. He hums a little tune; a melody that accompanies a song his life-giver had sung to him on Duro.
Within minutes, you are asleep. Shriv will drift off too, eventually. Your mind is filled with pleasant dreams, as Suurgav had shown you care and kindness. It was only one of the many reasons you loved him so.
---
Masterlist
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one-desperate-duros · 2 years ago
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*"It is what it is. I’m gonna end up in a ditch one of these days. I just hope I don’ get left there to rot."
Please, stop. Please. *Shriv trembles outwardly, the imagery flooding his mind of Bane lying somewhere face down in a gutter, like so many other people; soldiers that have come and gone. Shriv has never left anyone behind if he can help it, and if he has anything to say about it, that would never happen to Bane, either.*
That would never happen, I wouldn't let it happen.
*"Suurgav, ye got a future, at least once the Empire’s gone. And then ye’ll settle down. Have a brood of grubs chewin’ on yer ankles.
Shriv frowns; something he is so used to doing. For one thing, he can only pray to Maker that it could actually be possibly to eradicate the Empire. He had been fighting for so long, losing for so long ... It almost seemed insurmountable. And while the thought of a family of his own is a nice sentiment, he doesn't want to think about it -- not if that meant Bane would vanish off into the sunset, or worse.
"Ye don’ want an old man draggin’ ye down. Especially one that’s got nothin’ ahead of him but a dead end."
Shriv pushes away from Bane. He glares at him. He shakes his head in a partial defeat, or maybe disgust, though not about to give up.*
But why?! Why does it have to be that way!? You're worth so much more than you think you are. You've been alone for so long, you've been walking around for so long, internalizing, bottling things up, killing people sure, but only taking orders from yourself, only caring about you.
It's like - like you're in an echo chamber. A closed system, insulated from any arguments against the contrary.
You might be an old man, but you're not dragging me down, you lift me up. I feel --
*Shriv takes a breath, then sighs. * But it doesn't matter what I feel, does it? You'll just go on believing what you want.
*He turns to stare at the gravestones, his lower lip down turning even more deeply. He turns back to Cad sorrowfully, wraps his arms back around him, though he's quick to remove a set of binders from the pouch at his waist when he least expects it.
He handcuffs Bane's wrist, and then his own to Bane's. He's sure he has the key, but it doesn't matter. He rubs his rostrum softly into his shoulder to prove his point, and to show him he's not mad, but that his words aren't meant to be taken lightly.*
I told you. You're not getting rid of me.
... Unless you w-want to. Then by all means, feel free to take me back to my X-wing and we'll call it a day.
*Bane nearly smiles at @one-desperate-duros saying he’ll live forever. He’s certainly lasted longer than he thought he would*
If it makes ye feel any better, I didn’ stay on New Tayana after that. I woulda been dead too if I hadn’ left.
It is what it is. I’m gonna end up in a ditch one of these days. I just hope I don’ get left there to rot.
*Bane realizes that’s not the right thing to say, not after Suurgav is so visibly upset from him talking about dying. Suurgav squeezes him tighter, and Bane reciprocates, putting his arms around the other Duros’ shoulders to avoid his ribs*
Suurgav, ye got a future, at least once the Empire’s gone. And then ye’ll settle down. Have a brood of grubs chewin’ on yer ankles.
*He smiles a little at the imagery, even if it’s tinged with sadness. Bane knows Suurgav might not live to see that day, and Bane might not either. He hates thinking of Suurgav’s death much more than his own. If one day Suurgav decides to move on, because realistically he would, as long as he’s happy and alive, Bane would have to be content with that*
Ye don’ want an old man draggin’ ye down. Especially one that’s got nothin’ ahead of him but a dead end.
*Even as he says these things, he doesn’t let go of Suurgav, as if he doesn’t want to believe them himself*
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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years ago
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So we know how the Duros duo take care of their SO's while sick, how they act when sick....how would the Duros dad's react the first time their kid got sick, and not like a lil sniffle but actually sick?
Instead of headcanons this time, I wound up writing ficlets!
After talking about how sadistic I write my Bane, I went out on a limb and wrote him super soft one of the only times I imagine he would be: around his kid!
Word Count: 838 total
Warnings: None. Sick baby, cuddles, fluff, family feels.
---
He hadn’t wanted the kid, hadn’t asked for the kid, yet here the kid was. It had taken him weeks, months, just to get used to the idea. You had announced that you were pregnant, and he had nearly choked. But now things were different. He was different, and very worse for wear.
But it wasn’t due to anything you had done, or even your little tyke. The runt was sick. Really sick, and Cad Bane was beside himself.
You caught him glaring, for lack of a better word. Stock-still as a statue, he eyed the sleeping grub.
The only thing that placated the agitated Duros was the toothpick he rolled along, whorled about by the pink point of his often vulgar tongue.
Your hand came to rest upon his shoulder; he didn’t stop you. In fact, he squeezed it gently. It was out of place, though actions often spoke louder than words in his defining case.
You were not neglectful, you attended to your child, but it did not matter how often you came or went, for Cad was always at his side.
At one point the room was dark, your human sight was ill-adjusted. You had thought he left without a word, but his ruby eyes peeked open. They blossomed in the night, like a Candlewick flower in its native habitat. Bane’s eyelids blinked as he inspected you, the duties you attended to, from beneath the wide brim of his bolero hat.
You tried to coax him to your bed at this late hour, but Cad only waved you off. He wouldn’t leave his tiny heir, the male halfling that slumbered quietly.
You caught him the next morning, snugly sequestered in the toddler’s makeshift nest – he had chosen to forego the comfort or the company of your loving touch to spend the evening with the fruit of your fertile loins.
The youngling was feeling better; he was crooning in his daddy’s ear. He was alerted by your footsteps, a hand moving to withdraw the blaster that was not there.
It was a rule. He did not wear them in the house, though he kept them close in case anyone dare encroach, infringe, or otherwise creep on his little family.
“Did you stay awake all night?” you asked the man.
He corrected the position of his signature incidental atop his head, rubbed at an itchy spot beneath his scarred and weathered rostrum. Then, he rearranged himself to sit. The little boy crawled into his lap, and Cad Bane did something that was rare – he smiled.
“Maybe,” was all he said.
---
“No, I tried that.”
“Yeah, that too.”
“You’re not helping by yelling at me!”
“No, I don’t want you to come here!”
“Because you’re all the way on Duro!”
“It’s fine, everything’s fine! I’ll figure it out! Gotta go!”
“Shriv, I’m right here. Can I do anything?” you asked the irate Duros.
“No!” he snapped at you, though perhaps not aiming to.
Suurgav had called his mother, not trusting you, himself, or anyone with the well-being of his baby girl. She ran a fever, her eyes were droopy, and she had lost her healthy glow.
The fledgling was strapped to her daddy’s waist, one arm encircling her as he bounced her gently while he paced.
“Waak’cha kaaq,” he whispered in her ear, Durese words that meant “poor thing.” Though you knew that all his worrying wouldn’t help her in the end.
You carefully took her from him; he followed you around the house, shadowing your steps. She was shivering, so you ensconced her in warm blankets and held her to yourself.
Shriv wrapped the both of you up into a tight embrace. He breathed into your hair as the Duros felt like shedding tears.
“Sweet man,” you called him as your lips brushed against his jaw. He held you tighter, rubbing his rostrum into your downy locks.
“I’m sorry, I’ve just never had to deal with this before. I feel so powerless, useless. I just want her to get better.”
The baby peered up at Shriv; she was old enough to understand. She rumbled out a purr and chirped, a sound that meant she loved him.
Shriv sighed, squeezing her pinky finger. He was so in love with her, just as much as she was with him. “Let’s put her to bed,” you offered.
He slowly nodded. He held her hand the whole way there. Shriv was tired just like the baby, he had been awake all night, fretting and floundering on how to help.
You left them for just two ticks. You ran off to grab more blankets and some water - to stay hydrated was important, especially when ill.
Shriv had curled into a little ball around his daughter. He was snoring softly. The toddler yawned, snug as a bug. She placed her tiny open palms on Suurgav's cheeks.
You thought your heart was going to melt inside your chest, seep right out the spaces between your ribs - those two would be the death of you, even if they hadn't meant to.
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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years ago
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I’m back.
Realized belatedly I meant the headcanons about Shriv wanting to go exclusive with reader when I was talking about his self-deprication. Not the “Persistent” ficlet.
Sorry for the confusion 🤦🏻‍♀️ *insert embarrassed wingofshadow here*
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Oh, OK! Thanks for clarifying @wingofshadow! At first I was confused because I thought he did not degrade himself in that ficlet, he was only afraid of hurting reader with his teethies! All right, here's a little short something. @kimageddon had to make it horny with her "you forgot" idea and it wouldn't leave my head, so sorry about that! >D
Title: Something in my eye
Word Count: 551
Warnings: Just a bit of a crotch squeeze, otherwise it's all fluff and feelings and dealing with ill feelings about oneself.
---
"I don't know what you see in me," Shriv confessed, sighing. "I'm just a jaded Duros with a big mouth and an even bigger head."
"Stop it," you scolded him. "That's one of the dumbest things you have said to date. Besides, you forgot the biggest thing about you."
Shriv's brow ridge knitted as he contemplated what you were getting at. "My quote, attitude problem, unquote?"
Your hand lightly came to sit upon his knee, sliding, teasing, as your palm moved to rest across his groin, though he was not erect. Shriv gasped, nearly choking on the inhale. His own hand moved to join yours, his fingers toying with the tips; the softness of your flesh as he removed you carefully, yet he held you to himself, arm pinned against his chest.
"O-oh, smooth. Normally, I'd- It's just ... I was being serious," he said solemnly, continuing to caress the apex of your index and middle digit with the scaled pads of his own. "I don't want to lose you and I'm afraid you'll get sick of me one day," he admitted worriedly.
"Shriv," you said, your voice firm and commanding. It caught his attention well enough, for he turned his head to look timidly in your direction, thin pupils fixated on you - your face reflected back at you in his shining eyes of ruby. "Please, don't talk that way. I hate it when you do that. I can't stand the idea you think so lowly of yourself."
"I ... I'm sorry," the Duros apologized too quietly, gaze shifting towards the floor.
"And stop apologizing all the time!" you instructed forcefully, though you allowed yourself to calm back down to a warmer speaking volume. "Shriv, I love everything about you. If I didn't I wouldn't be sitting here with you."
"Oh," Shriv responded flatly. "I-I see."
"Do you? I'm not so sure."
You frowned, tugging your arm away so that both could wrap snuggly around his hefty build. You squeezed as tightly as you could, though you lacked real strength. Still, you were able to get your point across.
"You're funny, witty, charming, kind, brave ... and that's just hitting the surface level," you whispered into his ear canal.
"I - I am?" he asked with trepidation coloring his tone.
"Of course you are. You risk your life everyday, you make people laugh everyday. The galaxy would be a darker place without you in it."
Suurgav remained quiet, though he was overcome. He held himself steady in your arms.
"To not hear your voice, to not see your smile, to be without you in my life ... I rather risk going up against Darth Vader himself than to have never met you."
You stifled your mild shock, for you felt something wet against you neck. You hadn't even known that Duros could cry, though it made sense. You gently tautened your shared embrace, planting a sweet kiss just below his well-honed jawline. "I care about you, Shriv, and so does everybody else - even if they don't always say it out loud. Be more confident in yourself and in your abilities. You've got nothing to worry your big head about."
Shriv nodded, using it as an excuse to wipe his tears off on your blouse. He chuckled wryly, trying to make light of all of this. "I'm not crying or anything, I've just got... something in my eye."
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sinisterexaggerator · 3 years ago
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Ohnaka, Shriv, and Bane have find out their S/O was (until recently) a full time chiropractor/massage therapist, how do they find this out? Well she helps to massage all that tension out and probably help with a bad back in some cases (probably both) a lil something on this please? .3.
Ooh, the boys are gonna get spoiled! We all know Shriv deserves it most of all!
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Warnings: None. Just a couple of Duros and one Weequay getting a nice massage from their S/O.
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“Dis effort … es no longer … profitable!”  had been Hondo Ohnaka’s words. He had failed at his endeavor, but not before nearly dying at the hands of a clever Jedi Knight.
Oooh, but Hondo was more so. He had escaped death, lived to tell his tale, and tell he did. You had heard all about it, though he was loath to admit his neck, his back, and his arms were sore.
He had battled one named Skywalker, hand-to-hand with a melee weapon; an electrostaff against a lightsaber. It had seemed like a good idea, the pirate had tanks to back him up, yet all had proven futile in the end. The only thing that was left to him were his complaints and body aches.
He tutted around his Corona-class armed frigate, mumbling obscenities. You were perhaps his flavor of the week; the month; the year if you could keep up with him. Though, you had a few tricks of your own up your fancy sleeves, a way to please the Weequay. You beckoned Hondo to his stately bedchamber.
“Have a seat. Let me pamper you, my liege.”
You bowed in a show of theatrical humility. Hondo loved this game – for you to praise him and act as an abiding slave.
“Permission granted,” Ohnaka announced, stretching himself out leisurely. You took this opportunity to woo him with your valuable expertise.
Besides, in a way, he would profit from it…
“One thing you might not know about me: I was a massage therapist before you whisked me away on this grand adventure.” You rounded him, trailing your fingers along his coat; his shoulders. You began to help him take it off.
“Really? How fortunate for me.”  Hondo was not shy when it came to stating the obvious, or those things that were in his favor; to be humble was a thing reserved.
You had to work harder on him unlike other clients; his skin was tough, leathery, though still somewhat pliant. He moaned out a sound denoting he was happy, making this laborious undertaking all worthwhile.
“You are good at dis, my dear. Remind me tu... repay you.” He struck a wicked smile.
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Shriv Suurgav had been nearly killed piloting a ship he wasn’t too familiar with – a TIE Fighter of all things. He had boarded a Star Destroyer with Iden and his niece - she was self-proclaimed. He had left for weeks afterward, on a mission from the general. Shriv somehow found the time to visit you on one of his recent meetups with the fleet.
Initially, they hadn’t let him land. He was turned away from you, your frigate and its team of medics. He had comm-called you once it was safe to do so, reassured you, letting you know he was still alive.
You could tell something was wrong - he was tired - beside himself in sorrow, yet he tried to play it off. Iden had been close to him, and now he was burdened with her loss.
You wanted to coddle him; show him affection; give the depressed Duros a reason to laugh again. He was overworked by Leia, and while you respected her, Shriv rarely received any commendations for a job well done.
He arrived to you a mess, yet he tried to muster a smile of sorts. You reached your hand out for him. He took it up and rubbed his cheek into the center of your palm.
Shriv looked on the verge of tears, his expression pained. He only managed to say three words, though they nearly caused your heart to burst.
“I missed you.”
He made the motions to engage you in a hug; that sort of thing was always awkward for him, yet he seemed to want one. His body would deny him, forcing him to scrunch an eye. He rasped out a haggard breath.
“S-sorry… I-I’m just a little sore…”
His shoulders were stiff; his arms, his neck; his muscles ached. The crash had done a number on him, and he was still recovering.
“Come here, Shriv. You know, I used to be a massage therapist before I joined the Rebellion.”
Shriv chuckled rather meekly; he was not himself. “I can see why you’d want to keep that a ssecret in a place like this. You’d have a line outside your door.”
You guided him along, sat him down, and lowered onto your knees behind him. Your fingers bore into his cobalt flesh beneath his uniform, your hands applying just the right amount of pressure to relieve all his undue stress.
The Duros gasped at first, not knowing what he was feeling. It hurt, but then it felt so good. His brow ridge knit; he melted into it. His fangs bit down on his slender bottom lip.
He had no quips, no snarky comments. He was feeling complimentary for once, simply grateful to have you by his side.  
“You spoil me, sweetheart. Don’t know what I did to deserve a gal like you.”
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Cad Bane had gotten his choobies handed to him by Fennec Shand. He was beat to snot and had lost out on all his credits. He reached you worse for wear, in pain, and his muscles ached – his entire self. You felt sorry for him and decided to utilize your skills.
“Lie down, Cad,” you lightly commanded him.
He was too tired, too worn to argue with you. He sat down, slumping over with a wince upon your bed. Bane removed his hat and hung his head, mumbling grouchily, “maybe Ah'm gettin' too old fer dhis.”
“Nonsense.” you assured him, conducting him into the correct position. He was timid – Cad wasn’t used to dropping his wary guard or his excessive vigilance.
That all vanished into the ether, out and beyond the stars above, whilst your hands worked their magic on him. He made sounds you had never heard; groans, grunts, and ones perhaps of relief or pleasure. You were happy you could do something nice for him.
“Where’d ye learn te do all dhis? Ssome kinda ssorcery,” he claimed; his voice a husky gravel, though more subdued than was normal for him.
“I was a massage therapist back on Coruscant. My patrons were mainly Clones. They tipped well and were always sore – war and all," you responded reservedly.
“Keepin’ ssecrets from me, s’what it is.”
Did your ears deceive you? You could have sworn the Duros purred.
You’d be laserbrained to mention it, though you smiled a little to yourself. It felt good to be appreciated, knowing all too well that Bane’s involuntary praise was as close to a thank you as you would get.
---
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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years ago
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Who says Duro don´t kiss?
Here's the thing, I don't say that, but some fic writers might think that it's hard for Duros to kiss in the human sense by way of their nearly lipless mouths. Personally, as a cultural thing, I think Duros might have a different way of kissing each other, so to speak. I like to say they rub their rostrums together, and possibly touch foreheads.
On the OTHER hand, I also think they do like to try and kiss each other. I imagine some gentle biting, tongues dancing together, growling, licking, you know. I am sure it is fun for them just as much as for humans.
In regards to Cad Bane I imagine that Duros more or less likes to slink his tongue down your throat as far as it will go, especially if you're needy for it and beg him. He might not kiss you "properly" but by the Gods it is something to remember, and if he does, it's rough and passionate because he doesn't fuck around when he wants something - plus, you have to be special.
Shriv likes to be kissed and otherwise kiss you when you so allow it and probably moans about it and tightly gropes your hot little body in unexpected and pleasing ways. He treats you with care, but he can also be riled up or be a little feisty, which may be a rare occasion depending, but this man is definitely a switch if you catch him on a good day.
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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years ago
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How about the Duros bois reacting to their respective ladies accidentally calling them ‘daddy’ during sex? 😏
@kittycat-kai - Do not hate me! ;D I went with my instincts on Cad, then I couldn't get what @weirdlet said out of my head, so Suurgav just can't help himself.
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"Harder, daddy!"
Warnings: SMUT BELOW THE CUT - NSFW 18+. Dirty talk, penis in vagina sex, two dongs in Cad's case, but no DP this time. Ass grabbing, humor.
Word count: 641
***
Cad Bane had holstered one Durosian dick inside your twitching cunt. He rammed you without quarter, but you couldn’t get enough. The second of his cocks rested between your ass cheeks. He had smooshed them both together in a makeshift sheath.
His rawboned fingers dug into your rotund rump as he grit his fangs, one snaggletooth exposed in a display of near-to aggressive rapture. He loved the way your flesh jiggled as it bounced when he fucked you from behind. So soft and warm, round and fun to squeeze  - he was near to a climax when you uttered two simple words: “Harder, daddy.”
Cad slowed his tempo; his brow ridge knitted inward as his forehead crinkled in mild disgust. He responded to you, his voice husky and lacquered with disdain. “No.”
“What?” you asked, somewhat frowning. You had thought that he might like that. You had bothered to take the risk, not assuming that he would mind.
“Ah said no.” He picked up his pace again, perhaps more so out of anger or agitation than because he truly wanted to. He groped you tighter as you bear down against the table – you had been bent over for quite some time.
You decided you liked this newfound combativeness; it only made him plow you without remorse. You tried again just to be a brat – not expecting what came next.
“That’s it, just like that, mm, daddy…”
Bane pulled right out of you. He rose and released his lock. He grabbed his hat from where it rested – he pushed it down atop his head and zipped his pants up.
“B-Bane?” you stuttered out as you rose to your full height. He didn’t say a word. He walked right out your door - it slammed closed and he was gone.
You pouted. You wondered if your short romance was over, for you knew the bounty hunter was one to hold a grudge – you should have listened to him.
***
You had been feeling frisky; you had managed to coax a Duros to your quarters. Now Shriv Suurgav was nestled into your warm mammalian vagina as he held you up in his big, strong arms against the wall.
You hadn’t made it to the bed; it was just as well. You were so enthralled with him you would take it anywhere.
His long, thin fingers grasped your ass as he used the muscles in his biceps to keep you held aloft. He was crooning in your ear, his soft breath sending shivers down your spine.
“Mm, harder daddy.” you cooed for him.
His rhythm slowed; he had paused, though he exuded a small sound that was reminiscent of a purr or a kind of rumble.
Shriv was new to all of this, but he would try his best. You nearly laughed at what he said.
“Oh, yeah?” he whispered to you, grinning from one side of his long face to the other. He spoke salaciously, his throaty voice taking on notes of an almost casual seduction.
“Why don’t you clean your room, you dirty girl…”
You choked; you couldn’t help it. He continued, not letting your reaction stop him.
“You’re terrible, filthy, I oughtta sspank you for being so naughty …”
“OK, no, stop.” You sputtered with a laugh. Instead of letting it bruise his ego, he went farther with it.
“Gonna make you finish all that homework … and you’re gonna do the dishes too while you’re at it.” He jerked his hips; you let out an abject mewl.
“And don’t forget dinner’s at 7 sharp.” he snidely reminded you. “-you’re the main course so don’t be late, sweetheart.”
Your arousal had almost left you, but somehow Suurgav had made that hot. You kissed him full flush on the mouth to finally shut him up.
---
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sinisterexaggerator · 2 years ago
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Thot: sweet and fluffy morning sex with sweet Shriv and some breakfast in bed🥺🥺🥺.
Ooh, I love this. I was instantly inspired. Don't ask me what happened. This went to a weiiiiird place, but... I really like it. xD Some sweet, sweet angst along with a soft and sexy Duros with some *cough* breakfast in bed.
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Shriv Suurgav x Fem! Reader
Word count: 1.6k+
Warnings: NSFW : 18 + // Smut, angst, bad dreams, comfort, PiV sex, cunnilingus, fingering, kissing, cuddling, and fear of death.
---
Breakfast in Bed
Explosions - the rapid firing of blasters - the earth rocked beneath you as you swayed from side to side trying to keep your balance. You were blinded by a thermal, the sweltering fluorescence expanding before your eyes as it consumed everything beyond your sight’s horizon.
You ran for cover; you saw white armor. Men shouted, and women too, their lamentations ringing out among the din of battle charges and orders barked. Your heart raced. You did not know if you would make it.
You saw Suurgav. He waved for you to walk forward towards him, urging you to take shelter under the canopy of a downed tree trunk. You paused; he hadn’t noticed the grenade. You screeched his name, “Shriv!!!” before the device erupted.
You awoke; you meant to scream, but the sheets were stirring. Your anxiety contorted into pleasure as your labored breaths transformed into immodest moans; you reached out above your head to grip the bedframe, steadying yourself for there was a Duros between your legs.
“What- what are you doing?” you breathed out heavily, suddenly enraptured. It was a stupid question; it was obvious. Shriv paused only momentarily, his husky voice reverberating betwixt your thighs.
“Haaving breakfasst in bed,” he stated perversely, a mischievous lilt coloring his tone. He continued with his mission, and by the Core he was so good at it. You had trained him well when just months ago the man was timid. His fear had all but left him as he had mapped out and memorized the best way to make you writhe.
Now he wouldn’t stop; he did this often. You had lost count of your many orgasms.
It was a reward in and of itself to see you squirm beneath him; to taste your distinct branding and your unique flavor. He was addicted, and Gods – you were wholly blessed for it.
Your hips bucked upward to meet his hungry mouth – you weren’t afraid of his fangs by now - he was industrious with the way he feasted on you, and being careful was always his prerogative.
He took the hint - you wanted more of it. He gently pressed against either side of your inner thighs. He splayed your legs apart, exposing you in your most vulnerable state. He had never bothered to lift the blankets.
He delved into your mound with unmatched enthusiasm out of anyone you had ever known with this much familiarity; you coaxed the sheet back to expose the lurid act. You couldn’t help yourself; you loved to watch.
“Mmmnnn,” he moaned into your cunt as he dined on you like you were a well-earned meal - a kill freshly captured - his appetite insatiable. Your voice left you in a ragged breaths; you were cracking and Suurgav would be the one to split you open.
Shriv kept his lengthy digits anchored across your legs even as you contrived a struggle. He knew you loved it when he wouldn’t let you go. You had taught him to be forceful. He was lying flat down on his belly, his legs extended by the knees to adjoin together in the air as his feet kicked leisurely.
His motile tongue took turns swirling and furling around your clit before licking a stripe down your labia minora and slinking his way into your dripping slit.
That skillful muscle probed you; he fed off you; he clamped down harder on your thighs as he drew you forward and lapped at your secretions like an animal quenching its inappeasable thirst for water. He pushed his tongue further into your quivering sex before he darted right back out again, trailing a path back to your throbbing bud.
You gasped as he shifted and filled you with one finger. It was slow, delicate, and it penetrated you with ease. You were already so drenched.
“That’ss a good girl…” he teased, his words praising your heightened arousal for him, exuded in a dry flirtatious baritone as he mildly laughed, though it wasn’t meant to be a mockery.
He matched his own speed as he caressed your inner walls, the Duros rumbling at the simple way your body threshed against his calm and patient strokes.
You came within minutes, seconds, Suurgav smooshing his rostrum directly against your tuft of wiry curls - your fleshy prominence - as he buried his tongue again, sampling of the nectar he had drawn from you.
Your release caused something surprising, something you had not experienced before. The vocalized expressions of your ecstasy morphed into tears of fear and overwhelming anxiety.
The Duros removed himself; he looked aghast. He reached out for you, though he was overcome with a sudden shyness and a sense of guilt.
He stammered; he was terrified that he had injured you. “F-F-Fullua?! What’s wrong?!”
He looked near to tears himself. He was shaking like a leaf as he searched you over. You raised your arms for him and begged him silently.
He crawled forward and you kissed him with more passion than you had meant to. Shriv gasped but accepted this dumbfounding gesture. Your hands explored his face; his head; his shoulders, even as he was about to have a heart attack.
“Shriv, I dreamt you died. It was so real!” You rolled with him. He was beneath you even as you sealed his lips with yours again. He slept naked, you both did. There was nothing to bar you from his full erection.
Without warning you placed him within yourself; you softly wept as you began to ride him. He stared up at you, chest heaving. He raised one hand; his fingers crept; they shakily brushed against your cheek.
“Is- is that all?” he whispered, unsure of himself; unsure of your current state.
“I-I didn’t hurt you?” he asked with great concern.
You only shook your head, slowly gliding your exorbitantly wet sex across his rigid member, his ribs and crests pushing you towards the throes of another pleasurable release.
Shriv threw his head back and bared his fangs in his own show of corporeal euphoria, his fingers lightly dredging into the plump, meaty thickness of your rump. It did not take long for him to reach a peak, though he held off, grinding his teeth into his bottom lip.
You impressed your cunt against him as far as it would go; you shoved his monstrous cock to the back of your canal. You ground your hips into him as much as you could stand it, your slick cavity full to the brim with his foreign anatomy.
Shriv’s eyelids fluttered as you came a second time, your declamation perhaps loud enough to hear beyond the door. Shriv instinctually lifted up his arm; he clamped your mouth shut, but so very, very gently.
“Quietly, darling, q-quiet...” he hummed through lips now pursed. He was afraid of the general hearing you, or anyone who might be around. He was still somewhat self-conscious; he liked to keep things private. He didn’t like unwanted questions or people meddling in his affairs – at least when it came to this.
Your teeth sank into his blue flesh in a tender nibble; he gasped before he was pushed to his own climax. His back had arced before he limply fell, hassling out haggard puffs of air in his exhaustion.
You crumpled atop him; you clung to his neck and shoulders. You buried your nose in the crook of his cool neck. You whimpered, whispering.
“Stay here. Just today. Don’t go. Don’t leave.”
You wouldn’t see it, but Shriv’s browridge knitted. He shifted to pet your head, his reedy fingers sweeping back a few wisps of your silken hair.
His words came out gravelly, his voice lacquered with an air of earnest, “Fullua, you know I have t-”
“No!” you belted out, clinging harder to him. He wrapped his arms around your upper body and cradled you against his chest. He thought it over before responding. Maybe there was some way he could make it work, though he would have to reorganize his schedule and explain himself.
“All right. Just today,” he confirmed, though sternly, yet he was still worried for you, his intonations giving away his deep unease.
Your head rose; you kissed him zealously. He managed to smirk against your soft lips, though when you pulled away his voice held a modicum of sass.
“Just caan’t get enough of me, caan you?” he feigned exasperated.
You could have retorted just as audaciously if you had wanted to, fallen into his mode of joking. Instead, you cupped his clear-cut mandible, grazing your fingers across his bristly chin.
“No, I can’t.”
Shriv nearly choked on his own spit. He hadn’t expected such an honest, forthright reply. He thought you might poke or prod at him at his expense like you always did, though his heart welled with a buzzing slew of happy chords and sentiments.
“Wait right here,” he commanded lightly.
He left you there for several minutes; you heard noises from your little kitchenette. He had brewed a cup of caf, toasted some bread to coat with jam, and offered you sliced pear and starfruit.
You took it from him; he snuggled back up into you. He shared a piece of fruit from off your plate and activated the holoprojector that sat across from you. He grinned like a giddy child.
“I used to love watching cartoonss in the morning – always made me feel better when I waas down.”
He stopped to study you, the simple act of you nibbling your piece of fruit. His grin softened until it became a smile. He faintly kissed your forehead and you instantly felt relaxed.
“But I’ll never love anything as much as I love you,” he finished, leaving you melting and your heart ready to burst.
The Duros knew just how to placate you, and for that you were quite thankful. Even if it turned out to be nothing, even if it was all a dream... for him to humor you, or to take you seriously, whatever this might be - it meant his words rang true, and you loved him, too.
---
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