Same Heart, Same Blood

TBB

Hunter rarely drinks a lot, preferring to keep a clear head in case something goes wrong. If he does let himself get drunk it's only because he knows everyone's safe and he can afford to ease up for a little bit. Alcohol relaxes him but makes him a little quieter than usual. He also gets kinda clingy when he's drunk and wants you close, winding his arm around your waist to keep you next to him. As the night wears on he keeps tugging you closer and closer until you're practically in his lap and he's whispering all low and raspy in your ear about what he wants to do with you the second you're both alone

Tech dislikes the feeling of being drunk and normally paces himself, but he's also a complete lightweight. He can be drunk after a drink or two. It can be hard to pick up on though because all that really changes is he's a little more talkative and argumentative than usual, and like, he's already both of those things when sober. Also gets even more open with whatever's on his mind, for better or for worse. Only time his train of thought gets interrupted is when he glances over at you, and he suddenly catches himself fixating on your lips

Wrecker can put away an absurd amount of alcohol before it really catches up to him. He'll have been drinking half the night before it hits him and then he's even louder than usual, laughing at everything, gets more competitive. Do NOT give him a dare while drunk because he WILL do it regardless of what it is. Also gets even more affectionate and you're gonna be spending the night getting smothered in sloppy kisses and frequent declarations about how much he loves you, how hot you are, how lucky he is, etc. Those sloppy kisses eventually migrate down your jawline to your neck and he grips your hips to lift you onto his lap, and you know it's time to go somewhere private lmao

Crosshair likes a drink now and then, usually nursing it in silence rather than making a night of it. Alcohol strips away what little patience he has and makes his sarcasm sharper and his temper shorter. Like he'll pick a fight over a sideways glance. He also gets sort of clingy and slightly more open about how he wants your attention. Holds your hand and yanks you back over to him whenever you get up or start to walk away. Eventually guides your hand under the table, pressing your palm firmly against the slowly growing bulge in his pants and then just stares at you, taking a slow sip of his drink while his thumb strokes your inner wrist

Echo doesn't get affected by alcohol the same way he used to. It now leaves him feeling more nauseous than relaxed, so he rarely bothers with more than a sip or two. Like if you're drinking he'll try a sip of yours and then that's about it. Sometimes wishes he could still tolerate it but he's fine with being the sober one and just keeping an eye on everyone and taking care of you. Lets himself get more affectionate than usual with you once he finally gets you home, tucking you into bed and brushing your hair away from your face as he chuckles quietly at your sleepy drunken rambling. Leans down to press a tender kiss to your forehead and then your lips, whispering how much he loves you

501st

Rex enjoys a drink now and then, mostly just enough to get him pleasantly tipsy. He loosens up a lot with alcohol, goes a little softer and smiles a lot. Gets more openly affectionate with you as well, usually he's reserved with PDA but he'll settle an arm around your shoulders and let himself relax a little bit. Eventually, that arm around your shoulders slips down to your waist, pulling you flush against his side. Presses a little kiss right below your ear as he asks you quietly if you wanna get out of here

Fives has a pretty high tolerance and enjoys getting drunk. Alcohol mostly makes him really talkative, a little louder than usual. Also gets even more affectionate and handsy with you than usual, will steal kisses whenever he gets the chance and brags loudly about you to anyone who'll listen. Eventually gets you to himself in a quiet corner and laughs a little breathlessly against your neck between kisses, pressing his hips against yours and drunkenly muttering that he thinks he might be too impatient to wait for a bed right now

Kix usually sticks to just one or two drinks, enjoys the company/social aspect more than the alcohol itself. He's like a little bit of a lightweight tbh but is careful about not getting too drunk. Wants to be able to take care of you if necessary. If he does get really drunk he gets really sentimental, rambling quietly to you about how perfect you are and how much he loves you. When he gets you in private he's burying his face in your neck with messy, open-mouthed kisses, his hand lazily drifting down between your legs to press through your clothes as he slurs quietly about how much he needs you

Jesse always tells himself he's just gonna have a couple drinks but then "just one more"s himself into blacking out and waking up the next morning with absolutely no memory of the night's events. Trying to get him home is an ordeal in itself, he's absolutely the guy who earnestly informs you that he can't go home with you because he already has a boyfriend/girlfriend/partner and you have to be like "yeah Jesse that's ME". Then he's like oh thank god and pulls you into a delighted, sloppy, very uncoordinated kiss, his hands squeezing your ass as he mumbles semi-coherently about how he's gonna bend you over the second you get home. yeah, sure, buddy.

Hardcase can drink a borderline concerning amount before the alcohol catches up to him. The first half of the night is chaos, he's somehow louder and more energetic with even less self-control than usual. Then it hits him all at once and he's instantly just soooo sleepy and will use you as a pillow wherever you happen to be sitting. You get him home and he's instantly collapsing on you, burying his face in your chest and grinding lazily against your thigh until he's out again

Tup likes a drink now and then but generally just has enough to get him a little buzzed and then stops. He's a really sweet drunk, like giggling over everything and smiling at anyone who looks at him and acting like every single thing you say is the most fascinating thing he's ever heard in his life. Also has no filter when he's drunk and will either tell the most unhinged jokes you've ever heard from him or will just be gushing over you all night. His eyes eventually lose focus on anything else as he keeps rambling praises to you, his gaze drifting just a little too obviously over your body like he just can't take his eyes off you. His compliments start getting more and more specific until he's quietly mumbling against your ear how much he wishes he was inside you right now

Dogma is a complete lightweight and would rather die than admit it. Drunk after one drink while insisting that he isn't. Gets extremely argumentative over everything but also really tongue-tied which just frustrates him. The second you give him attention though all his stubbornness and irritation goes away and he gets soooo pathetically clingy. But then he gets you alone and tries to tell you what he wants and just can't find the words because his mind's so foggy. Whining in frustration, he grips your wrists and guides them to his belt, slurring a desperate, pouty, "Just do it for me. Please. Please. You know what I want."

Commanders

Cody enjoys a drink on occasion, usually for a reason like celebrating something. Rarely gets like really drunk but if he does he kinda wears his heart on his sleeve lol. Gets sentimental and reminisces about old campaigns, all while keeping a hand on your thigh. It eventually drifts higher and higher until he just barely brushes it between your thighs under the table, leaning in to press a kiss to your cheek when your breath hitches. Chuckles quietly and murmurs that he thinks it's time to call it a night

Wolffe drinks pretty regularly though it's usually just enough to take the edge off rather than to get actually drunk. Just like a couple drinks after a long day. Has a high tolerance. If he does drink enough to really feel it he gets quieter instead of louder. Would much rather disappear somewhere with you than stick around, becoming very touch-starved and making up for all the affection he denies himself while sober. Gets frustrated by his drunken lack of coordination and gets very rough and needy, stumbling as he shoves you into a quiet hallway, his hands gripping your hips hard enough to bruise as he shoves his thigh between your legs and groans into your mouth

Fox doesn't drink often but when he does he commits. Gets a little competitive with it sometimes and will drink way more than he probably should, all while frequently checking in with you and reminding you firmly not to drink too much. Also gets soooo clingy when he's drunk. He's normally so focused on appearances but once he gets drunk enough all that goes out the window. He's glued to you all night, constantly reaching for your hand and quietly begging to go find somewhere private. The second he gets you behind closed doors, he's practically tripping over his own boots to push you down, riding your thigh as he clumsily fumbles with your clothes and pleads under his breath for you to hurry up and help him

Bly is a sappy drunk. Wild nights often simply don't exist for him because he gets some alcohol in him and then just goes all dreamy and sentimental. Stares at you like you're the most wonderful, most gorgeous person he's ever encountered in his life. Gets talkative too and then is embarrassed the next day over all the sappy, romantic stuff he was saying lol. His sappiness turns fully into devotion as soon as you get him to bed, the sex slow and lazy and romantic, Bly rocking slowly into you as he kisses you everywhere and rambles about how good you feel and all the things he loves about you

Bacara barely ever drinks because he hates being drunk, hates the feeling of not being in total control of himself. Which means his tolerance is LOW. When he does drink, he gets grumpier and grumpier the more he can feel the effects of the alcohol. Beneath the irritated mumbling he's mostly just embarrassed but wouldn't ever let anyone see that. Gets annoyed if you try to take care of him and insists he's fine even if he's like stumbling over his own feet. That anger turns very stubborn and dominant as he grapples with his lack of coordination/control, yanking you down on top of him as soon as you get home and growling that since his legs won't work you're going to have to do all the work on top tonight

Neyo has a drink every now and then but you'd be hard pressed to notice any difference. He's SO good at hiding when he's drunk. He keeps himself super composed and is pretty good at keeping his speech even. The only giveaway is that his guard slips just enough for dry jokes to come a little easier and he stands/sits closer to you than he'd normally let himself in public. Leans in close, his breath warm against your ear, quietly chuckling about how easy it would be to make you cum right here under the table without anyone noticing

Gregor loves a good drink and enjoys getting drunk. Once he's started though he doesn't shut up. Likes recounting stories and trying to impress you with them. Gets very animated and expressive and pretty touchy, keeps his arm thrown around your shoulders the whole night and presses frequent kisses to your cheek or the corner of your mouth because he feels like it. Also loves sloppy drunk makeouts tbh, gripping your thighs to lift you onto the table and coaxing you to wrap your legs around his waist, completely unbothered by anyone who sees

Mayday likes a drink after a long day though he doesn't usually drink enough to get drunk, just to give himself a little buzz. Alcohol doesn't change him much, just softens him up around the edges. Gets a little more openly affectionate and jokes with you a lot. Mostly focuses on taking care of you the whole night though, including once he gets you back home. Lazily strips you down, pressing affectionate kisses all over your body with every piece of clothing he removes, murmuring that he's going to take his sweet time between your legs tonight

Tag List:

Fives always makes eye contact first, staring straight up at you. He makes sure you watch him lower his head, ensuring you see the exact moment his focus shifts from your eyes to between your thighs. He wants you to know that you’ll remember this before he even begins.

Fives really focuses on nipping, sucking and licking slowly all around before going fully in. His teeth graze lightly along your swollen folds as he sucks each one into his mouth.

Fives moves unhurried, dragging his tongue in long strokes across your swollen clit. He has no intention on savoring the taste of you until you’re absolutely drenched for him.

Fives positions you carefully, spreading your thighs wide and pinning them open with his hands, his fingers digging into your skin as he settles between your legs.

Fives treats every part of you as a destination to explore. He doesn’t skirt the edges on his way to your clit - he dwells there. He circles the bud with the very tip of his tongue, before curling his tongue to fuck you slowly. He claims that speed is for the impatient and the greedy. For you, he is neither. He takes pride in that.

Fives pauses periodically, pulling his tongue out of you just to watch the way you clench for him. He smirks at every twitch and whimper before he dives back in.

Fives wants this to last as long as possible. If you’re close (and he always knows if you are) he pulls back just enough for his breath to ghost over you, letting the heat of him tease you while you tremble on the edge.

Fives hums the whole time, the vibration rumbling straight against you as he sucks. The sound becomes music to his ears when it mixes with the wet, sloppy noises of him eating you out.

Fives never breaks his rhythm, no matter how much you squirm or buck. His grip tightens on your hips as he keeps that same steady pace. His tongue continues to work relentlessly while your thighs shake around his head.

Fives seems almost reluctant to let you finish, drawing your orgasm out with lazy circles around your clit. He’d rather stay buried between your legs forever.

Fives finishes you off with his mouth sealed over your pulsing cunt. He licks up every last gush of your cum, holding you there until the aftershocks fade.

He needed to see you.

That was the only thought running through his head, the only thing that mattered in this moment. The guilt at not helping his brothers settle in after such a tough mission can come tomorrow.

Tonight, he planned on getting lost in you.

He keyed in the code to your front door. Your singing is the first thing he registered as he made sure the door locked behind him. His armor trailed behind him as he moved inside, following the sound of your voice into the kitchen.

There you are.

He could cry with how beautiful you were. Karking vibrant as you moved effortlessly in your own space, putting away dishes like it was a choreographed performance, your hips swinging to the beat you were singing.

You were everything good, and sweet, and kind, and pure in this galaxy. Everything he longed but never hoped for.

Everything you insisted he deserved.

He wasn’t so sure of that, not with the specter of old battles haunting him. But he also wasn’t a good enough man to care, not when you gave yourself to him so happily.

“Can I cut in?”

 You yelped, and Jesse was glad he chose to stay in the entry based on how you flailed about, surprised by his voice.

“Jesse!” Your tone was a mix of annoyed and overjoyed and he had never heard anything so lovely. You flew across the kitchen, forcing him to catch you as you threw yourself into his arms.

“Hi, gorgeous,” Jesse grumbled into your ear, his hold around you tightening. He let his hands mold to the curve of your frame, relishing in the feel of you securely against him. He could feel each breath you took as your chest expanded against his, and yet he was compelled to pull you even closer.

“How long do I have you?”

“Four days.”

He could feel your smile form against his neck. It was more than he usually got.

“Lucky.” Jesse looked down as he felt you pull back and look up at him. “You’ve got lousy timing. I just finished cleaning up. You’re lucky you’re cute, though. I don’t mind dirtying up the kitchen again. What d’ya want for dinner? I’ve got some tip yi—"

He cut you off with the seal of his lips against yours. Food wasn’t going to satisfy him. He needed you, and he needed you to need him just as fiercely.

Jesse walked you back to trap you against the wall, his hips meeting yours as he pressed himself against you, trapping you as his tongue darted out to tease your soft lips. Satisfaction hummed pleasantly through his body as you melted from his touch.

Your mouth dropped open at his insistence, and he couldn’t resist gently taking your lower lip between his own and sucking, soothing the strain after with the swipe of his tongue.

Gods, he couldn’t get enough of those sweet moans you made just for him.

“Sorry baby. I couldn’t wait another second. Needed my mouth on you. Needed you right here against me.” His apology was half sincere at best. Tomorrow he can be sorry for interrupting, for taking what he needed.

You pushed up against him to hold your lips against his as you said, “Don’t be sorry. I’ve missed you, too.”

Jesse pushed forward, done with teasing touches at your approval. He claimed your mouth with his, stealing the very breath from your lungs and replacing it with himself. You returned his frenzy, trailing your tongue against his before pulling back enough to nip at his lip, the shock of the sting shooting straight to his groin.

With a growl from deep in his chest, Jesse broke away, distracted for only a split second by the string of saliva connecting his lips to your sinful tongue, still poking out of your open mouth.

~ dm for removal -

Rex: Situational erectile dysfunction

Weeks of a recent, brutal campaign are still clinging to Rex, weighing down his mind even as he presses you into the mattress. He wants you desperately, but the stress of command refuses to leave him completely; his hands roam your body eagerly, his mouth pressing hot kisses to your neck, his hips grinding down against your thigh, but his cock remains soft.

With a frustrated grunt, Rex pulls back, resting his forehead against yours. "Kriff," he gasps. "I'm sorry, sweetheart. I-- I can't. Again."

Your expression softens, and you gently push him to lie on his back. "It's okay," you murmur, straddling his hips and guiding his trembling hands to your waist. "I don't need you hard to make you feel good. Just…let me."

You press your lips to his in a deep, wet kiss, starting to grind down against his soft, leaking cock. Rex groans into your mouth, his grip tightening on your hips as the pressure to perform slowly melts away. You ride his hips in a slow, grinding rhythm, the friction coaxing heavy precum to drool from his cock against his own stomach.

"Maker…" he whimpers against your mouth, grinding his hips up to match your slow, rolling pace. His mind is going quiet, focused on the weight of your body against his. "More, baby. A little harder for me--"

You oblige, rolling your hips down harder and heavier. Rex's body goes rigid as his fingers dig into your waist and he starts to tremble. Finally, with a rough groan, his pelvis tilts upward as he cums hard, spurting thick and hot across his own stomach. You follow him soon after, a moan catching in your throat as you ride out your own orgasm.

You collapse onto his chest, and Rex wraps his arms around you tight. "I don't deserve you," he mumbles, nuzzling into your neck. "Maker, I'm so lucky. Thank you, baby."

Fives: Delayed ejaculation

Fives knows he's good in bed. He knows what he likes, he knows what you like, and he loves giving you pleasure, but his own body is…stubborn. He's been fucking into you for almost two hours, a pillow jammed beneath your hips for a better angle, his cock getting frustratingly sore despite not having cum yet. He's been switching positions and angles to get the perfect amount of friction, but it's not working. He hates worrying about wearing you out, and worse, hates the idea of you thinking it's because you're not good enough. So when he hears you whine beneath him, he grunts faintly and adjusts his weight so he can look at you.

"I know. I know, cyare," he pants, pressing a kiss to your lips. "You feel so kriffing good. So tight. I'm close, I promise I'm close, just a little more for me…" He pauses to adjust his hips with a groan, grinding his cock into you. "You can take a little more for me, yeah? You okay?"

You whine again, digging your fingers into his shoulders, but nod. "Y-yeah, I'm okay…but…sore…"

Fives exhales roughly, leaning down to kiss you again. "You wanna stop? Or you wanna cum one more time for me? Think you can do that?"

You nod weakly again, and Fives lets out a low groan of appreciation. "Knew it," he praises, picking up his rhythm again. "Clench for me. Come on, squeeze me, baby. Kriff-- yeah, just like that--"

He fucks into you hard, pressing his face into your neck as his breathing grows even more ragged. You gasp as your orgasm hits, writhing beneath him, and Fives moans loudly at the pressure.

"That's it…that's it, baby, exactly like that--" His words dissolve into a groan as his muscles lock up and he finally cums, his cock throbbing inside you as he pumps himself empty. He collapses against you, slick with sweat, panting heavily into your neck.

After a quiet moment, he shifts so he's not putting his full weight on you, and cups your face in his hand. "That was kriffing incredible," he whispers, kissing your forehead. "You okay? I didn't wear you out too much, did I?"

You let out a dazed, exhausted breath, tracing his damp shoulder. "…You did," you admit, nearly too tired to form words, but you smile up at him anyway. "…In the best way, though."

Kix: Low libido

Kix works so hard taking care of the 501st that often by the time he finally gets you alone his mind and body are completely drained. He desperately wants the intimacy, the closeness, but his libido often just…isn't really there. Tonight, it seems, is no different.

You're lying together in bed, his arms wrapped tightly around you, but there's clear tension in him. He keeps kissing your cheeks and temple, his hands sweeping over your back, but he hasn't made a move to take things further.

With a soft sigh, he pulls back slightly, looking a little guilty. "…You mind if we just stay like this tonight?" he asks, bring his hand up to brush his thumb over your cheek. "I know you were…probably expecting more. I'm sorry, love."

You lean into his touch, your expression softening. "Kix, this is perfect," you assure him, sliding your arms around his neck to pull him closer. "I just want you. This is more than enough."

Kix exhales, visibly relieved, and buries his face in the crook of your neck. "Can I do something for you?" he asks, one of his hands drifting down to your thigh. "I can at least make you feel good. Let me do that for you."

When you nod, he smiles faintly. Keeping you flush against his chest, he slides his hand between your thighs and down beneath the waist of your pants. "Close your eyes, baby," he coos against your ear.

He starts a slow rhythm, knowing exactly how to touch you to make you gasp. He pulls back a little to watch your face, captivated by the way your chest heaves and your fingers grip his shoulders. He doesn't need sex himself to feel completely connected to you; seeing you unravel in his hands is more than enough.

You whine, hiding your face in his chest as the pleasure builds, your hips rolling helplessly against his hand.

"That's it. Let it go," Kix murmurs encouragingly, kissing your temple, his pace increasing a little. "I've got you."

With a breathless cry, your orgasm hits you and your body arches against his. Kix holds you through the aftershocks, stroking you through it until you finally slump against him. Then he pulls his hand away and pulls you right back into his chest, tangling his legs with yours and kissing you sweet and slow. "Perfect," he mumbles. "Just perfect."

Jesse: Curved dick

Jesse wants nothing more than to be able to lose control and fuck you as hard as his body is constantly aching for, but he knows he needs to be careful. Every time he eases his cock inside you, he goes slower than he has to, doesn't sink as deep as he wants, worried that the odd angle will hurt you. He hates it, but accepts it.

Tonight, as he hovers over you with his jaw clenched, clearly holding himself back, you've had enough. You reach down, wrapping your fingers around his wrist, and tug his hand away from where he's bracing his weight.

"Jesse," you pant, looking up at him. "Stop holding back. Fuck me."

Jesse's breath hitches a little before he groans. "Don't…ugh, don't tempt me. Don't wanna hurt you. The way I'm shaped, I--"

You slide your hands up his chest, gripping his broad shoulders and pulling him down to press a hard, demanding kiss to his lips. "You won't," you mumble against his mouth, wrapping your thighs around his hips to pull him deeper inside you. "Wanna feel all of you. Please just fuck me. Hard."

Jesse shudders, pressing his hips into yours with a groan. He hesitates for just a second, trembling with restraint, but when he glances at your expression again, his control finally snaps. With a low growl, he pulls his hips back and then slams into you in a deep, rough thrust. You let out a breathless gasp, arching off the mattress, and Jesse moans. He finally starts to pound into you the way he's wanted forever.

"Kriff yes," he groans, straightening up so he can grip your thighs and push them back, driving himself deeper into you again and again. "You like that? You like how that feels, baby?"

You nod breathlessly, crying out as the curve of his cock hits you at just the right angle, filling you completely. "Yes--yes, Jesse, please," you whimper, tossing your head back on the pillow.

Jesse groans again, his rhythm turning a little frantic as you squeeze tightly around him. He holds himself back from cumming for as long as he can, but he can only take so much. With a final, desperate heave of his hips that buries him as deep as he can possibly go, his body locks up and his orgasm hits him.

He collapses over you, chest heaving, his face buried in your shoulder as he catches his breath. "Kriff," he mutters, turning his head to kiss your jaw. "Never holding back again."

Hardcase: Hypersexuality

Hardcase can be…a lot. He wants you constantly. His usual energy all seems to go straight to his cock the second he's alone with you, and he's ready to fuck you to exhaustion at nearly any chance he gets. Lately, though, you've noticed him pulling back. In fact, he's kept his hands to himself for nearly a week.

Tired of the space, you catch him alone one night, straddling his lap and pulling his hands to rest firmly on your hips. "You've been ignoring me," you pout, wrapping your arms around his neck. "What's going on, Hardcase?"

Hardcase snorts at your pout, a smile tugging at his mouth even as his shoulders tense a little. "Just don't wanna be a menace," he says lightly, but you can hear the little bit of insecurity in his tone. "I'm always on you. Don't wanna...wear you out, or make you think that…you know…that's all I want."

You give him a flat look, rocking your hips down against his. "If I wanted less, I'd tell you," you murmur, leaning in close. "I love how much you want me. You could never wear me out."

His eyes widen a little, his breathing picking up slightly. His hands tighten on your hips as he rocks up against you a little with a groan. "You sure? It's been a while. Not gonna be able to go easy on you."

"Don't you dare go easy." You slide off his lap, instead lying back and parting your thighs in invitation. Hardcase groans and drops between your legs instantly, yanking off your clothes. He buries his face in your crotch, his lips and tongue moving over you ravenously.

"Kriff," he moans against you, breathing your scent deep. "You taste so kriffing good. Missed this so much."

His hands dig into your hips, pinning you to the sheets as he sucks and licks at you like he's starving for it. He doesn't pace himself, and he doesn't stop. He can go for hours, and now that he knows you really, really want that? He fully intends to do this until neither of you can physically move.

Tup: Performance anxiety

Tup's mind is his own worse enemy sometimes. He's attempting to fuck you from behind, his hands digging into your hips, but his mind is spinning. Is he holding your hips too tight? Is this angle weird? Is he taking too long? Kriff, he's certain he's taking too long. The pressure to perform is so loud that his cock won't stay hard. It slips out, and with a miserable sigh, he slumps against your back.

"I'm sorry," he mumbles, pressing an apologetic kiss to your shoulder blade. "It…it won't stay hard. I don't know what's wrong with me."

You turn around and sit back on your heels, cupping his face and smoothing out the crease of worry between his brows. "Tup, nothing's wrong with you," you murmur soothingly. "Look. Why don't you let me take care of you tonight?"

You guide him onto his back, settling between his thighs. Tup tenses as your hand wraps around his semi-hard cock. "You don't have to," he stammers, nervous again. "I feel bad--"

"Shhh." You lean down and drag your tongue up the length of his cock. "Just relax for me."

Tup gasps softly, his hips twitching as you take his tip in your mouth and swirl your tongue over the sensitive head. The anxiety is still there, though: what if he can't get hard for this? Does he look-- oh, Maker, he probably looks bad from this angle. He tips his head back to stare at the ceiling, folding his arms over his stomach and swallowing hard.

You notice his stiff posture, gently pulling his arms away from his stomach and tangling one of his hands with yours. "Close your eyes, baby. Just try to feel it."

You take him into your mouth again, sucking gently while your free hand strokes his base. The warm, wet friction slowly does its work: he starts to thicken and harden fully against your tongue. You hum in approval, swallowing him deeper and sucking harder.

Tup groans, his mind finally going fuzzy, his hips rocking into your mouth in needy, involuntary thrusts. "Stars…that feels…" You pick up the pace a little, and he moans. "Kriff, I'm gonna--"

He gasps, his knuckles turning white as he squeezes your hand. With a choked moan, he arches off the mattress, shuddering violently as he cums thick and hot down your throat. As you swallow every drop, his eyes go wide. He pulls you up his body, wrapping you tight in his arms and kissing you deeply, tasting himself on your lips. "You didn't have to do that," he mumbles against your mouth. "But, Force, it felt so good. Thank you."

Dogma: Premature ejaculation/inexperience

Dogma is hovering over you, jaw clenched, trying to project a dominance he simply doesn't have. He lines the head of his aching cock up against your entrance, swallowing hard as he tries to press in for the fifth time. But once again, his body goes rigid and he stops, breathing shakily, just the sensation of being pressed against you too much for him to handle.

"Dogma, please," you breathe, tilting your hips up for him, but he shakes his head jerkily, his face completely flushed.

"Wait. Just…hold on," he mumbles, his voice cracking a little. He tries again, guiding his tip back to your opening, but as he pushes in just a little and he feels your warmth squeezing him, his whole body shudders. He pulls out fast with a frustrated groan. "Kriff…I can't. I'm going to--"

You reach up to grip his shoulders, gently pushing him onto his back. "Here. Just let me," you soothe.

Dogma's eyes go wide as you straddle his thighs. You wrap your hand around his throbbing, leaking cock, guiding him to your entrance. He gasps, his hands shooting up to grip your waist, his fingers trembling against your skin as he watches you slowly lower yourself. The second his sensitive tip catches fully on your entrance, he chokes.

You try to slide down, but before you can even take an inch of him, Dogma's body is arching violently off the mattress. His nails dig into your hips as he gasps loudly, his climax hitting him embarrassingly fast. His cock pulses as thick, erratic spurts of cum spill from him, flooding the outside of your heat and dripping down between your thighs.

He collapses back, face burning with mortification as he drapes an arm over his eyes. "I-- I'm sorry," he stammers. "It was supposed to be…I was supposed to…"

You gently pull his arm away, leaning down to kiss his flushed cheek. "It's okay. No one's perfect on their first try," you whisper. "Besides…we have all night to try again."

Tag List:

Hunter: Premature ejaculation

Hunter tries to hold back, he really does, but the second he's buried inside you, his whole body is locking up. The sheer sensory overload has him totally overwhelmed. Every squeeze of your walls around his cock, your fingers digging into his skin, your soft gasp as he bottoms out…it's all too much. He's gasping through gritted teeth already, his entire body shaking. He manages only three deep, heavy thrusts before he groans and you feel warmth flooding you, his cock twitching hard as he spills into you in thick ropes.

He freezes, panting hard, before he drops his forehead against your shoulder. "Damn it," he mutters, his voice raw. "Kriff. I--I came. I'm sorry."

You're panting softly beneath him, your hands still gripping his arms, but when you feel him shift as if to pull out, you wrap your legs around his waist to trap him inside you.

"Hey, no. Look at me," you whisper, trailing your hands up to gentle cradle his face and guide him to look at you. "It's okay. You feel amazing. Stay right here."

He huffs faintly, allowing you to guide his head up. His eyes flick over your face, still a little unfocused from his release. "Of course you'd be sweet about this," he mutters gruffly, a fond edge to his tone. "I barely lasted 15 seconds, mesh'la. You don't have to be happy about it."

You smile softly, gentle stroking his hair away from his face. "I'm just saying you don't have to apologize for wanting me that much," you whisper back, just slightly teasingly. "It's okay, Hunter. Besides…we have all night."

He groans faintly, leaning down to press his forehead against yours, all the remaining tension draining out of him. "All night, huh?" he mumbles, tilting his head to brush his lips against yours. "Don't tempt me."

Tech: Small dick

The analytical side of Tech's brain rarely shuts off, but with his back pressed against the wall and your hands roaming over his body, all of his usual logical thinking is out the window. You're kissing him deep and messy, leaving you both breathless. Your chest presses hard against his and your hand slides down his chest, past his waist, and then finally settles over the bulge in his pants, but Tech suddenly stiffens.

He pulls his lips from yours, his breathing ragged, his hand coming down to gently but firmly catch your wrist.

"Wait," he manages, his voice tighter than usual. His eyes dart nervously over your face. "I--for the sake of…managing expectations, I should--I should inform you that I, ah--" He cuts himself off, swallowing hard before continuing. "I am…significantly below the standard average. If…if that is a….deterrent, then--"

"Tech." You interrupt him quietly, leaning in to press a soft, lingering kiss to his jawline before looking him in the eye again. "I don't care. I want you."

Tech's shoulders drop a little and he releases your wrist, allowing you to slowly pull his pants down enough to free his cock. He's fully erect, small and twitching, and you don't hesitate to wrap your fingers around him and give him a slow stroke.

Tech lets out a soft gasp, his head tilting back against the wall. His fingers dig into your hips as you find a rhythm, pumping his cock in your palm, your thumb rubbing over the sensitive head.

"See? Perfect fit," you whisper against his neck, pressing closer to him. "You're so perfect, Tech. Look how hard you are for me."

Tech moans shakily, his eyes squeezing shut as you increase your pace a little. He tries to say something else but seems unable to find words for once, instead tipping his head forward to catch your lips with his again. He gasps against your mouth as your other hand comes down to cup his balls, squeezing gently.

"Ah--yes. Yes, d-don't stop--" he chokes against your lips, his hips stuttering forward against your palm.

You smile against his mouth, still keeping a steady pace. You praise him, telling him exactly how pretty his dick looks in your hand, how perfectly it fits, until his breath turns into short, desperate hitches. He jerks hard in your grip, his thighs shaking, and then he's cumming, spurting thick, hot cum all over your fingers with a rough, shaky moan.

Wrecker: Hyperspermia

Poor Wrecker is usually so careful with his size, but once he's buried deep inside you, he's just so pent-up and you squeeze him so tightly that he doesn't know how to stop. He braces himself on his elbows over you, careful not to crush you with his weight as he fucks you, even when his body locks up and his cock pulses deep inside you. He spills into you over and over, thick ropes of cum flooding you completely until you're overflowing. It's messy, the heavy streams dripping out of you and onto the sheets beneath you, but his body won't stop. He groans low in his chest, an almost desperate sound, because it's still not enough.

"Ah, kriff," Wrecker pants, his face buried in your neck, his massive frame shaking as another wave hits him. He thrusts again, a jerky, desperate shove that stuffs you full all over again, forcing more of his cum to gush out between your legs. "'M sorry…'m so sorry…making such a mess of you. It's too much, I know it is."

You're almost dazed beneath him, gasping at the stretch of him, at the warmth of his release inside you, at the wet heat pooling beneath you. You don't speak for a moment, trying to gather your thoughts, and you squeeze your thighs tighter around his hips.

"Don't apologize," you finally pant out, tilting your head to press your lips to his temple. "I love it. Maker, I love it, Wrecker. Give it all to me."

He groans roughly at the praise, his hips stuttering forward as his cock twitches hard inside you all over again. "You're kriffing perfect," he whimpers, lifting his head to press a messy kiss to your lips. "Hold on, baby. I still have more for you."

Crosshair: Inexperience

Crosshair would absolutely never admit it, but he doesn't actually know what he's doing here, and the fear of failing makes him even sharper than usual. To compensate for his lack of experience, he buries his head between your legs, determined to hide his hesitation by focusing entirely on your pleasure.

He's a little tense at first, his tongue and fingers tentative as he tries to find a rhythm, but he's a fast learner. Within minutes, he finds exactly what makes you gasp, and he realizes that he absolutely fucking loves the control. He gets good fast. He's licking and sucking with a sudden almost vicious confidence, his fingers working you over until you're a writhing, panting mess on the sheets.

You catch onto the shift, that initial stiffness that gave away his inexperience no matter how hard he'd tried to hide it, followed by that sudden confidence.

"Oh, Crosshair…" you moan, your hand coming down to the back of his head to pull him closer. "Right there…kriff, you're so good at this. Taking such good care of me."

He pauses for a second, his body freezing at the praise. He lets out a low grumble against your sensitive skin, trying to sound annoyed. "Shut up," he mutters, his voice raspy. "Just take it."

Then he dives back in, the praise apparently making him even more determined to perform the best he possibly can. He pushes your legs further apart, his mouth working over you almost greedily. His hips are shifting against the mattress now, grinding against it like he just can't help himself. Every sob and shaky breath you make thrills him even more, and by the time you cum, he's flushed and panting and almost as much of a mess as you.

"Again," he mutters, giving your thigh a little nip to get your attention again. "I'm not nearly done with you."

Echo: Erectile dysfunction

Echo's heart is hammering in his chest, but not for the right reason. No matter how deeply you kiss him, how much you grind against him, how much he wants you, his cock remains limp against his thigh, wet with precum that shows just how desperate he is for you, but refusing to harden. His body simply won't cooperate, and the frustration is eating him alive.

He gently pushes at your shoulders, pulling back with a pained, apologetic look in his eyes. "Hey--just wait," he breathes. "It's not working. I'm sorry. It's not you, okay? I swear it's not you, you look incredible, you feel amazing…it's just my body. It's not your fault at all."

Your expression softens with sympathy. "I know, Echo. It's okay," you whisper, refusing to let him pull away. Instead, you slide down his body, settling between his thighs instead.

He tenses, halfway to protesting, but then you take his soft, leaking cock in your hand and guide it to your lips. You look up at him, reassuring him with your eyes as you press a kiss to the underside. Then, you slide your mouth over him.

Echo groans, his hand coming down to gently stroke your hair. You suck him deep and wet, swirling your tongue over the sensitive head, treating his limp cock with the exact same hunger as if he were rock hard. It's almost torture for him; he's so intensely turned on that it hurts, his hips twitching with the desperate urge to thrust into your mouth, but he can't. He can't fuck you the way he wants to, and the mix of frustration and overwhelming pleasure almost makes him whimper.

"Maker…please…." he rasps, tilting his head back, tangling his hand in your hair. "Thank you. Thank you, you feel so good, you--oh, stars, you--" He cuts himself off with another moan, your mouth hot and tight around him, working him over until he's finally coaxed to semi-hardness. It's just enough. He jerks up into your mouth hard, letting out a shaky gasp. "I--baby, I'm gonna--"

You just suck harder, and he groans as he cums into your mouth, spurting thick ropes into your throat, his body trembling violently as you swallow every drop and suck him clean.

Tag List:

“Rex, what's wrong?” You finally asked, already looking for his hazel eyes, Rex avoiding yours.”You feel… distant” you said. 

“Nothing,” he lied, “I’m just tired, that’s all.” 

Captain Rex was many things, but he wasn’t a pretty good liar. Used to a life of being straightforward and honest, lying was an art he never mastered. 

An interrogator droid wouldn’t need to use truth serum on him, only by the sound of his voice it would know he was lying. 

And you… you knew him well enough

“Rex.” you called softly. “You know you can tell me.”

He went silent. His eyes never met yours but even so, you could tell he was thinking, measuring his words before even pronouncing them. You stood there, laying on top of him, gently caressing his chest, encouraging him, yet giving him the time and space he needed.

After a pause, he left out a defeated sigh. 

“Why me?” He questioned, finally looking at you. His eyes, for once, filled with both doubt and sadness, not the usual confident look on them.

“What do you mean?” you mumbled.

“Why did you choose to be with me? I mean you are young, smart, brave, not to mention gorgeous,and well, I am old and my body is not what it used to be” Rex said, a strange tone in his voice. He stopped for a moment before continuing, but this time in a lower tone, almost as if he didn’t want to say those words out loud  “You could be better off with someone else.”

His eyes avoided you once again

Oh. So that’s what this was all about.

Rex doubted, not of you, of course, but of himself. He doubted he was the one you should be with, especially since there were so many other men in the rebellion, more handsome, funnier, maybe smarter, but most important, they were younger than him. 

And even when you always told him how much you loved him, Rex couldn’t stop thinking maybe you needed someone else… someone your age.

But there was no way you would do that. Of course there were other guys but they weren’t Rex, no one was as strong as him, as sweet, as fun. No one else could make you feel as loved as the captain did and you had never loved someone as much as you loved your beloved Rex.

And now, he looked so helpless, so insecure, not the usual confident soldier he was. You hated to see him like this. 

Gently, you took his face between your hands and softly pulled him to look at you.

“I don't want someone else,” you assured him, “ I want you Rex. None of that matters to me, I love every single thing about you.”

You wanted to reassure him you would never change him, tell him how much you loved him…  show him just how much he meant to you. And you knew exactly how you would do it.

"You are perfect, Rex." you reassured him before capturing his lips on a soft kiss. “So perfect,” you said, moving to place a kiss on his bearded cheek, then one on his jaw followed by a little whisper on his ear, “I'm gonna show you just how perfect you are.” and with that you continued to place your lips on his neck, then his shoulder, slowly making your way down his body.

Leaving a trail of open mouthed kisses all along his broad chest and down his abdomen, kissing every single scar that adorned his tanned skin, making sure to show him just how much you adored him.

You couldn’t help but smile at the shaky breath that escaped from his lips when you started to move further down.

"Cyare-" he hissed, when you reached his already hardening cock. With a swift yet gentle move, his hand found your cheek and stopped you, prompting you to look at him. “You don’t have to.” he started but was cut off by your hand gently stroking him, a little moan escaping his throat.

"Shh, let me take care of you, love." you cooed, looking back at him through heavy eyelashes. Making his heart skip a beat and his cock twitch in your hand. Maker, he was certain you were going to be the death of him if you kept looking at him like that.   

After an approval nod from the soldier you slowly started to lick the sides and tip of his cock before enveloping him with your mouth. 

“Osik-” he cursed and throwed his head back, enjoying the feeling of your wet hot mouth around him.

You wanted to make him feel just how much you loved him, you wanted to make him feel good and worship his whole body. 

You made sure to show him how much he meant to you with every lick and every twist of your tongue, making him groan with every bob of your head. Soon the captain was at your mercy as you  started to move faster, his hands instantly falling to your hair, keeping you in place as you continued to work him. It didn't take long for him to start  bucking his hips up, loud moans and groans echoed through the room as a signal of his release getting closer and closer.

He called out your name when he came, eyes closed in pure bliss, throwing his head back on the pillow and  spilling his seed on your throat with a loud grunt.  Proud of your work, you did your best to swallow every drop before getting him out of your mouth. 

"Damn it, cyar'ika." Rex panted, trying to catch his breath after the pleasure you just gave him. Looking down, he found you laying your head on his belly, a faint tone of pink painting your cheeks.  

A mischievous grin curved the Capitan's lips, a hidden plan on them. You knew that smirk just too damn well, you knew he was plotting his next move.

“C´me here,” he commanded softly and he guided you to lay on top of him, your legs on each side of his hips. The captain caressed the side of your face with one of his large hands, taking a moment to admire your features before pulling you in for a passionate kiss. He could taste himself in your tongue, but he didn't mind. As he continued to deepen the kiss his other hand traveled and caressed your naked body, pulling you closer and closer to him. You could feel him pressing against you, hard and wet for both your saliva and his cum.

"You are too good to me. I don't deserve it", he told you.

"Yes, you do, my love", you assured him, placing a kiss on his lips before gently pushing yourself up so you could have a better look of him, "You deserve the world, the stars, hell… you deserve the whole galaxy."

And if words would not convince him maybe your actions would.

Slowly, you lowered your hips down until you met his hard cock and slowly guided it to your entrance. The feeling of his cock sinking inside you made you close your eyes and curse as you tried to relax and take him full, the captain proudly chuckled beneath you.

Once you adjusted, you slowly started to move your hips back and forward, keeping a nice and steady rhythm,  making you both moan at the pleasant sensation. 

Stars, he looked gorgeous like this,  sweat glistening across his tanned skin with a soft shade of pink dancing over it. Looking up at you with those beautiful amber eyes. He was a sight for sore eyes. And you wanted him to know, wanted him to see himself the way you saw him: perfect.

"Look at you Rex, beautiful..”, you praised as you continued to rock your hips, “Fuck, you look so gorgeous…", your voice full of lust and appreciation as you started to pick up the pace, moaning as the captain beneath you throw his head back in pleasure once again,  "So good, you make me feel so good.” 

And with that the captain groaned loudly before he  grabbed your hips and  thrust upwards, hard. Something about telling him how good he was had always seemed to make Rex go wild, and tonight was no exception.

"You are killing me, cyare." He said pulling you closer and finally taking some control after letting you take care of him.

His grip on your waist tightened as he began to guide you, urging you to go faster, thrusting his hips up with precision and skill that had you seeing stars in a second. You pressed your hands flat against his chest for leverage, speeding up the roll of your hips as you both chased your release. Filling the room with the sounds of your combined ecstasy.

Both stayed quiet while you calmed down, letting out small breaths and sighs, foreheads pressed together and eyes closed. After a moment your beloved captain guided you to lay on his chest, listening to his heartbeat, his arms carefully enveloped your frame, keeping you close. A content humm escaped Rex's throat as he watched you get comfortable in his embrace. You stayed like this for a time,  simply enjoying having each other close.

"What did I do to deserve you?" He finally mumbled once you caught your breaths, placing a small kiss on your forehead. You only chuckled a bit, looking up at him from your place, taking a second to stare directly into his beautiful amber eyes, before you spoke in the sweetest tone he had ever heard.

🦉 The Campfire

Kashyyyk | 21 BBY | First camping outside of the 41st Ranger Platoon base

Clone Medic Text was a nervousness babbler. Just to be fair, he has been actually silent all duty day, focussed and observing their new Commander and her actions. In his opinion, they couldn't have gotten a better deal. She was tough, quite protective and the best – she let them do their job.

Before moving out today, he had double checked his medic field backpack and added some of his own special features to impress and almost made it too late for the call. So he had skipped shaving and hid behind his bucket as long as possible.

Luckily the Commander seemed to be cool and collected, not too stern, not different than on their first mission together, before they were an official unit. Maybe it's just his hopes, but especially after official hours now she was smiling often and was – thankfully – quite a good listener!

Text though, he maybe has never had the chance to indulge rambling about his interests (fauna) in that scale before and maybe never will have. This moment at the campfire will linger in his head and his heart. This was so much better than his escalated downtown adventures in Coruscant!

Her sudden hand on his shoulder was at first a bit unsettling, but he got the hint, calmed down his mood a bit. He was happy with everything right now. Who could blame him? She was one of the most beautiful nat-borns he ever saw (his trainers on Kamino, some Jedi from the distance, Geonosians and Wookies, some others at 79s) and she hasn't stopped him yet and now she's even laughing!

He could get used to this. That's my Commander now, he thought, grinning cheekily at her. If he died tomorrow fulfilling his duty under her command, it would be a kriffing honor.

---

Padawan Commander Eo was nervous now too, because it was the first after official hours outside of the protection of the base. She somehow landed here, alone in the wilderness of Kashyyyk with the 5 clone troopers she initially had chosen out of the locally stationed 41st, just for a single special Jedi Padawan mission. She never thought about seeing them again, even less, that they could've got assigned to her as her own unit – long-termed.

Now she was sitting with the very same clones on some lost crates around a campfire in the small abandoned foothold they headed to camp for the night. This was strange, but in a nice way. Together they already have made themselves a name as a unit, by mere chance.

So those five men are again under her command now. For the first unofficial mission just one week ago, she had chosen them for their specialisations and for somehow standing out of the mass. Outsiders, just like herself, as she struggles with her Padawan training despite being mighty in the Force, allegedly.

If she had known that she would end up stuck together with those men, she maybe would have chosen differently. Or maybe not?

Anyway, at the moment she felt comfortable at the warm campfire, listening to Text's excitement ramble, his familiar deep clone voice full of joyful passion, his eyes sparkling from sharp intelligence, playful- and watchfulness alike and – if she squinted – a glint of madness. No wonder actually.

Eo liked him. She let him talk her ears off, also because kind of positively surprised that such a young clone trooper reached out to her like that.

It warmed her heart, seeing Text revive like this after being all day not only a badass attentive medic, but also a quiet and highly skilled close combat fighter. She badly wants to know how a Gen 3 clone, not older than maybe 8 or 9 years, biologically 16 or 17, could have developed skills like that.

She laughed, as he started to wave with his data pad, already leaning in to explain even more dramatically. Without further thinking about it, she placed her hand on his shoulder, steadying him and herself in their shared laughter and tried to save him from himself. And maybe also a bit herself from him.

Looking into his mirthful eyes and then over the other watching pairs of almost similar looking amber-brown eyes – curious, incredulous, mischievous and amused – Commander Eo realised maybe for the first time, that she might have made a big mistake with her choice of the men.

She could already feel the attachment. The one thing she shouldn't have felt for them. She could be a brave, nice, caring and good Commander for them, but according to the Jedi's lessons she absolutely shouldn't feel what she felt now. And this wasn't even the first time that her heart hurt for those clones.

It wasn't fair, that this talkative clone-teenager looked almost as old as herself and even obviously enjoyed it, flirting with her, similarly like his more shy but mischievous brother Voice. And that one somehow managed to look big, but he was even younger than Text!

It wasn't fair that those intimidating Gen 1 clones, Forest and Source, were clone-biologically 22 years old, but looking 30 or more, just have seen real 11 years of life and most of that not even outside of Kamino. The rest of it basically from one death trap into the next.

It wasn't fair, that her still young Gen 2 Sergeant still emitted fear, when she would only turn into his direction, but then showed to her the stable and seasoned warrior, looking with his wide eyes straight at at some point over her face. She only knew that Sixoh had been thrown from Kamino directly into the Second Battle of Geonosis and then with the rest of Green Company into the dark void, serving on the Tranquility. Kamino and that was his whole life so far.

Padawan Eo knew Master Luminara Unduli and her fellow Padawan Barriss Offee. Whatever horrors Sixoh might have had to face, it couldn't have been them.

Text has calmed down and drew something on his datapad. Eo watched Forest tending the dying campfire. The seasoned clone's face neutral and his eyes on the last flames, the whole man quite a clone-untypical picture of deep thoughts, sitting barefoot in a deep squad like many of the wookies.

Heavy Gunner Voice got up, yawning and called it a night, startling poor skittish Sergeant Sixoh, as he patted on his shoulder from passing by behind him.

Source didn't look up from his datapad as the Sergeant next to him relaxed again with a sigh after Voice' sudden familiar gesture, but the ARC Trooper's facial features relaxed a bit and some of the face lines smoothened in the cold light of his datapad.

Then, without tilting his head or moving his face, he looked up, straight into Eo's eyes, catching her watching him.

The mikkian froze, as she was locked into the most direct and intense stare she received so far from a clone, or even generally. She blushed like a little girl. Force, nothing about this was fair.

She shook off her unsettlement, chuckled over her own reaction and held his glance with a smile. She was the Commander and she was in charge, no little girl at all! Eyes still locked, a hint of a smile played around Source' lips, so small that Eo wasn't sure if he even moved a face muscle.

The mikkian's tendrils coiled slightly. This felt like going into the absolutely wrong direction and sadly it's to her making it good again.

Flirting wasn't "forbidden", but before working together with clone troopers, all of the Jedi, together with the other nat-born GAR Admirals, Lieutenants and else, were basically reminded with cold Kaminoan words, that clones might look and behave like mature humans, but in the end they're trained war machines, the human nature carefully suppressed for their own wellbeing, meaning they had buried wishes and questions that shouldn't be stirred awake. Not a few Jedi fell their serenity out of their faces for a moment, Eo included. It felt like a nightmare to her.

Dank Farrik. This wasn't just awkward, this was the madness of war. And Eo was even more determined to become the best Commander her new clone trooper squad could have. They deserve as much life as she could provide them under her protection and she can't take that those five living souls, so bright and beautifully complex in the Force suffer, because of her mikkian- or whatever weak struggles, that keep her away from getting knighted.

She must give not less than her very best. She owes them.

The Commander nods at Source, standing up, trying to look tall and grounded. "Voice is right, let's get a bunch of sleep. Tomorrow we'll head out at 0900. Goodnight, troopers." The four remaining clones nodded back and did one of their weird cloned-voices choruses – "Good night, Sir".

She flashed a warm smile to them and turned away. Entering her tiny Commander tent, her heart felt heavy. She had to do her meditation before sleeping. Badly.

She had to sort herself properly, reminding herself that she's obligated to protect those brave men.

Also from herself.

🦉 Owl Squad Masterlist 💚

"The Source Code" beautiful readers that showed interest a loo00OOoong time ago 🤩🫶 @dumfanting @peggy7447

Taglist 🌟 dm me for joining or removing 🫶