fourthstay

Hunter goes into ‘fix it’ mode immediately. You have to assure him a few times that it looks worse than it is, but he just looks at you with a raised eyebrow, muttering “Sure” under his breath. He gets you to lay down while he applies some lotion to your back, noticing every hitch in your breath. “What is it?” he asks, slowing his hands. “It’s cold,” you reply, and he chuckles. “Put sunscreen on next time.” He did tell you initially, which you’d done. But you forgot to reapply, and that was your fault. You shift your head to the side, giving him a thumbs up. “Will do, Sergeant.” 

Crosshair mocks you a bit about it, tsking and shaking his head. “Really?” he jests as he helps you out of the sun. He pokes your sunburn hard enough for you to wince and mutter “Ow” and swat his hand away. But once you’re alone, he helps you shower and gently wash your body so as not to irritate your skin, and helps put aloe vera and moisturizer on you, especially your back and face. He makes comments about how red your skin is, not because he wants you to feel bad, but because it’s funny, and he finds it amusing when you get defensive about it. It’s a harmless tease, especially after a couple of days when the burn starts to disappear. 

Wrecker is surprisingly gentle as he helps you, his touch lighter than you’d expect, especially after how rough you’ve felt him be in the past... “It looks pretty bad,” he says, not to be mean, just as an observation. And he’s right, it looks really bad. He’s helping you into some new clothes when he asks, “Is there anything else we can do?” You shake your head, cupping his cheek and giving him a warm smile. “Just time,” you reply. He leans down and kisses you, his hands hovering over your hips so he doesn’t accidentally hurt you. He pulls away slightly, grinning widely. “That’s great news. We’ve got plenty of that.” 

Tech lectures you lovingly with your best interest in mind trying to help you for next time. But it feels like he’s listing everywhere you went wrong...because he is. “You should have gone out of the sun an hour ago and reapplied sunscreen, then—” He keeps going for way too long, but only because you don’t stop him. You just stand there with your cheeks stinging your eyes and your shoulders tender, giving him a slightly annoyed look. He notices and slows down, staring at you for a moment. “You know all of this already,” he says. It was rhetorical, like he was speaking to himself, but you look down at yourself, looking back up at him with a silent response: Obviously. “Then we should cool you down with a bath, and apply moisturizer. You should also drink some water.” He’s straightforward, not meaning to be insensitive, but he gets a tingling of anxiety when you’re not urgent enough for his liking. And he’s right, all of these things help, and he’s glad to see you feeling better. 

Echo is pissed. Not when he’s the one helping you soothe the soreness or discomfort, but because of the amount of times he hounded you to reapply sunscreen. “Echo, it’s fine. It’ll go away,” you assure him. He rolls his eyes, brushing his fingers over the redness of your skin. “I told you,” he says matter-of-factly, a slight raise to his eyebrows because, yeah, he did. He’s not mad at you, but he knows this could have been avoided, and he did try. Now he’s got you reapplying aloe vera every couple of hours, just to prove that listening to him helps. 

Jesse thinks it’s hilarious, and you have to stop him from imprinting swear words on your burned, raw skin with his finger. After you tell him to stop, his laughs turn to just a grin, and he nudges his head to a cabinet. “How long were you out there?” he teases, taking a few things from the cabinet. He answers his own question, “Too long.” He laughs again, and you kick his shin. “Sorry, sorry. I know it hurts.” He does a spinning motion with his finger, and you turn, your back facing him. He brushes a kiss over every spot before he puts aloe vera on it, and you relax as the cool gel soothes the stinging. “One last thing about it?” he asks. You shake your head. “Don’t you dare.” He chuckles, but shuts up, no more comments. 

Kix helps you as soon as he sees you. It’s like a sixth sense, knowing when you need him. And he’s super sweet, rubbing the back of your hand as you drink some water. He lets you complain about how much it hurts, and he soothes your dry skin with some medicine and moisturizer. “Thank you,” you say, and he kisses your forehead. “Anything for you. But just for next time, it’s advised that you apply sunscreen every two hours, but it’s better if you do it before then.” You lean up and kiss his lips, no point arguing with a medic, mumbling “Okay” against them, your body tired from the sun. 

Fives raises both his eyebrows in surprise, his mouth half open. “Don’t,” you warn, stripping off your clothes. “Did I say anything?” You shoot him a look and he raises his hands in surrender. “I didn’t say anything!” You point a finger at him. “Not a word.” You go into the bathroom and he hears the water running. He has no interest in pointing out the obvious, but there are several other things he’d like to say about your current state. He follows you into the bathroom, but you’re already in the shower. So he takes off his clothes until they’re a pile on the floor and joins you. You feel his arms snake around your waist, his chin resting on your shoulder. “You look great,” he says, rubbing his fingers against the soap on your skin. You sigh, but a smile turns your lips. “I told you not to say anything.” He smirks, and kisses your shoulder. “I couldn’t resist.” 

Rex jumps to help you, taking the products from your hands. “Here,” he offers, “let me.” You relax against the bed now that he’s taken over your current task. “Tell me the truth, does it look bad?” you ask. He catches your eyes, looking up from his hands. He scans over your body, then puts some gel onto his fingers. “You’re gorgeous,” he answers, and a smile warms your face. Then he adds, “But you’re the colour of the Coruscant guard.” You protest, “Hey!” But he smirks, knowing that he got you. “It’s not that bad, here.” He rubs the gel into your skin, an immediate improvement. “It’ll fade.” You laugh, and lean into his touch. “It better.” 

Cody asks “How did this happen?” as soon as he sees you. You kiss his cheek, then go into the bathroom, answering, “The sun, Cody.” He walks in after you, grabbing you, holding your shoulders steady. “Slow down, let me get a good look.” You let him, even though you know what to do, and how easy this is to fix. It just stings for the moment, and looks horrendous. “Ouch,” he says for you, brushing his fingers over your burnt shoulders. “Do you want to state the obvious, or help?” He ignores you, and looks behind you at the bath tub. “I’m running you a bath.” He lets go and sits on the edge of the tub, turning the tap and feeling for the water temperature. You shrug. “Help it is.” 

Wolffe is angry that there wasn’t anything he did that could have avoided this. You get out of the shower, and he’s standing there, holding your towel hostage. “Let me see you,” he says, not sweetly, but like a commander. “It’ll be fine once I put some aloe on it,” you dismiss, but let him spin you around, inspecting every inch of your body. “Hm,” he hums, his eyes darkening. “Or you could put some aloe on it?” you offer, and his eyes meet yours. He reached over the counter behind you, not breaking eye contact. “Turn around.” 

Fox looks you up and down, crossing his arms over his chest. At first, you think he’ll say nothing, as he begins to walk away from you. You scrunch your brow, almost shocked. Then he looks back over his shoulder and says, “This is what you get for wanting a tan.” He motions for you to follow him, and you do to find him getting you a glass of water. “Drink,” he commands, and disappears into a room. You take a few sips, then he returns with something he begins to put on your burn. “Stay still,” he says as you squirm from the cool moisturizer. Once he’s done, you peck a kiss to his cheek. The corner of his lip twitches as he says “Don’t let it happen again.” 

Mayday chuckles lowly and shakes his head as soon as he sees you, your skin red and tender. “C’mon,” he says, voice gentle as he steers you inside. “Let’s get you some water.” He presses a kiss to your hair, trying to avoid your face which is dry and peeling around your hairline. He holds a cool damp towel to your red skin, holding your gaze. “How’s that feel?” You nod, and he hands you a glass of water, urging you to drink it. “Be careful. I don’t want you hurt, not when we can avoid it, yeah?” You roll your eyes, but nod shortly after. “Yeah.” 

Gregor laughs hysterically when he sees you, at how ridiculous you look. You scold him to help you, and obediently, he does. But he still lets some giggles slip as he rubs aloe vera on your back, but keeps his lips zipped when he faces you to put it on your face. “You look ridiculous,” he tells you while holding back another laugh. “I’m glad this is amusing to you,” you mutter. “Hn, I like it when you’re imperfect.” And that gets you to smile, then frown when he giggles again. “Gregor!” 

Emerie panics at anything involving you, and she’s stumbling over her words, trying to get all the information from you. “It’s just a sunburn, Em,” you assure her. You end up taking her hand, forcing her to look at you. “Which can cause lots of long term problems if you continue to abuse your skin. Cancer, for example. And it exceeds your aging, damaging your skin,” she lists, scolding you. “Good thing I have you, then,” you say. She blushes and goes back to rubbing the gel over your sunburn. Quietly, she adds, “Please be more careful.”  

“Wolffe,” you said, standing in the entryway of your home, tilting your head at the staircase. “Do you think we should downsize?” 

Your youngest had just moved out, now with three grown children all out of the house, living on their own, exploring the galaxy for themselves, the house was starting to feel huge. When the kids had been little all the rooms were necessary, everyone had needed their own space. But now those three bedrooms were storage, and collecting dust. Your eldest’s bedroom had been transformed into an office a few years ago when they moved out. It had been quite handy when the younger two children had still been in school. Now all those empty rooms felt like useless space. 

“Huh?” he asked, pushing himself up off the couch with a groan. He joined you in the foyer, following your gaze. “What’s wrong with the stairs?” 

“No, the house, Wolffe. Do you think it’s too much house for the two of us to maintain?” 

He looked around at the pictures on the walls, the framed first day of school art projects, decorations that hadn’t been put away yet from your youngest’s graduation party, trinkets given by friends and family displayed on shelves. 

He shook his head. “We’ll manage.” 

“I just feel like it’s a lot of house. And with the kids all moved out…” 

You felt emotional talking about the empty house, how you’d spent the last two decades raising three beautiful children with the love of your life, and now what used to be five was now just the two of you. Your neighbours were getting older, but then, so were you. 

“I honestly thought they’d never leave,” you said, referencing the children. “Almost couldn’t with the last one.” 

“Yeah,” he huffed. “Sometimes we wished it a little too hard.” 

You laughed, supporting your cheek with your hand, crossing the other over your elbow. “Gosh, what are we going to do with all this free time?” 

He put his arm around your waist, pulling you in as you both admired the life you built together. “I think we’ll manage just fine in that department.” 

You batted his chest playfully, laughing into his shoulder. “And the groceries we’ll save on, the homework we no longer have to help with, staying up while they were out late... Guess that chapter’s over.” 

Wolffe averted his eyes, thinking intently as he fixed on the staircase railing. Yeah, the kids were gone, and that meant they didn’t need you for help. But also, your kids were out there, in the galaxy, figuring it out for themselves. And you just had to hope that you’d given them the right skills to support themselves, and given them the courage to call home for help if they ever needed it. 

Wolffe cleared his throat. “I’m going out.” 

“To where?” 

“Out.” 

He kissed the top of your head, then pulled his jacket on and was out the door. It happened so fast that it felt like you’d stepped on a dog’s tail, a knee jerk reaction. But you knew your husband, and he just needed a minute to himself. 

Standing alone by the front door of your home, it really hit you how lonely this house could be. It had been your home for over twenty years, but it was too quiet now. 

You sighed, then went to the living room and found your book, trying to give yourself a distraction from the overt quietness. 

Over an hour went by before Wolffe returned, shuffling inside and kicking off his boots. 

“Hi, honey,” you called, not looking up as you turned the page of your book. “Did you run errands too or just a walk?” 

“No, I’ll go out later for errands. But I did get you something.” 

“Great. What’s the alcohol percentage?” 

You heard rustling. “It’s not that.” He entered the room with a small canine in his arms. “I got you a puppy. Her mother was run over by a speeder.” 

You slammed your book closed. “Wolffe, did you run over a dog?!” 

He rolled his eyes. “I know with the kids moved out, the house is quiet. Maybe it’ll help to share the space.” 

The puppy was small and grey, squirming around in Wolffe’s arms. “Oh, she’s so cute.” 

He handed you the hound, letting you hold her tiny body. She reminded you of your children as babies, but with far more energy. 

“You got me a puppy?” 

“Yeah. Cute, right?” 

You smiled and held the hound to eye level. “As long as she doesn’t pee on my carpet.” 

“That’s the fun of having a dog,” he mused, a smile twitching his lips as he watched your entire face light up. 

You put the dog on the floor, watching her clumsily run off and explore her new environment, tipping over a flower pot in the process, dirt spilling onto the tile. 

“Well, so much for a clean house.” 

He put his arm around you, pressing a kiss to your temple. Then you remembered, and you scrunched your eyebrows together. 

“I thought you told the kids we couldn’t get a dog.” 

He shook his head. “No, I said I didn’t want to raise three children and a dog at the same time.” 

You chuckled, recalling that exact conversation from over ten years ago. It was funny how memories popped up, things you hadn’t thought about in years suddenly became relevant due to unplanned events. 

You returned his half-hug, looking up at him. “Can you just say that you didn’t run over a dog? Your answer was suspicious.” 

The corner of his lip twitched. “I love you.” 

“Wolffe!” you scolded. 

“I will neither confirm nor deny.” 

“Are you kidding me right now?” 

His face broke into a grin, and you swatted his chest. “I didn’t.” 

“Oh, you’re no better than the dog.” 

That got him, and he laughed. 

“Thank you, Wolffe.” 

He tucked a stray hair behind your ear. “I know it’s just us now, but it’s been just us before. We’ll manage just fine.” 

“Yeah? You’re gonna promise?” 

He tipped your chin up. “Absolutely.” 

He only got sappy like this when it was the two of you alone, and if you were honest, it had been a while since he’d really gotten into it. It was a form only you got to see, even after all these years, you were still his whole world. His world had just expanded one by one, but he constantly reminded you exactly how much he loved you. In little gestures, in affirmations, and secret gestures hidden from the eyes of your children. 

He leaned down and caught your lips in a kiss, and it felt like all this time hadn’t passed. He was exactly the man you fell in love with all those years ago. Now there was more time to remind you of it, and you smiled against his lips imagining it. 

You were drawn apart by the dog barking, and you looked over at where she was circling the kitchen table. You began a mental list of everything you would need to support the puppy, but when you met Wolffe’s eyes, you knew he had it handled, that there was nothing to worry about. 

“Yeah.” You smiled. “We’ll be just fine.” 

Wolffe doesn’t understand why he even tries with other people when he has you. No one will ever come close to how much he likes you, and it’s most obvious when he’s forced to socialize in a room full of people he merely tolerates. He’s constantly thinking about you, comparing others’ bleakness to your radiance. He’s a great husband because to him, you’re the only person who matters. You’re the only person’s opinion he cares about, the only call he’ll answer in situations where he really can’t pick up the phone, the only person he looks forward to. Not to say that he doesn’t have some bite to him, he absolutely does. But he’d never raise his voice at you, and hates when you argue or are upset with him; it eats away at him until he starts to feel physically sick. He can be a bit clueless at times, having no idea why you’re mad at him, but he’s always wanting you to talk to him, explain it to him even if to start he just takes a walk around the block to blow off some steam. He wants to understand you in ways he couldn’t care less about with other people—with anyone else, the concern wouldn’t even cross his mind. Even if you’re acting off due to stress, sleep deprivation, mood swings, or whatever it may be, he’ll notice, but you’re still his favourite. He’s the perfect mixture of slightly afraid of you and head over heels in love with you. 

Crosshair doesn’t hate everyone else, he just doesn’t like them as much as you. And part of that is due to how long it took for you to gain his trust, and the internal conflicts/obstacles he had to overcome to feel as safe and comfortable with you as he does now. He’s quick with dry insults, nitpicking everything about the people around him, analyzing them for flaws so he can have a reason to push them away, just kept away in his back pocket waiting for the right moment. But not you. With you, these imperfections are charming. But they don’t look nearly as good on other people. He claims that it’s annoying when people slip up, or pester him, and he hates people being in his space—but when you do it, he doesn’t even blink. Probably says something like “good to know you’re not perfect all the time.” The real reason he hates other people’s slip-ups or imperfections, but not yours, is simply that he loves you. Other people can get lost. And as much as he loves his solitude, he’d rather be alone with you, just in silence. In his head there’s a hierarchy of everyone he knows, and you sit at the very top. There’s some possessiveness, some pride in knowing that his favourite person in the galaxy is also his wife. He doesn’t expect anything from you, because the fact that you chose him is the greatest thing that ever happened to him. 

The type of asshole to steal your parking spot. He’ll claim it was “free space” and doesn’t care if you park there everyday, he has the right to park there if he wants. Especially if it’s technically a public parking spot, then he’ll absolutely do it because there’s no legal repercussion. 

He’s annoyed most of the time, and he’s got a killer resting bitch face. Working a public facing job, he’s pissed off a lot.

Fox lets himself get so wrapped up in his work that it makes him tense, and he brings all that energy home. On particularly hard days, he’ll just lay there completely still because moving his head feels “wrong”. 

He loves being right and winning arguments. If you really get into it, he’ll go as far as providing receipts to support his case. But in the end, he isn’t ever mad at you, he’s just passionate. 

He’s insistent that you have up to date identification at all times, and is always nagging you about bringing it with you when you leave the house. He also rides your ass about renewing identification like your driver’s license, passport, etc on time. If he knows the expiration date is coming up, he’ll continuously hassle you about it until it gets done. 

He’ll never let you be overcharged for anything, and he’ll argue with the salesperson. If you’re buying a house, he’s negotiating the price. A new speeder? He’ll argue with the person until you’re paying below market value. 

When he doesn’t know how far he can push you, he’ll try to find the line. But when clear boundaries are set, then he’s completely compliant to them. 

He’s bossy, always very straight forward with the way he tells you things. It sounds like he’s commanding you: “Get that” “Come here” “Hold this”. You’re always having to remind him that you’re his partner, not his employee. He takes the comment with a dismissive grunt, but you do notice a slight shift. 

Despite being bossy, he does care a lot. Most times when he’s “ordering” you to do something, it’s for your own health. Like reminding you to eat, to drink water, or of the list of things you said you’d do, and reminding you to be on time for appointments, etc. 

A deep sleeper. But he has a really hard time falling asleep, just staying up overthinking and running through his day feeling worried that something went wrong. Once he’s fallen asleep, he sleeps like the dead. Not even the fire alarm could wake him. 

He’s really intense, but the type of intensity shifts as your relationship becomes more serious. In the beginning, he’s trying to stay professional, but over time he becomes protective, and hyper-aware of how he is perceived now that you’re a major part of his life. He starts to wonder if people can notice this effect you have on him (they can). 

He’s got major jealousy issues. If someone so much as looks at you in a way that could be perceived as romantic/sexual, he’s yelling at them, asking them who the kriff they think they’re looking at, and doing anything he can to scare them off. 

When it’s just the two of you, he’s super needy. His hands are always on you, even as you go through your morning/night routine. Just hugging you, burying his face into you, or tracing shapes over your lower back, cupping the back of your neck while you brush your teeth, etc. 

He’ll initiate saying “I love you”, but he always waits a beat so you can say it back. Part of him needs you to say it back, needs to hear it for himself even though he already knows. Just hearing you say it soothes away his insecurities, and he’s immediately less tense. 

He loves to kiss you. When you get him alone, it’s constant. And when he’s in the mood, they start to get slower and deeper, his tongue travelling over your neck and shoulder, sometimes leaving hickeys in their wake. 

Rough sex like he’ll never get the chance again. With all the pent up stress, it’s a reliever. He’s desperate for you, needing to make a mess until he’s utterly exhausted. Likes when there’s a bit of a bite to it, like your nails digging into his back, or your heels pressing into him. 

He’ll whimper and moan into your ear, repeat your name when he gets close until he cums. The first time it happened, it caught you off guard just how vocal he is. He’ll also order you around, manhandling you at times, and likes when you push back and challenge him, making him be rougher. 

Prefers positions where he’s in control, or on top, but can switch between sub/dom, and will be petty and bratty even in bed. 

Sex is one of the only things that can actually get him to sleep at a regular time. He’s usually exhausted by the end, and after kissing you lazily for a bit, holding you in his arms, he’s out like a light. 

Hunter is “Grumpy x Sunshine”. He is completely absorbed by your energy, amazed at your ability to keep optimistic. Whether he explicitly realized it or not, he needed some of that in his life—he needed more of you. Sometimes it got on his nerves, every time he tried to shoot down a suggestion, and you opposed him. The two of you have had countless passionate arguments, pushing your personalities together instead of pulling you apart. And at times he hated it, but he understood you and your perspective. He let certain things go in the name of “optimism” instead of being immediately negative. And it did benefit him in the long run, but the best part was always your reaction; praising him, which he’d constantly respond with a grumble. In a way the two of you fit together, despite being opposites, always bringing different things to the table. 

Crosshair is “The No Feelings Hookup” (bonus points if it’s anonymous). One-night-stands are easy, they require limited emotional involvement, if any. The tricky part is getting him to come back for a second round. He prefers things where he can keep the other person at arms length, and entering a relationship is one of the hardest things for him to do because of it. He prefers when he doesn’t have to commit to anything (but holds a double-standard, he wants you to prove loyalty, yet he’s afraid to do the same). Loyalty means a lot to him, not just receiving it, but giving it out. He doesn’t just go around handing it out, he protects it and is extremely selective about who he chooses to bestow it upon. But if you do manage to get him to see you again, there’s still a long road ahead of you. He’ll continue to pretend like he doesn’t care, but just the simple aspect of him coming back is huge. And he’ll nitpick, trying to find something wrong with you so he can have an excuse to leave, to validate his internal worries that he doesn’t have to open up to someone new, and he can stay safe in the emotional bubble he surrounds himself in. 

Wrecker is “The Guy Next Door”. He was that guy you saw everyday, waving kindly and exchanging a few words, keeping it friendly. But over time those conversations grew longer, and he seemed to remember those little details you’d told him, even if he forgot the bigger picture. With every conversation you were laughing and smiling from ear to ear, never wanting those short interactions where you “happened” to be leaving both of your houses at the same time to end. You started finding excuses to invite him over; like moving your couch, building your bed frame, and fixing the leak in your bathroom shower. And every time you asked him for something, he lit up. Then finally, after countless almosts, he fumbled through asking you out on a date.  

Tech is “Everyone sees it, but you”. It seemed like every conversation between you two was somewhat suggestive, even over comms. And everyone around you seemed to notice the tension every time you were even close to him. But naturally, he didn’t pick up on any of it. Eventually all the small things started to amount, and he continued to dismiss them. But one of his brothers confronted him about it, and he admitted that he did like being around you, and missed you when you weren’t there. He could remember direct quotes from too long ago to still be “just friends”. But said out loud all together, it still took his brother saying “You love them” for it to all click into place, and he realized they were right. He didn’t wait a moment longer to tell you. 

Echo is “The Bodyguard”. As a major acts of service guy, it only made sense. His one job was to protect you, but he wasn’t so good at keeping his distance. He knew your schedules, your job, everyone you knew, etc. He became so ingrained in your life, even for the short time he was hired to do his job. And he noticed things, too. Noticed if you were dreading going somewhere, or if you were anxious about your job, even about scheduling choices. He was there for you, not intending to be this romantic knight in shining armor, but genuinely trying to take your worries away and help you. But in doing this, the two of you relied on each other, becoming so ingrained in the routines of your lives. And when his job was done, it didn’t feel right for either of you to just leave it at “goodbye”, and you both wanted more. 

Jesse is “Second Chance”. The first time you dated, neither of you were quite ready for it. You were younger then, and less experienced, didn’t really know what you wanted yet, or what life had in store for you. But since then, you’d both grown as people, changing for the better. You’d reflected on all those useless fights, knew where the trigger points were, and worked to be better. Now, the second time around, it’s almost like a do-over with how much each of you has changed, like you’re new people. But the good parts, the parts you missed, are still the same. You didn’t expect yourself to give him a second chance, “once was enough” you had decided after the break-up. But seeing him again changed that single-track mindset, and he won you over, the same as he had the first time, with that smile and those cheesy one-liners that made you giggle and roll your eyes. This time you were prepared. It wasn’t casual dating, it was serious, and you both wanted it to be the last first date you ever went on. 

Fives is “Friends with Benefits”. He was your friend, not your best friend, but your friend. It’s why you felt comfortable entering the arrangement in the first place. The whole intention was to fulfill each other’s needs, having a person to fall back on when you didn’t feel like picking a stranger from the bar. But that was exactly your undoing. You started to rely on each other, stopped thinking about other people as an option, thinking you only needed each other. And once that kind of thinking started, it was impossible to stop, or alter them to be the way they were in the beginning. It stopped being about the sex, and more about the person. That’s when he knew he was completely screwed, and he started to fall in love with you. 

Rex is “Secret Dating”. He takes his job very seriously, and he doesn’t want anything to compromise it in any way, especially because being together could potentially put you in danger. And the logical part of his brain is telling him this is a bad idea, and to let you down easy before anything even begins. Yet, he can’t. He falls for you hard, and is curious. It’s all new and he wants to experience it, but he’s scared of it being public, and you understand. So you agree to keep it a secret, allowing a selective few in on it. The guilt tears at him, but he knows it’s what’s best, even if he wishes it were different. But with you, it’s more than just physical, you’re his companion, he admires you, and you connect to the deepest parts of himself. So while it’s a secret, it only adds to the passion. 

Cody is “Forced Proximity”. He didn’t think about wanting a relationship, and hadn't ever expected it for himself. Not until he was forced together with you, alone. He was stiff at first, not thinking much of you. But as you worked together to get yourselves out of the stuck situation at hand, he noticed your strengths, started to admire you. He had noticed these things about you before, but not like this. Then he couldn’t get you out of his head, was overthinking everything you’d said to him, every action you’d done. And being the confident, caring person he was, he tried not to make anything of it. But you noticed the shift, how he started to spend more time with you, and slightly, his demeanor had shifted, as if reserved for you. 

Wolffe is “I hate everyone but my wife”. He’s stern with everyone, keeping the mask up at all times. He tolerates others, but loves you. Being with you is the only time anyone will see glimpses of his soft side. He would never let you apologize for anything, he’s quick with it, backtracking and fixing his mistake once he realizes it. Everyone else is just background noise, but you…you’re everything, the only thing that truly matters to him. He defends you in situations you’re not even aware of, behind your back and right to your face. And in the beginning it might have taken him a while to open up, but once you broke through to the vulnerable, real him, he locked you down with that ring. He couldn’t ever imagine letting you go once you entered his life. 

Fox is “Rivals to Lovers”. He never truly hated you, but he sure made it look like he did. Rude, antagonizing at times, and with a persistence that clashed with yours. His competitiveness came with the sole motivation to defeat you. He didn’t even care if he won, but with you two constantly butting heads, and the constant mocking banter, he definitely put everything into it. But over time, he began to loosen his grip on the rivalry, and loved the look on your face when you finally won—though he’d never admit it to you, he’ll take that information to his grave. 

Mayday is “age gap romance”. This man is gentle, patient, and he’s got his shit together. He makes sure there’s little to nothing you have to worry about, and he’s constantly soothing your fears. When your relationship went serious, and became official, he was hesitant. But you quickly assured him of your stability and commitment in the relationship, and he was indefinitely encouraging. When comparing experience, he was patient with teaching you, giving gentle directions, and being ever so much a gentleman. Dinners, passionate evenings (but early bed), lazy mornings, he was slow and steady. With the occasional difference in maturity and cultural touchstones, there was nothing to complain about, especially once you got on the same page about priorities. 

Gregor is “The Marriage Pact”. When you first began your friendship with Gregor, you’d both agreed that if you were both single by the time you turned thirty, that you’d marry each other. It was a solid plan, you both went out into the world trying your hand at the dating world. But every time he got a new significant other, your heart sank. None of them stuck, and the darkest part of yourself was glad, because secretly you wanted to make it to thirty and single. What you didn’t know was he was thinking the exact same thing about your relationships. Sure, he liked them all well enough, but anytime one of them became a little too serious an anxious feeling thundered through him as he considered the thought that you might actually marry one of them. You went in circles around each other for years, both not keeping around significant others for the same purpose of getting to that marriage pact, though the fact was not known to each other. But you didn’t make it to thirty, you both broke from the tension, not bearing to see the other with someone else, and that wedding happened earlier than originally planned. 

Emerie is “Unrequited Love” (secretly requited). She was pining after you for years. Always at your doorstep the moment you even started asking her for help. She did everything you asked, if you needed her, there she was. It became so automatic for her, answering your calls at all hours, no matter what you needed. Be it to combat loneliness or questions about your recent medical exam, she was there for you. She was your girlfriend without the “rewards”. And for a while, she didn’t even care. Any part of knowing you was better than none. She yearned, and pined, and wanted you to know more than anything, but was so afraid of ruining the good thing you had going. And the worst part, she didn’t think you reciprocated her feelings at all, and that crushed her. Until one day, you called her over and confessed your feelings, leaving her shocked and overwhelmed with relief.  She finally got what she’d been wanting since meeting you—a chance to love you, and for you to love her back. 

Has a hard time with serious sex. He likes to smile, and laugh, and have fun with it. To him, sex is fun and fluid; it’s meant for pleasure and it’s meant to be fun 

Doesn’t really do petnames, but he likes the intimacy of first names. When he uses petnames they’re usually compliment based “gorgeous” “beautiful” or kinda formal like “my dear” or “love” 

Pretty experienced, especially for someone who—by the nature of being a Jedi—doesn’t settle down. He likes casual fun, and over the years those numbers added up (more than you’d guess but less than you’d assume) 

Fluctuates between service sub/soft dom roles depending on what the moment calls for, though is more often the latter 

Is extremely confident in every aspect. If it’s something new? You’ll never know 

His hands on you are usually very light, skirting over your skin, nearly nonexistant. He doesn’t want to hurt you, and knows that the sensations can sometimes become too much, or overwhelming, so he keeps it light. But when he’s close? That’s when you’re reminded of his strength, and he squeezes some part of your body as he cums 

Prefers to go slow, and makes sure you’re completely present in the moment, praising and checking in with you before he does something “may I?” 

Has a high stamina, and can go multiple rounds. But he’s more focused on you, and what you want to do rather than whether or not he can go another round 

Isn’t completely silent with his noises, but not loud. They’re shallow moans, or a suppressed groan, and if you want him louder you’ll have to get creative. When he does, it’s a communication thing, he’s wordlessly telling you how good it is, and praising whatever you’re doing to him 

Wants you to have fun during sex, and tries to make you smile or laugh with small quips. It’s a big turn on when he feels you smile against his lips, or stop kissing him to smile/laugh 

He likes when you hold onto the tendrils coming out of his head to keep him close, or pull him in. They’re sensitive, and likes when you tease him why stroking them or slowly wrapping your hand around one, pumping it 

For genitalia, this is the fic I have with my best description for what’s happening there 

His aftercare is soft, taking care of you by cleaning you up, making sure it’s all taken care of for you. He’ll flutter kisses over your body, holding you with gentle skin-to-skin contact

Who is a listener more than a talker. He loves listening to your day, and things that are bothering you. Sometimes he’ll connect the dots on things you haven’t figured out yet, and he’ll pose questions that lead to you coming to the conclusion instead of him just flat out telling you. He lets you figure it out on your own, but he directs you in the right direction 

He likes hearing your thoughts and opinions, especially the ones that conflict with his own. It’s an interesting exercise for him, and he’s definitely wanting to understand the reasons that back up your beliefs. He understands himself completely, meaning there’s only a rare chance that you’ll change his mind, but the chances aren’t zero 

He’s very self-aware, deliberate with each of his actions, and has insane self-restraint. He can live without certain things if you are uncomfortable with them

Is more of a casual dater. He doesn’t enter committed relationships due to his strong dedication to the Jedi Order. Though in his romantic personal life, he prefers to have a casual relationship on the basis of understanding and friendship. It’s there for fun and pleasure, but under the understanding that it is casual and will never amount to anything larger (like marriage) 

Has a strong thing for boundaries. He’s very straightforward about establishing boundaries off the bat, not wanting to confuse you or lead to unnecessary conflicts later on. If you’ve established a boundary with him, he’ll never cross it, steering clear of it for your comfort. Especially on establishing what the nature of your relationship is, he wants to be very clear about that 

One of his boundaries is that there’s things about his career that he can’t disclose, and he needs you to be okay that there are parts of himself that he can’t share with you 

Loves cheesy jokes (knowing that they’re cheesy) and is always trying to make you laugh. The dumber the joke the better, he internally rates them based on how much you laughed 

Body positivity king! He doesn’t have a physical preference, thinks a person is more about who they are within than their appearance

Is always smiling and upbeat, and he wouldn’t have it any other way. Lots about his role in the Jedi Order is quite serious, and he needs the balance 

Likes that not all of your time together is sexual, and enjoys discovering your interests. Is on the adventurous side, and if he trusts you, will allow you to blindly bring him to anything

Kit sat upright in bed, a datapad in hand as he read through his own military files he was meant to read earlier but didn’t have the time for, as well as the news and other current events that popped up. He split his attention between you and the datapad, multitasking as he finished up the last of his work. 

You were in the en suite refresher, cleaning up after your long day at work. The door was wide open, allowing you to talk to him while you unwinded and got ready for bed. 

“I feel rushed at work with how fast the war is progressing,” you said, removing your makeup with a face cloth, leaning over your sink and staring in the mirror. 

“In some ways that’s a good thing,” he replied. 

“Maybe, but doesn’t that complicate things for you? The Republic can’t possibly keep on top of every battle. I mean, there are only so many troopers at your disposal.” 

“My dear, you have just described my job.” 

You rolled your eyes, undoing your hair from its tight formal style. “I write article after article, thinking maybe I’ll write something to restore pride, give people something to feel good about.” You poke your head out the door. “But you know who gets those stories? Fucking Jessika. She’s working for that promotion, I know she is. And I get stuck having to report on delayed supply shipments and blockades. Which, as interesting as we all know those to be, doesn’t help the general atmosphere.” 

He chuckled to himself. “We’ve had wins, love. You just don’t happen to be the one writing about them.” 

You put your finger up, excitement rippling through you. “Ah-ha! See, that’s what I thought, too. But this week I found a bit of hope to write about.” 

“Oh? What have you been up to since I’ve been gone?” he asked. 

You pretended to play off your excitement. “Not as much as I’d like. Some office drama, I got a new supervisor. She’s way better than the last one. And they replaced the caf machine on our floor, finally.” 

“A delicacy,” he mused. “For a current events journalist, there’s something you're missing.” 

“Yeah?” You leaned against the doorframe. “I wrote an article about you,” you revealed. 

“You did?” A wide grin splitting his face. “What did you write about me?” 

“The battle on Mon Cala between the Mon Calamari and the Quarren, with the influence of the Separatists. I had to listen to radios to keep up to date with everything as it was coming through. The failed negotiation, Separatist reinforcements, the Gungan attack, all of it. Published the article the day you got back.” 

“Then you also wrote about Skywalker and Prince Lee-Char?” 

“Yeah, but that’s a technicality. I took the article because I could keep active tabs on you, and it’s not everyday that I get that opportunity.” You winked. “I left out the part where I got you in bed.” 

He laughed, outright and warmly. A fluttering feeling grew in your chest, and you giggled. 

“Do you mind if I read it?” he requested. 

“Mhm, that’s why I’m telling you about it.” 

You went back into the bathroom, squeezing toothpaste onto your toothbrush. 

“It also helped that the result of the battle was a victory, and a big win for the Republic from Senator Tills and Senator Amidala,” you called out into the bedroom. “As well as the Jedi and everyone who fought.” 

He pulled up your published article on his datapad, reading through your work. “You are well spoken, when you want to be. The detail in this is amazing.” 

“Word travels fast.” 

“You wrote with positivity, I’m glad to provide some hope for the future.” 

You brushed your teeth then spit in the sink, rinsing the remains down the drain. “Isn’t that what you’re always saying? We all need a little bit of light in these dark, trying times.” 

“I’m glad you listen.” 

“I always listen to you.” There was a pause. “Even when I’m listening through a radio, worried about you.” 

You exited the bathroom, stripping off your pants and blouse as you stumbled towards your closet, leaving a trail of clothes as you went. 

“Tell me more.” 

“You want to hear about the new caf machine at the office?” you asked in disbelief. 

“I like hearing about the mundane things in your life, it’s relaxing to take my mind off of the greater powers at play.” 

You shrugged. “Okay, well, it’s cheap and makes shitty caf. The company only bought it because enough people complained about the old one being broken. But now this one has those light caf pods, you know the ones that when you make a cup, it mostly tastes like water.” You paused, shaking your head. “You don’t drink caf, forget that last part, you have no idea what I’m talking about.” 

“No, but it seems like a large issue for you.” 

You snapped your fingers, then pointed at him. “It is. And it’s not nearly strong enough. So if I want better tasting caf, or at the very least for it to have some with actual caffeine in it, then I have to go buy my own pods for the machine. On my lunch break today I looked up how much they cost on the holonet, and of course, they’re expensive.” 

You stood looking for your pajamas, wearing nothing but a mismatched bra and underwear set, both made for comfort over beauty. He was smiling, watching you with such admiration. 

“What? Did I say something funny?” 

“No, it’s not that.” He shook his head lightly. “You’re very passionate about the caf.” 

“How am I supposed to write about the state of the galaxy without any caf?” 

“Perhaps there’s your next article,” he joked. “I like when you speak passionately, it shows how much you care, even about the little things.” 

You rolled your eyes. “You’re being all philosophical while I’m complaining about a useless problem.” 

“My apologies.” 

You mirrored his smile. “No, I like it.” 

You found your pajamas and slipped into them, then climbed into bed beside him. 

“You smell like salt water,” you said, digging your nose into his bicep as you inhaled him. 

He dropped his voice to a whisper, leaning in where you could hear him. “Would you like to guess where I’ve been?” 

You played along. “Hm, maybe Mon Cala’s ocean?” 

He laughed again, putting his datapad down and directing all his attention to you. 

“I’m sorry caf pods are expensive.” 

“They’re actually cheaper than buying three cups of caf a day from the café and bakery three floors down from the office…which I’ve been doing for the past few months.” 

“It seems there’s your solution.” 

You groaned, covering your face with your hands. “Yeah, but I hate habit breaking.” 

He kissed your temple, taking your hands away from your face. “You’ll do fine, I know it.” 

You giggled. “Mm, I love your confidence in me.” 

“Well, if you don’t, I’m sure you’ll be telling me all about it.” 

You smiled, knowing he was right. “Yeah.” 

He cupped your jaw and kissed you sweetly, his arms wrapping around your waist as he pulled you half onto his lap. 

“Also,” you whispered against his lips, “I missed you.” 

“I missed your voice, and our talks.” 

“Really? Because I have more to say.” 

You shifted onto your side of the bed, propping yourself up with your elbow. He turned his lamp off, then laid on his back, looking up at you as you continued to describe your day, your work struggles, and other aspects of your life until you were too tired to keep your sentences straight. 

He pulled you down onto the pillow, tucking you in, his touch so soft it lulled you to sleep. The last thing you remembered was a kiss to your forehead, and his smile. 

Hunter fidgetted with his tie, pulling and tugging at the collar. You could feel his eyes roll as he silently complained about Phee’s plan, the one he very loudly argued against back on the ship. 

After the Empire had flooded through Pabu, the island was in need of supplies, resources, and they needed credits to afford the repairs. So, Phee had put together a grand plan. You and Hunter would attend this auction undercover as a rich couple, looking to purchase rare art for your vacation home. Phee would work as a server, and Tech would pilot her ship for when they’d need a quick pick up. This plan only needed the four of you to work, the rest of the Bad Batch stayed on Pabu to help the community. 

It wasn’t that Phee’s plan was bad, you just weren’t sure if Hunter and you were the most believable couple. You’d mentioned to Phee that she and Tech would be the better option, seeing as they were actually a couple. But she had insisted, and you got the sense that she knew something that you didn’t. 

“Stop messing with your tie,” you whispered through clenched teeth, forcing a smile for any rich prick that looked your way. 

“It’s tight,” Hunter replied. 

You fixed where he had loosened his tie, smoothing your hands down his shirt and tucking the end of it back into his blazer. “It’s supposed to be.” 

He huffed a dry chuckle. “You do this often?” 

“Oh, I don’t do ties.” You gestured to your outfit, a dress shirt, blazer, tailored trousers, matching shoes, and the gold chain of your pocket watch that strung from your blazer button to an inside pocket. 

Every part of your appearance had a place, and you’d spent what Hunter described as “too much time” making yourself presentable for high society. In your opinion, he hadn’t spent enough time, his patience had worn thin for finicking with his suit. But he did look good. He pulled off the rugged beauty—that paired with his brooding—made him stoic. Then again, he was the personification of a five o’clock shadow. 

Phee loved to tell stories, and apparently the Bad Batch had done something similar to this mission once, but it hadn’t ended as well as they had hoped. Something about how Phee’s droid, MEL-222, was to blame for their fast exit. At least, that was the part that Hunter had added, Tech agreed with him. 

“Oh, great,” Hunter mumbled as an elderly couple joined you in observing a painting. 

It was large, and its use of red and light colours evoked some sort of romantic and passionate emotions, paired with the contrast of soft to harsh brush strokes. You hadn’t been paying much attention to the art, and neither had Hunter. 

“It’s quite the piece,” the old man said, gesturing to the painting—in case they didn’t understand what he could be talking about. 

“I agree, a conversation piece,” you added, side eyeing Hunter for help. 

He shrugged, he didn’t know anything about art. 

“You two on the look out tonight?” the old woman asked. “We have a lovely granddaughter I could introduce you to, she’s right over there.” 

She pointed somewhere behind you, but you didn’t follow her direction. Honestly, you didn’t care who her granddaughter was, or what she looked like. 

You forced a smile, trying to outweigh Hunter’s scowl. “I’m sure she’s lovely.” 

“She is marvelous. A business woman. Organizes our finances for these kinds of events. Yes, she’s lovely.” 

The woman began to wave her hand, trying to get their granddaughter’s attention from across the room. A panic spread through your body, you really didn’t have time for this. 

“I’m sure she’s lovely,” Hunter interrupted the moment, sliding a hand against the small of your back, “but my husband and I aren’t interested.” 

You looked at him, and he gave you a reassuring nod, telling you to play along. His grip on you was tight, the look he snapped at the old couple was fiery hot—a look that could kill. 

The old woman stuttered, “Oh, I didn’t realize…” 

You gave her a passive aggressive smile. “Yes, the only thing we’re on the look out for is art. Our vacation home is an eyesore without it.” 

Hunter pulled you a little protectively away from the elderly couple, finding a less popular piece of art and pretending to observe it. 

“Thanks,” you said. 

He kept his hand on your waist, really making you two look like an item. “We should lean into the story.” 

“Oh yeah?” You slid a hand on his shoulder, bringing your lips to his ear. “How much?” 

He cleared his throat, turning his head so your noses almost touched. “Do you trust me?” 

You hesitated, searching his eyes for any misdirect. “Is this a trick question?” 

He held a stern look as he stared at you, his brows pulled slightly together and the hard lines of his face tightened. 

“Yeah, I trust you.” 

He accepted your answer, looking down at the sculpture in thr glass case. “What even is that?” 

“That, my dear husband, is a piece of junk that rich assholes like this pay people like me to collect.” 

“You don’t know what it is?” 

“Not one clue.” 

You couldn’t really tell what it was supposed to be, a lump built of stone of some kind. It could have easily been aged clay, Phee probably could have told you more about it, if she hadn’t insisted on being a server. You did admit, pretending to be Hunter’s husband wasn’t bad, maybe Phee was onto something in her own, strange way of going about it. 

Their comlink beeped and Hunter grabbed it, hiding it between your bodies as a shield. 

“I found our treasure,” Phee said in a sing-song voice. 

“Where is it?” Hunter asked. 

“Back hallway, second door on the left from the end. Black box with a gold sticker.” 

You looked around, the room was packed with collectors alike. The back hallway was on your left, empty and dimly lit. 

“Time is of the essence, they’re supposed to start the auction soon. We need to split before then.” 

“On it.” 

He put his comlink back in his pocket, and you grabbed his hand. 

“You know, it’s been a while since I left a function to instead find a back room with a...” You didn’t finish the sentence, leaving out a label. 

With a stranger? No, you knew Hunter quite well. With a friend? A little more than that. With a lover? A little less, you were missing a few of the steps. 

You pulled him away from the crowded art collection and into the dimly lit hallway, following Phee’s directions. 

“Here,” Hunter said. 

He unlocked the door, entering an office scattered with gold and shining sculptures. There was a single large black box sitting on the desk, a golden sticker marking the side. 

You brushed some dust off the top of the box. “Well, that was easy.” 

“No, it’s not,” he replied. 

“What do you mean?” 

He was silent for a moment, listening to something your ears couldn’t pick up on. “Someone’s coming.” 

“Of course someone’s coming,” you mumbled sarcastically. 

“Three people.” 

You leaned against the desk. “Okay, well, what do we do? We can’t exactly waltz out of here with the box, they’ll see it.” 

“We...” He gripped the edge of the desk, putting an arm on either side of your hips. “You said you trust me.” 

“I did say that.” 

His eyes darkened as he weighed your limited options. “You’re going to have to trust me again.” 

“Huh?” 

The footsteps grew louder, you could hear them now, and Hunter held your gaze for a moment. He searched your eyes for rejection, for that moment when one of you would pull away. But the footsteps were almost on you, and Hunter’s mouth was only centimeters from yours. 

“Hunter...” You wrapped an arm around his neck, the other flush against his chest, nodding. 

He cursed, the dark dilation of his pupils hungry, then he grabbed your jaw and crashed your mouths into each other. It was like a cage flung open, bottled up feelings pouring out. You tangled your fingers in his hair, bringing him down harder, wanting him closer. A groan loosened from his throat, lost in the way his tongue found yours in the messy, slow kiss. 

Then the door opened with a loud noise, and the host of the event stopped dead in his tracks as he tried to lead the elderly couple from earlier into the office. 

Hunter broke the kiss first with everything he had in him, meeting your eyes with heavy lids. You released your hold on him, wanting more than anything else right now than to kiss him again. 

“This...” the host began. 

“Sorry,” you said, wiping your bottom lip, “the door was—” 

Hunter added, “We didn’t—” 

“Clients,” the owner told them, avoiding any and all eye contact, focusing on a spot on the ceiling. “If you could...” 

“Sorry,” you apologized again, picking up the box and gripping it in your arms. 

Package secure. 

You and Hunter left the room, both the old couple and the owner sighing in relief once you were gone. They closed the door behind them, going on with their business.

You grinned. 

“Tech,” Hunter said into his comlink, “we need that pick up. And Phee, meet us out the back door.” 

“Aye, aye,” Phee replied. 

“On it,” Tech confirmed. 

You followed the hallway until it forked with the servants’ hallway, and you turned there, following it down and out the exit. The bright light of early morning stung your eyes. You were standing on a landing platform, only a couple of smaller designer speeders were neatly tucked to the side. 

“You played the part well,” Hunter complimented. 

You met his eyes. “It wasn’t all pretend.” 

“Yeah?” He was quiet for a moment, a smile ghosting his lips. “Me too.” 

He began to lean into you, but the whirring sounds of an engine descended upon you, and Tech had arrived with your ride. Phee ran out the exit behind you, embarking onto the ship by the open hatch door, and waving for you both to follow. 

“Come on, love birds!” 

Hunter tore his eyes from yours, and you both rushed onto Phee’s ship after her. Safely on board, you dropped the box of treasures for Phee to pawn off on the bench, and the four of you wisped away into the stars before anyone at the auction noticed what had happened. 

You tilted his chin, allowing you better access to his neck, sucking a kiss to one of his tendrils draping over his shoulder. He let a moan loose, and you smirked against his skin.

“Sounds like you did, too.” 

“Well,” he began, a soft chuckle following, “I would be lying if I said I hadn’t longed for this.” 

You tumbled onto the couch, Kit pulling you onto his lap, letting you straddle his hips. You could feel his bulge press against your inner thigh, and you grinded against him, making more suppressed sounds rumble in his chest. 

He had this tired look written across his face, one he was comfortable enough for you to see. But even with that, he was still Kit, and some radiance of positivity found him in his struggle. 

“Hey,” you whispered, skirting your fingers over the angular structure of his face. “What is it?” 

He sighed. “The progression of the war. But it is nothing you have to worry about, love.” 

“Oh, I’m not worried about the war.” You trailed your hands down his chest, putting pressure over his hardening erection. “But you, that’s another story. I want to relieve some of that stress.” 

“I am here now, with you. Present.” 

You got off his lap, kneeling on the floor before him. His eyes widened slightly as he realized what was happening, then he grinned, and helped you tug off his clothes until he was sitting naked before you. The definition of his muscles and waist were illuminated by the shadows of the room, dancing across his green skin. 

The first time the two of you had been intimate, you hadn’t known how to navigate his anatomy. But now, after so long you knew him like you knew yourself, and had the confidence that went along with that knowledge. 

“It’s just us,” you reminded him, treading your fingers together. “Let me make you feel good.” 

“You always do.” 

You held your other hand up to his mouth, and he spit in your palm. Then you wrapped your hand around his cock, feeling him get harder as the lubricant made your pumps glide with a firm pressure. 

You gave some attention to his tip, sliding your thumb over the sensitive point, earning a shiver that rolled through his body. You sucked open mouthed kisses at the base of his shaft, then you stroked your hand down to his base, bringing it up again agonizingly slow.

His free hand twitched beside you, raising slightly and gripping your shoulder. 

“Teasing tonight?” he questioned, his chest heaving with each breath. 

You looked up at him through your lashes, stopping your movements and shaking your head slightly. “Do you want me to stop?” 

“No. That feels good.” 

He tipped his head back, tightening his grip on your hand to avoid holding your head, or digging his fingers in your hair to control the pace. He dropped his other hand from your shoulder, and you continued. 

You peeled back the layer of tentacles, revealing his slightly leaner shaft, coated in an invisible slick. He tried to rock his hips to make your hand move, but you released your other hand from his and pinned his hips to the couch. 

“That’s where you need me?” 

He moaned, the only confirmation you needed. But you didn’t touch his shaft, let the need for it work him up, send him into a whimpering mess. 

You massaged the inside of his tentacle, watching his hands grip the edge of the couch. They wrapped around your fingers, searching for anything to latch onto in the emptiness of your body, to dig into something, probing for that release. 

“You want that kind of evening, huh?” he said, a cheeky smile on his lips. 

You stroked along the edges, finding the sweet spot, watching his eyes squeeze shut. 

“Depends on if you have the stamina for it,” you replied. “If not—”

“Don’t even consider it.” 

You let one of his tentacles into your mouth, swirling your tongue along it, letting it pulse in and out of your pursed lips, giving them the friction they craved. 

“Please,” he begged. 

You pulled back, the warmth from your mouth no longer on him. “For what, Kit?” 

He moaned when you said his name, his hand grabbing his cock, giving it a long stroke. “You’re mischievous.” 

“Mm, and you won’t tell me to suck you off.” 

You knocked his hand away from himself, looking up at him with a grin, then fondled his tentacles, keeping your mouth dangerously close, but never letting them touch. 

“I’m close,” he moaned, a whimper escaping his lips. 

“I want you to come for me, Kit,” you said, your warm breath hitting his shaft. 

Your name caught in his throat, and you took his hand again, letting him squeeze it as he came, his milky white release dripping down his shaft. 

“You did good,” you soothed, pressing a kiss to his thigh. 

You licked up the mess, careful with his sensitive skin. His tentacles closed back up, hiding the leaner shaft behind their layer. You stood up off the floor, and joined him on the couch, leaning into his tired arms.

You grabbed his jaw and kissed him softly, your tongue tracing his bottom lip before slipping in. He groaned into your mouth, and his smile returned, reflecting onto your own lips. 

“I didn’t know you could come like that,” you whispered against his lips, pressing your foreheads together. 

He chuckled. “Ah, but you suspected as much.” 

You couldn’t help yourself from laughing. “You enjoyed every second of it.” 

You kissed you once more, gently pressing your lips together. “I did.” 

You entered your apartment with the familiar click of your key inserting into the wall panel, the green light flashed indicating that it unlocked, and the door slid open. You breathed in the familiar feeling of home, but there was something else—someone else. 

“Hello,” he said, looking up from the datapad that he’d been reading on. 

“Kit,” you breathed, surprise sending your eyebrows shooting up. 

Jedi Master Kit Fisto had been in the Outer Rim for the last couple of weeks. He had told you it was going to be longer, yet here he was. You stood and stared at him, mouth twitching as you tried to form words, a smile turning your lips. 

You continued, “I thought…” 

“I know. We finished our mission early.” 

“Yeah, by a whole week.” 

A grin split his face, and he rounded the counter, dropping his datapad on a side table, and catching you in a tight embrace. 

“Happy to see me, my dear?” he asked, a lightness to his tone. 

You sighed into him. “Very.” 

He pressed a kiss to your cheek, trailing his lips down your neck and shoulder, slipping your work bag from you along with your jacket. 

“You seem excited,” you murmured. 

He broke away for a moment to hang your things on the coat rack by the door, then returned with his signature grin, his hands framing your shoulders. 

“I am always excited to see you,” he replied. 

He caught you in an open mouthed kiss, his smooth tongue painting yours with all the grace of a well disciplined Jedi Master. You, however, did not have that kind of self control, and melted into his touch. 

“That’s not what I meant,” you mumbled against his lips. 

“Care to show me what you did mean?” 

“You aren’t going to butter me up first?” you teased. 

You were caught off guard by the sudden movement as he lifted you onto the counter by your thighs. You were a big girl, it was probably the first thing people noticed about you. Sometimes it was bothersome. But to Kit, it was his favourite thing about you—other than your sparking personality. He loved every part of you, those parts included. Being lifted onto counters wasn’t something you were familiar with, not from any of your past encounters. With Kit, it all seemed so natural. 

“Be careful what you wish for, Gorgeous.” 

You stared into the voids of his eyes, his hands travelling down the wide curves of your body to your hips where he squeezed you lightly before disappearing under your waistband. You gasped when his fingers found your pussy, growing wetter the longer he drew it out. 

“Mm, I missed you,” you moaned when his mouth found yours again. 

“It has been long enough.” 

You tried to grind against his palm, but he stopped you, pulling your pants off and tugging at the bottom of your shirt. 

“I wish to see all of you,” he insisted. 

Hesitantly, you helped him remove your clothing. He took in the sigh of you, his smile growing like he’d won the lottery. 

“You truly are gorgeous.” 

Pink heated your cheeks. He really looked like he meant every word he said as he devoured you with his eyes. He took one of your breasts in his hand, kneading it, and put the other to his mouth, his teeth grazing your nipple as he kissed your skin. You held his head against you by grabbing his tendrils, stroking them in a way that sent a groan rumbling through his chest. 

You threw your head back, bracing your hand on the counter behind you to keep yourself upright. “Kit, I need you.” 

He sucked at the underside of your breast, leaving behind dark marks in appreciation. 

“Kit,” you begged again, “please.” 

He took his mouth off your breasts, kissing your mouth in a way you would be thinking about for weeks. 

“Can you lay back for me?” The command came with a set of craving eyes, and he helped lower your back against the counter. “Good.” 

He trailed his mouth down your stomach, nipping his teeth around your curves. He took his time self indulging in adoring your body, never seeming to get enough of you. He reached your legs, lifting them and pressing his face between your thick thighs. 

“Kit, I don’t want to suffocate you,” you warned, your hand gripping one of his tendrils. 

He grinned. “If you don’t, then I’m not doing something right.” 

His tongue licked your pussy, eating you out like it was his favourite meal of the day, and that he’d been looking forward to this moment. He groaned, and the sound vibrated against your clit, making your legs shake. 

“Fuck, Kit,” you moaned. 

He sucked at your clit and you felt the pressure growing in your lower stomach, pleasure building as he inserted two fingers inside of you, pulsing them in a way that hit the perfect spots. 

“Kit, I’m gonna—” 

You squeezed your thighs around his head as your orgasm crashed through you in a wave of pleasure, feeling his tongue lick up every last drop of you. You released your hold on his tendril, realizing how hard you were gripping it. 

He kissed your inner thighs in a “thank you”, then your stomach, trailing soft marks up your body with his affection. He helped you sit up, holding you as he murmured praises in your ear. 

“You look so good spread out for me,” he whispered, his hands holding your sides. 

You hummed into his shoulder. “You carry all that talent around and no one knows.” You clicked your tongue. “It’s a shame.” 

He smiled against your hair. “You know, and that’s the only person who matters.” 

He kissed the corners of your mouth, then fitted your mouths together, deeply and sweetly as he rubbed your thigh, not caring that he’d just made a meal out of your pussy. 

“You know,” you began when you came up for a breath, “I own a bed.” 

He chuckled, kissing you again. “I am aware.” 

“Just reminding you, in case you wanted me to take care of this.” You pressed your hand against his pants and cupped his erection. 

He lifted you off the counter, his fingers not leaving your sides, and you steered him towards the bed.