Kittykatslender

Hunter looked up to see Tara standing on the ramp, leaning against the hatchway with her hand on her hip. She smiled.

“Ketch and Bozo over there let it slip that you were going after your friend. Need an extra hand?”

Hunter grunted halfheartedly, “No, not really.”

“You sure?” she asked, smiling coyly, taking a step inside, “Because you look like you could use all the help you can get.”

He frowned, “I told you I’m fine. We don’t have time for this right now, Tara.”

She sighed, “Hunter, she ran away from you. You got into an argument and she left!”

“I know!” he growled.

Tara sighed, “Hunter look, do you really think you should be going after her?” she asked gently, “She needs time.”

Hunter shook his head. “I can’t,” he snapped, “She needs me. She could be in trouble!”

Tara smiled softly, folding her arms, “Hunter, trust me. You need to give her time. That’s how women work! She’s a perfectly capable adult. You know this. Just give her some time. You need to rest too, you know.”

Hunter sighed, She is capable. Am I overthinking? Too overprotective?

Omega had said that to him before. He supposed he did have a bit of an overprotective nature, but he chalked that up only as his role as the team’s Sergeant during the war.

A good leader protects his squad.

“Nothing good comes from rushing headlong into things, Hunter,” Tara continued, “You and I both know that.” She paused tentitively then spoke softly, “I care for you too much to let you just run in blind.”

“I’m not running in blind!”

“Oh yeah? What’s the plan then?”

“Get to the coordinates. Find her. Bring her home.”

Tara nodded, “Okay, then what?”

I don’t know. Tell her I love her? Tell her that I can’t live without her?

Hunter didn’t know what to say so he was silent.

“Hunter…” Tara began, taking another step forward, “I…”

Hunter growled, “What is it that you want me to say, Tara? That I don’t know what I’m doing!? I...”

He could feel his heart beat pounding. The air felt different. He'd never said it aloud before. His mouth felt dry, almost as if he said the words it would mean that his feelings were real and that he’d be forced to face them head-on.

“You don’t understand, Tara. I love - “

She stepped forward placing a hand on his arm - a smile speading across her face.

Hunter froze at the touch, quickly turning away. He could smell her - the sweat on her dark skin, the relaxant in her hair. The pheromones in her perfume. It seemed to grab ahold of his senses, begging him to face her - to give her his full attentions. He stilled, taking a breath to steady himself.

“Do you like that, Hunter?” She said softly, tapping the panel beside the ramp as the hatch hissed closed.

Hunter felt himself begin to sweat. The scent enveloped his senses - warm and sweet. Intoxicating. It slipped through the cracks on his armor, pooling in a heat below his skin. It felt so good - so easy to relax. He bit back a groan as her fingers skimmed the skin below his chin, lifting his face towards her own. He felt his codpiece tighten.

So good. You’re so good to me.

He closed his eyes and there you were - eyes lit up in wonder at seeing the purrgil dance around the ship in hyperspace. There you were - dragging him to cover in a firefight, eyes full of concern. There you were - holding a cup of caf out to him, eyes glittering in the dim cockpit lighting.

“There you go, Hunter.” Tara murmured, “Relax. I bought this for you. For us.”

He inhaled slowly, feeling lighter than he had felt in a long time.

“I knew you’d like it,” she whispered, “Can I touch you?”

Hunter moaned - the throbbing beneath his codpiece felt stronger than ever. He wanted this - your fingers, your voice.

So good. So right. So… not you.

Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

His eyes flew open - alarm bells blaring dizzily through his skull - the scent too thick. Too much.

Not you. Not you. Wrong. Wrong. Wrong.

He gasped and stumbled backwards. “Stop!” he panted, holding up a hand. “I don’t… What the kriff are you doing!?”

Tara stood up, tearing her hand from his chest, nearly falling as she stumbled backwards, hand forcefully slapping the bulkhead behind her until she hit the exit ramp and it hissed open.

“Oh my gods!” she gasped, hands flying to her face. “I thought… I thought you wanted this! I thought…” she sputtered horrified, “You said…you said… I thought…. Oh gods… I’m so sorry, Hunter!”

Tara backed down the ramp as Hunter stumbled into the open, gasping for air. He shook his head, guilt springing to the forefront of his mind, shame sprouted in his gut making him feel sick.

How could I have let this happen?

It was the essence of you, not Tara, that had blossomed up through that musky haze. It was your hands that had touched him, not hers.

Did I tell her that I wanted this? Did I inadvertently lead her on?

He looked up, seeing her stood frozen on the bottom of the ramp, eyes wide in embarrassment, heart beat still rapid in the aftermath of horror.

She shook her head.

How could I have been so stupid? The thought was written all over her face.

“It was never me, was it.” The words came as a quiet statement rather than a question.

Hunter stood up, gritting his teeth as he composed himself. “No, Tara. It wasn't.”

“You love her, don't you.”

Hunter paused.

Saying it aloud makes it real.

Saying it aloud would prove beyond a doubt that you belonged to him and he to you.

Tech's words echoed through his brain. “According to this, you are in fact, in love.”

He took a breath. “Yes. I do love her.”

Tara nodded and turned away, “Then you should probably tell her.”

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

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @jambolska-grozdova @flyingkangaroo @melymigo @the-rain-on-kamino @jiabae @my-own-oracle @dragonrider9905 @queenofspades6 @ordinarylokix @jupitersaturnapollo @queencousland101 @vampire-rogue @southernbaguette @staycalmandhugaclone @dalu-grantkylo @dangraccoon @aconstructofamind @sev-on-kamino @sol-the-otter @pb-jellybeans @atomickidsoul @caitnotfound @ghostlyembassy @skellymom @freesia-writes @trixie2023 @jedipoodoo @reader6898 @all-mights-babygirl @arcsimper5 @red-robin-yum08 @wintersnnowie @whore-of-many-hot-men @theeyesofasoldier @griffedeloup @starswhores @totallyunidentified @waytooldforthis78

“This place is awful,” Alpha-17 grumbles as he folds his arms over his chest and glowers at a scrawny Doctor who looks like he’s about to come over and talk to you.

“You didn’t have to come to this seminar, Alpha.”

“I’m following orders,” He replies sarcastically. “General Ti said you needed a bodyguard. So here I am. Guarding your body.”

“Hm…and what are you guarding my body from, exactly?” You ask, as you flip through the brochure, “What kind of food do you want me to order for us tonight, by the way.”

“Hm?” He glances at the brochure over your shoulder and taps a restaurant, “They have good curry, according to someone else’s bodyguard.” Alpha replies, though he doesn’t finish answering your question until you grabbed the menu for the restaurant that he indicated, “Anyway, I’m apparently protecting your body from horny scientists.”

“...wait, what?”

“Don’t worry about it.”

“Are you seriously scaring off potential dates? Alpha!”

“You don’t need a date. You’re here for work, remember.” Alpha snarks.

“You sound jealous.”

“I’m pretty sure that guy can’t go up a flight of stairs without needing to pause to catch his breath.” Alpha says snidely, “He definitely wouldn’t be any fun in the sack.”

“Why are you even thinking about my sex life?” You ask.

“I have a lot of free time.”

“Which you spend thinking about me being naked.”

Alpha tilts his head and drags his gaze down your body, humming thoughtfully, “I have a very vivid imagination, princess.”

You scowl at him, and ignore the way that your face burns with the ease of long practice. You take a deep breath and look away from him, “You talk a good game, Alpha. But what would you do if I actually took you at your word?”

He arches an eyebrow at you, and you roll your eyes and shake your head.

“If you had the guts, Alpha, you would have kissed me already.” You say as you turn and meet his gaze evenly. Challenging Alpha is never a good idea, on account of the fact that he always wins. But you’re so tired of him flirting with you and then not doing anything about it.

Alpha straightens, and his gaze is locked on your face, “You think something is stopping me from doing that right now?”

“I don’t think you will. I think you’re all talk.”

Alpha stares at you for a long moment, absolutely silent, and then he smiles, slow and dark, “Okay.”

You pause and shoot him a strange look, “Okay?”

“Okay.” He repeats, his smile never once changing.

“Okay…” You say slowly, and then you turn your attention towards the brochure rack. However you expected him to react to your challenge, that wasn’t it.

You jerk when you feel his finger trail up your spine to stop in the middle of your neck, “You might just regret that, princess.” Alpha breathes in your ear, and then he’s no longer touching you.

You glance at him, he looks completely calm, though his gaze is locked on your face and the promising smile on his lips hasn’t wavered. You take a steadying breath, and turn to him, “Do you see anything you want to do?” You ask, as you motion at the stand.

He doesn’t take his eyes off of you, “Yeah, I do.” His grin grows when you shift slightly under his heated gaze, “But I don’t see anything on the stand I’m interested in.”

“Great!” You reply as you quickly spin away from him, “Then I’ll just grab a few of the restaurant menus and then we can go.” You hear him chuckle behind you, and you kind of want to pout. But you also brought this on yourself.

You grab a handful, necessary since you’re going to be here at this seminar for the next week or so, and then you turn to head towards the lift. Alpha, dutifully, trails after you and settles against the wall inside the lift.

He slams his finger against the button that shuts the door, causing the doors to slide shut before another scientist can enter the elevator with you.

“That wasn’t nice,” You say as the lift starts moving.

“I’m not nice.”

“Hm. I don’t believe that.”

“You just keep digging that hole, don’t you princess?” Alpha murmurs, his eyes glittering.

You consider him for a moment, and then you lift your chin, defiantly, “I still think you’re all talk, Alpha.”

His smile grows into a grin, and he reaches out to brush his thumb over your lower lip, “You know why I didn’t kiss you in the lobby?” He asks conversationally.

“Because you don’t mean it.”

“Because I fully intend to have you naked as soon as I have you in the room, and no one is allowed to see that but me.” Alpha growls out, “Especially not those scientists down there.”

Your lips part slightly, “Oh.”

His thumb presses a little harder against your lower lip, “Unless, princess, you’re not interested.”

“I never said that,” You reply immediately, and Alpha smirks at you, his gaze heated, but drops his hand as the doors open. He allows you to lead the way to the room. He waits patiently as you key in the door code, and he waits patiently for the door to slide shut behind him.

And then he’s on you.

Your back is pressed against the door, and his lips are warm and demanding against yours. He uses his teeth and tongue to devastating effect, and when he breaks the kiss, you’re flushed and breathless.

He takes a step away from you, and you whine low in your throat, “Alpha-?” As he backs into the room and settles on the couch.

“Come away from the door, princess.” He orders, his voice a low rumble. And you obediently step away from the door, and get to the middle of the room, before his voice stops you, “Stop there.” Alpha leans back against the couch, his legs splayed, as he palms the obvious bulge in his pants. He lazily frees his cock from the confines of his pants, and smirks at you, “See something you like, princess.”

Your gaze is locked on his cock, and you take half a step towards him.

“Did I say you could move, princess?” Alpha asks, his voice low.

You hesitate, but move back into the original position.

“Good girl,” He praises as he lazily strokes his cock, “Strip for me, my pretty girl. I want to see you.”

With shaking hands, you start peeling your clothes off. First your shirt and bra, and then your pants and underwear. And as soon as you’re bare in front of him, you fold your arms over your stomach.

“Beautiful,” He murmurs, his gaze hungrily dragging down your body. Alpha considers you for a moment, and then he smiles, “Come here, princess.”

You cross the short distance quickly, and Alpha pulls you to balance on his knee, rather than pulling you flush against him like how you wanted. “Alpha-” His name slips from you in a whine, and he leans in to kiss you, turning your whine into a sigh.

He pulls away and leans back against the couch, “Touch yourself,” Alpha orders, his gaze dragging down your body to linger on your pussy, “Make yourself cum, princess.”

Your fingers twitch towards his cock, and he laughs softly, “I know what you want, princess.” One of his hands ghosts across your breasts, and he rolls one of  your nipples between his fingers, and he’s rewarded with a moan, “Can you do this for me, princess?”

You release a shaky breath, but you nod, and your hand slides down your body. You ease in a single finger and you thrust slowly, as you twist your wrist so you’re able to rub the little bundle of nerves that brings you so much pleasure.

You fall into your usual habits, your free hand coming up to clamp over your mouth to muffle your needy moans. 

Alpha releases a growl and tugs your hand away from your mouth, “I want to hear you.” He threads his fingers with yours, and he’s not the least bit surprised when you tightly squeeze his hand.

And when you’re right there, right on the edge of reaching your climax, Alpha grabs your wrist and pulls your drenched hand away from your body. “No…’m so close….” you whine out, writhing on his lap for the friction that you need. Though you stop moving when Alpha takes your fingers into his mouth and starts licking them clean.

He releases your fingers, and pulls you a little closer, his lips catching yours in a heated kiss, and you moan at the taste of Alpha mixed with the subtle taste of yourself still on his tongue.

Your hips jerk when you feel the blunt head of his cock against your entrance, and slowly, very slowly, he pulls you down his hard length. He’s big, much bigger than your fingers or any of the toys you’ve used in the past. It’s a little uncomfortable, but as you settle fully on his length, the discomfort fades into pleasure.

Alpha breaks the kiss, his lips moving to your neck, as curses fall from his lips at the way you’re fluttering around him, “So fucking tight,” He groans, “Let me know when you’re ready to move, princess.”

You press your face against his neck, your hands curling tightly into his shirt, and you nod. Slowly you rock your hips, unsure about the unfamiliar position, and it takes you a moment, but you eventually find a rhythm that has the coil in your stomach winding tight again.

“That’s right, princess. Use my cock to chase your pleasure,” He groans in your ear, shallowly thrusting up into you.

You release a quiet whine when you realize that you can’t quite push yourself over the edge, “Alpha-”

“Shh,” He soothes you with a hand down your spine, “What do you need, Princess?”

“I can’t-”

“I have you.” Alpha murmurs, “Wrap your arms around me.” You do as he instructs, wrapping your arms tightly around him, and then he thrusts up into you roughly, as one of his hands slides between you to quickly roll his thumb over your clit.

And finally the coil snaps, and Alpha’s name falls from your lips like a prayer. And he continues fucking you though your orgasm, chasing his own release as he holds you tightly against his chest, praise falling from his lips as you slowly came down from your high.

His thrusts become shallow, and his lips crash against yours as he pulls you down around him, hard, and then he holds you still as he spills his release deep inside you. 

Alpha keeps you flush against him, staying buried deep within you as he presses lingering kisses against your neck and throat. And neither of you speak until you both have your breathing under control.

And then he tilts his head back to look at you, a smug smirk playing on his lips, “Do you believe me now?”

You blink at him, slightly bewildered, and then you pout, “Yeah. I guess.”

His smirk widens, and he lazily smoothes his hand down your spine, “So, Princess, how long do you think you need before round two?”

You release a breathless laugh, “Can we at least move to a bed, please?”

In the hours before the sun broke out a band of nightbrothers awoke from their light slumber. The olders did what they could to help raise the youngest from sleep while the others put supplies into the boats. 

Tried as they might the accompanying little nightbrother head bobbed slightly as they pushed off from the dock. 

“Wake up little one or you’ll miss the first catch.” One brother shook the youngest shoulder. The little one rubbed the last remnants of sleep from his eyes, “Hope its a big one” his tummy rumbled. 

The brothers laughed, a nightbrothers stomach was never full. A biscuit was handed to the little one to help settle his growling belly. 

As the boat moved through the swamp the traps were visited, each latched onto the trees whose roots were sunk into the deep waters. With a practiced hand of many a summer in the swa,ps the traps were flipped onto the boat. Like many a nightbrother before him, a little one would either laugh or squeal at the sight of the catch. 

Dathomir’s crawfish also affectionately called mudbugs were a bright blue and speckled. Many a nightborther would also tell you they could pack quite a pinch. Oh to be a small nightbrother once more and recall thier first run-in with an angry mudbug. 

The youngest of the fishing boat licked his lips at the sight of the mudbug dropping onto the boat. “Well go on now, sort them” an older chided him. 

The little nightbrother set to it. Sorting apart the large mudbugs from the scaly and silvery stray minnows who found their way in the trap. Tossing to the side the dead ones and resisting the temptation to pick a lively one and give it a good crunch. 

“No, you don’t little one” The large mudbug in his hand snatched away, “That’s for the boil you greedy thing. Come on now we have more traps to get and rebait” 

Another nightbrother reached into one of the baskets and tied a piece of catfish. A looked over catch, much more for reckless sport than taste and plenty good to cut up for bait. The little nightbrother watched as the trap was set back in place and off they were once more to the next trap. 

As the little nightbrother reached out for the next trap bobbing as they reached closer, a hand stopped him. A finger pointing outwards, among the water plants eyes unblinking among the stilled waters, 

A shudder ran through him. 

A growl, a roar, jawns gnashing down. The swamps of Dathomir had its dangers like the rest of the planet, no area was free of it. 

The mudbugs were hauled over to the awaiting group of brothers, a trio of little ones immediately poking and prodding the creatures, yelping at getting pinched and shooed off by the elders for the ruckus. The mudbucks were brought to the large pot that had been set to boil as the brothers had left to go fishing. Already a wonderful smell wafted over the camp. The little nightbrother glanced at the fat pots about the area. Plenty of flavoring to give to the boil. He did make a face that the slimy vegetables were also being put in. 

“Don't fuss, it's traditional.” 

“There better be corn” the child muttered. 

Corn, root vegetables, and the crawfish burst with flavor and spice. Bright blue shells were tossed away in piles as the brothers dug into the feast. Each went to sleep with a bellyful. 

Summer in the swamps were a fond memory, “We will be back next summer” the little one is reminded as the camps were closed up as the first breezes of autumn came, soon they would leave for the mountains and the villages once more. 

The little brother watched the swamp disappeared from view. He looked up the red sky, in the distance he could see a ship. 

One. Two. Three. 

A ship on Dathomir must be a miscalculated landing.

The adults and elders spoke to one another in hushed tones. The little brother just stared up curious as the ships got closer and closer.   

—--

 Savage had said summers were for retreating to the swamps. 

From the looks of the sheds there had been no one here in some time. Boats covered in moss and pots covered in dust. 

Maul readied himself for its ghosts. Laughter, chiding, hums of songs he did not know, the smell of a spicy stew, and the nights with never-ending song. It was not like the villages they had gone through. 

Screams, shots and blaster fire. There was no darkness here…

“Careful,” Starlight had tugged Cress and Aster from the water. The twins had licked thier lips seeing the little mudbugs hide away into the shore. 

Maul walked over and reached into the water, he didn't wince at the pinch and pulled up a mudbug. Aster’s little hand immediately tried to snatch it away. 

“No you don’t” he chided her, “That’s for the boil you greedy little thing” 

Savage’s little ones poked their heads out of the large boil pot, as thier buir looked in, “It's a tad too big for us, but it's still good.”  

Aster had snatched up mudbug before her buir could stop her. “Looks like you know what to do.” 

—-

The swamp welcomed them as the moon rose, the sounds lulling the little ones asleep. Bellies full from their feast. Their buirs listened to the nightbrothers as they sang. 

 Hums from years past slipped past Maul’s lips as Savage recalled the songs. 

You can’t fight the smirk that stretches over your lips at the scene ahead. If your rushed attempt at hiding was bad, Hunter’s was downright pitiful. Of all the places, your lover picked the back of your house to hide behind. It was a passable — if predictable — choice. Or it would be, if he didn’t forget to leave his boots out of view.

Tip-toeing to his hiding spot, you bite your lip to keep in the laughter bubbling in your chest, feeling every bit like a cheesy holomovie villain, sneaking behind the hero to deliver a nefarious attack. But the ‘gotcha!’ on your tongue never makes it past your lips.

Confusion robs your voice as you process what’s in front of your eyes. Where you expected Hunter to stand, there’s only a discarded pair of boots, surrounded by undisturbed, smooth snow — no tracks to be seen. Realization feels like a bucket of cold water washing over you, and adrenaline turns your giddiness into hyperawareness in the space of a heartbeat.

He could be anywhere.

Suddenly too exposed and vulnerable, you quickly backtrack your route. Wide-eyed, you scan the white expanse of the backyard for any signal of Hunter activity, suspicious of every blade of grass, branch, and rock littering the floor.

On the edge as you are, the sudden touch on your back is enough to make you jump a foot in the air. An entirely undignified squawk echoes in the cold as you lose balance, toppling headfirst towards the ground.

Your face never touches the snow. Instead, it presses against the warm, solid — rumbling with laughter — chest of your lover.

Petty irritation over losing the battle before it even starts sparks in your chest. But, just like the half-hearted pout in your face, it fizzles out and dies as Hunter’s joy wraps around you like a blanket.

How could you possibly be annoyed when his joy was so loud, so clear? When he gave in to the laughter usually seen in the more carefree Wrecker — the kind that formed belly-deep, rumbling with enough strength to destabilize you from atop him? When he sported a grin so wide, the corner of his eyes crinkled in the most adorable way, sparkling with joy rarely afforded in his way of life? …

Oh, you were in deep for the sergeant, weren’t you? The realization might cause more worry than you really felt, if the love-struck glint in his warm brown eyes didn’t make it clear as day that he was twice as gone for you.

“Gotcha.” He purrs once he calms down enough to speak, strong arms tugging you closer to deliver a noisy kiss at the crown of your head.

“Yeah, yeah. You got me. Happy?” You snort at his lively nodding, before growing serious, “But I can’t believe you took off your boots just to trick me! Let it be known I will hear no grumble or excuse if you catch a cold because of that.”

“Every sacrifice is worth it when it comes to love and war, mesh’la.” Hunter says, sitting and bending over to pull his boots back on before his hands rest on your waist, squeezing softly. “Even more so when this is my winning prize…” His wink is almost enough to kick your annoyance back to life.

“Winning prize, huh?” You ask, turning to straddle him with a smirk and an idea brewing in your head.

“Oh yeah,” Hunter says, eyes closing with a pleased hum when your hands run down his chest and up his sides, “having you in my lap? All over me? Sure feeling like a winner here, love.”

“I’m sure you do, love.” Your smirk widens to a devilish grin as Hunter leans back on his gloved hands, eager to grant you wandering ones further access to his body, “But you should know better than to count your chickens before they hatch!”

It’s Hunter’s turn to jump when, instead of the touch he expected, you shove a fistful of snow up into his blacks. His startled yelp, the way his eyes go wide, jaw popping open in shock and betrayal. It’s all too much. You’re powerless to fight your own fit of laughter, a half-hearted ‘I’m sorry love’ wheezed amidst your cackling.

“Oh no, you didn’t,” he growls, making a show of picking the melting ice from his shirt.

“Oh, but I did,” you say, arms crossing over your chest “all is fair in love and war-” the taunt dies in your throat as the world blurs, and then Hunter is smirking above you, muscular thighs bracketing your waist. “Hunter, cyar’ika…” you plead in vain, wrists pinned above your head. Whimpering is all what’s left as the same evil grin you sported moments ago now stretches over Hunter’s full lips. His hand — full of snow — crawls menacingly close to the edge of your shirt, and your yelp pierces the air when the ice slides home right under your jacket.

“Ah, so it’s war you want?” you say, his payback igniting the fire of revenge on you. In a move mastered after one too many roughhousing with the boys, up go your hips — and off you falls Hunter. On top once more, you promptly wipe off his smirk with two fistfuls of snow.

You wrestle back and forth for what feels like forever, rolling in the frozen ground like a pair of mischievous tooka, no victor ever rising from the tangle of limbs and laughter.

Until you sneeze, that is.

Like the flip of a switch, all mischief bleeds off Hunter’s eyes; the smirk shifts into a fond smile, and tickling hands pull you off the snow, right into his warm body. Your complaints about getting “carried away from the fun” are both half-hearted and quick to fade as you melt into his embrace, humming contentedly as Hunter’s furnace-like body heat seeps into your now damp layers.

It still surprised you, sometimes, how hot clone’s bodies ran. It probably was intentional engineering from the Kaminoans, but you counted it as a blessing. There was no better way to keep toasty and cozy when the cold seasons came around… Not so much of a blessing during summer, though. By then, every moment felt like standing fully clothed under Tatooine’s twin suns — because if there was one thing Hunter was besides loving, it was awfully cuddly.

Probably the reason he has you tucked halfway inside his jacket, your arms by his neck and legs held around his waist like you’re his personal cuddle toy.

Hunter refuses to let you go as he reaches the door, tightening his hold on you when you try to climb down; content to fumble with punching the door’s code with his non-dominant hand, to hop awkwardly while taking off his boots — as long as you stay right where you are. You chuckle at his antics, but hold on strong; if he thrives on cuddling, far from you to deprive your man of his sustenance!

Hunter’s grip doesn’t ease once you’re both inside, breath not even hitching as he keeps you firmly at his hip (oh, the pros of enhanced strength!) while crossing the expanse of your home to the bedroom to pick your fluffiest towel, and you’re still on his lap as warm water fills the bathtub in your ‘fresher.

So. Cuddly.

“Take your time, love,” he says before giving your forehead a kiss, at last done with fussing over your chilled body. “There’ll be caf and snacks waiting when you’re done.”

Sinking in the tub with a contented sigh, you do just that, letting the water chase off whatever lingering cold your family-sized heating pad of a husband didn’t manage to. The familiar clinks and clangs of Hunter’s kitchen antics fill the air, and a fond smile tugs at your lips. Who would’ve thought? The battle-hardened, serious clone sergeant fate had you stumbling upon years ago, now whistled away in the kitchen. Baking.

How you ‘domesticated’ a man like him was maybe the one mystery of your life, but you wouldn’t have it any other way. Sure, the whole rebelling against the Empire and the many rotations spent apart took some (a lot of) time to adjust to. But all the cuddles, devotion, and the way Hunter strove to make you feel loved more than made up for it. The homemade food was a definite plus, too — blessed be Echo, for teaching his brothers the life outside of ration bars.

It’s refreshing, you think. Being in a relationship with someone who puts as much work in as you do. Just like you, Hunter never stopped wooing and courting you every moment he got to spend by your side, even after he ‘officially’ moved in, or when you said the ‘I do’ years ago, on that tropical planet’s beach. He was everything you could expect from a husband, really.

Well, except for those nights patching up his blaster wounds, and all the time spent apart. But you knew what you were getting into from the start, so complaining would hardly be fair.

Eventually, hunger outweighs the will to stay in the rapidly cooling water, and you walk back to the bedroom. Deciding on comfort, you rummage through Hunter’s — very messy — half of the wardrobe, humming when you spot your target. The once coarse black fabric is faded gray and soft, the colorful image in the middle has long peeled away.

But you still remember, as if it was yesterday, Hunter’s face when you gifted him the tacky souvenir shirt as a joke. How elated he was that you thought, that you liked him enough to get something — silly as it was — for him.

You’d known each other for a while by then; that you’d been slowly falling for the sergeant was the worst kept secret of your life, but it was that smile and then hug he gave you that day sealed your fate. Hunter’s scent is fading from the fabric when you bring it to your face, but it still has enough him to have the butterflies stir in your belly as you approach the kitchen.

The delicious smell of toasted bread, herbs and spiced caf hits you as you enter the room, but it’s not it, or the fruits and steaming food spread atop the table that makes your mouth water.

Hunter stands with his back to you, the stay-at-home gray sweatpants hanging dangerously low at the hips the only thing on his body. You don’t even try to stop from ogling his broad frame, the strong neck – exposed by the messy bun atop his head –, and the delicious back muscles shifting under golden brown skin as he taste-tests whatever else was he was making for the both of you.

A different kind of hunger blooms inside as you lean on the door frame. Your fingertips tingle with the need to trace the designs inked on his skin, to run over the expanse of his back and up his scalp the way you know he loves. The way that makes him look at you with a need mirroring the one steadily growing at the apex of your thighs.

Biting down on your lip is all you can do to keep silent your groan as Hunter stretches; his arms rise up above, giving you a show of his biceps, and your mind’s eye floods with scenes of the last time your nails dug in them. You mentally pat yourself in the back for not jumping your husband’s bones then and there, and keep on watching the little show he unknowingly puts on.

It amused you, how focused Hunter could get with his tasks; how at ease he felt in your home, able to relax instead of having his senses on alert and scanning for danger 24/7. Enough to let all sounds, noises, and scents blend into ‘white noise’, blissfully oblivious to whatever went on outside his immediate bubble, to the point he won’t even notice you.

Not until a soft groan leaves your lips — the throbbing between your legs grown too insistent to be ignored for much longer —, and he turns around with the beginnings of that grin that always sends your heart racing.

“I didn’t hear you come in, cyar'ika, snacks are…” the words fade into silence once he registers what you’re wearing, and how little. The bottom of the shirt barely covered past the top of your thighs, and by the way Hunter breathes in and groans, he’s plenty aware it’s the only thing you got on. Even without enhanced senses, he’s seen you aroused enough times by now to pick on your heaving chest, your lips parting as your thighs squeeze together… On the heavy, hungry gaze pining him into place and heating his own body.

Hunter leans back in the counter with a smirk, arms crossing over his chest. A teasing brow rises when your eyes follow the movement, and the smirk grows into a cocky smile when he flexes, and you involuntarily lick your lower lip.

“May I be of help, cyare?” he asks, not bothering to hide the huskiness on his voice.

Instead of giving a verbal answer, you approach him slowly, enjoying how his heated gaze follows your every move, breath growing shallow as he takes a better look at you. By the time you reach Hunter, he’s already grasping the countertop, both making himself all the more inviting to your gaze and knowing better than to make a move to touch you.

And that was another thing that surprised you in this relationship. When you first got intimate, you fully expected a large man like him, a squad leader, to be full of dominance between the sheets, but that was not the case. Sure, Hunter had his moments of taking the reins when you didn’t feel like leading the show but — unlike some past lovers —, he didn’t complain or huff about your own dominant nature. If anything, he encouraged it.

“Oh, you want to help me?” You purr, grasping his chin to make him look at you, instead of your thighs. He did not earn it, yet. “I can think of some ways…” your opposite hand rakes down his chest, and you watch in delight as goosebumps rise in the wake of your touch.

Hunter shudders when your fingers trace the scar crossing his rib cage, a low moan spilling from his lips as his body arches under your touch, heated skin hungry for more of your caresses. You don’t leave him wanting, moving to squeeze his hips and ass, enjoying the feeling of strong muscles flexing under your palm as Hunter focuses on staying still, so you may explore as you please.

“Aren’t you such a good boy? Taking what I give you without being greedy,” he nods in your grasp, eyes closing under the praise, but snapping back open when you give his cheeks a soft squeeze, “good boys deserve rewards.” You pull him down to the readily reciprocated kiss, humming as the sweetness of what he was tasting coats your tongue. Hunter bucks with a groan when you cup the growing bulge in his pants, “And so willing to please…”

“Any- anything for you, cyare, ah-” he stutters between pants as you kiss and bite down the strong column of his neck.

“Great! So, will you please be a dear and grab the syrup for me? I’m really craving a snack right now, and you’re at the cabinet already!” The disbelief in Hunter’s eyes at your sudden change of subject is a little sad, but you only smile expectantly, tilting your head to the side when he doesn’t move outright.

“Anything for you, love… Which flavor do you want?” when he finally speaks, the strain of lust clear as day, as is the one in the sweatpants. His breath hitches when he adjusts it before reaching for the syrup. 

You pounce as soon as his back is turned. Hands resting on his chest, you kiss each vertebra of his back tattoo, trailing down to close your teeth at the dip of his waist. He rewards you with one of the deep moans you love, trying to turn around before you stop him, nails digging on the meat of his hips.

“No, darling” you tut, breasts pressing against his back, a finger drawing circles at the edge of his cock’s outline, “keep your hands right where they are.” He concedes with a shaky breath, resting his forehead on the cabinet door, forearms resting over his head. “Very good, Sarge.”

You keep teasing him over the sweatpants, fingers running soft paths over his inner thighs, stomach and chest, avoiding the place he needed your touch the most. A flame of wicked satisfaction licks down your back as you watch his hips rut hopelessly against the air whenever you ghost the edges of his bulge.

It’s not until a fine sheen of sweat glazes the skin of his back, knees about to give under the weight of his lust, that Hunter is shown some – cruel – mercy, stepping back and sitting on the countertop.

“I want the chocolate one,” you finally answer his earlier question, a smirk on your lips when Hunter finally glances over his shoulder, lust-glazed eyes blinking a few times before your words truly register. Already so wrecked, and you’ve barely started.

“What will-” words fail when you cross your legs to stave off some of the aching desire in your core, giving him a glimpse of your slicked thighs. “Cyare… What will you…” he takes a deep breath to calm down his mounting frustration, only to regret when the scent of your arousal floods his senses.

“Take your time, darling.” You say, making a show of popping a fruit slice between your lips, then licking the juice off your fingers. He takes a shuddering breath, and you smirk.

“What will you be eating, cyare?” Hunter’s voice is nearly a growl under his need’s weight, one that sends a pleasurable shiver down your back.

“There it is, I knew you could do it!” you coo, kissing his temple and taking the bottle in his hand. “You.” When he blinks in confusion, you weave your hands on the back of his hair, tugging once to get his full attention. “You are the only snack I plan on having, as soon as you sit down on that chair.” You guide his gaze to it, taking the chance to tease that spot under his ear with your lips while he shakily nods. “Now be a good boy for me, yeah?”

The words are barely out of your mouth before Hunter is halfway there, pants flying across the room and chair scrapping over the floor in his eagerness to finally get his reward. Shaking your head with a chuckle, you take your time sauntering your way to him, an extra sway on your hips to tease him one last time.

Once standing between his legs, you open the bottle and let flow a generous stream of chocolate over his chest and stomach. Satisfied with the amount of ‘topping’, you finally give in to the craving that has been killing you since you stepped through the door.

Hunter whines a curse when you take off your top and get on your knees, the softness of your chest on his body threatening to break him even before your tongue can reach him.

The intoxicated groan is not something you can hold back when you give the first lick; the syrup’ sweetness and the salt of Hunter’ skin making for a decadent cocktail that have you immediately diving for more, lips, tongue, and teeth gracing his body with the drive of a beast starved.

By the time your lips finally reach his throbbing bulge, your lover is a sweating, swearing, panting, beautiful mess. His eyes — black with need — stare down at you from behind the thin curtain of curls he tugged free in the need of grounding himself from your touches; sweat-coated chest heaving with the breaths passing from parted lips. And Hunter looks so pretty like that, you almost rise off your knees to tell him that. Almost. Instead, you give in to the demanding fire in your core and rid him of the last barrier keeping you from what you crave the most.

The moment your fingers curl around his cock, Hunter arches off the chair with a shouted moan, hips stuttering in your grasp out of instinct; still, he has the presence of mind to tap your arm twice, and you immediately let go. For a heartbeat, you worry he won’t be able to stop, but with a string of slurred curses falling from his lips, he settles back down. Cheek resting on his trembling thigh, your hand soothes up and down his calves, the other entwined on his own. A squeeze is the signal he’s ready, and you’re quick to pick up from where you stopped.

Holding Hunter’s gaze, you finally bring your mouth to where he needs you the most. A sadistic pleasure licks at the base of your spine as you watch him struggle to keep his eyes open under your tongue’s ministrations. He sucks in a sharp breath when you flatten your tongue against his heavy balls, and it comes out as a whined ‘Gedet'ye’ when you take one inside your mouth before paying attention to the other.

You move to lick the underside of his cock, following the heady trail of pre-cum dripping — flowing — from the neglected head, humming at the warm taste before taking him in your mouth. You’re sure the desperate moan that comes out of his lips is the best sound you’ve heard in your life; as you let him out of your mouth before taking him back as far as you can, you’re gifted with another one.

“Mesh’la!…” Hunter pants, mouth moving but no other words come out. You hum a question, and the vibrations rip a sobbed moan from his chest before a hand tugs at the curls, the other clawing at his own thighs in a brave attempt to ground himself. It seems to work, because Hunter swallows once, twice around his moans before finding his words “Y- You’re killing me, gedet'ye, please, p-”

Hunter’s hips start to buck as you double your efforts, sucking hard on the head as your hands caress his balls and jerk him slow and firm — the way it drives him mad —, his half sentences drown under ragged breaths and growled moans, and when the head of his cock seems to thicken even more on your tongue, you know exactly what to do.

Pure, beautiful music. That’s what Hunter’s needy, broken groan is, as you get back on your feet and leave him dangling at the edge of glory — but with nothing to push him off it. His head falls back, leg bouncing, sweat-slicked chest heaving, breaths huffing against his palms as he brings them to cover his face. Is it…?

You tower over his seated shape, half-caging him in with a hand on the back of the chair, the other holding his jaw. The effect is immediate: Hunter’s attention snaps to you, hands falling away from his face to reveal teary, warm brown eyes under upturned eyebrows. His gaze doesn’t break even as he leans in your touch when your thumb soothes over his tattooed cheek, or when it gently pulls his lower lip from his teeth. 

“Hunter, cyare?” You say, smoothing stray curls off his face and resting your forehead on his, smiling when he softly presses back, “too much, do you need a break? We can always stop if you say the word.”

“Thanks for checking, love,” he says, voice a hoarse whisper — if from affection or moaning so much, you’re not sure —, hand cupping your cheek to bring you to a soft kiss “but I’m good if you are.” He fights the aroused shivers wrecking his body the best he can, keeping his face as clear as possible while you make sure he’s telling the truth. And Hunter knows exactly the moment you’re convinced, your gaze morphing from concerned to sharp, smile melting into a smirk, fingers tugging his head back by the locks now in your fist.

“Oh, I see.” You purr, the gentle grasp on his jaw turning fierce as your nails dig into his tattooed skin, “Are you getting greedy, love? Is this why you weren’t happy with the pleasure I gave, and threw a tantrum, hm?” Hunter hisses when you pull his head to the side by the hair, hips squirming to rut his cock against his body exactly once before your nails dig in, pinning his hip down with your weight, “Is this really what you want right now? To be an ungrateful brat?”

Hunter glances at you from the corner of wide eyes, Adam’s apple bobbing, before shaking his head the best he could from the tight grasp you kept on his hair. But you were not having it, a soft growl rumbling your chest before descending with lips and teeth on the strong column of his neck. Hunter whimpers, the duality of soft lips and sharp teeth making his hips fight your grasp as you bite a fresh claim on his skin. Your lips trail his ear, leaving the bite to sting with no soothing. A promise.

“I asked you a question, ner cyar’ika.” You say, teeth grazing the soft spot right below his ear. A warning. “Now be good for me, and use your big boy words. Will you keep being a brat? Is it a punishment you’re angling for, hm?”

“N– No, ma’am,” Hunter moans, “I want– Please let me be your good boy, please ma’am.”

“Oh, cyare…” you coo, “You know being my good boy is not something you get to beg out of me”. Releasing the grasp on his locks, you chuckle when he briefly tries to follow your retreating touch before catching himself and sitting back again. “Why don’t you show me how much you mean it?”

Hunter is off the chair and hoisting you up the countertop before you can even start to tug off your shirt. You throw him a bone, letting him have a fill of you with nuzzling open your legs and pawing at your thighs to prop them up his shoulders, before his jaw is back on your grasp.

“Oh my, how selfish of me! Feasting on to my heart’s content while you’re so very hungry… Let’s fix that, yeah?” You coo, spreading your legs further and granting him a clear view of how much you want him right now. Hunter’s gaze borders on ravenous as it fixates on your cunt, he barely blinks when you pat his cheek before relaxing back on your back, “Now be a dear and eat all you can ha-”

Your teasing cuts short when Hunter dives in, hands planting near your shoulders as he stands up — rising your lower back clean from the table; your legs tighten on instinct, trapping his head between your thighs. Hunter doesn’t relent, instead rutting the table’s edge with a groan and licking a slow stripe from your entrance to your clit.

The way Hunter is eating you out is a far cry from the gentle, careful way you’re used to. His tattooed cheek glistens with a coating of your slick as he nuzzles your thighs and kisses your pussy lips with abandon. It’s glorious. His moans and groans vibrate deliciously against your center as he uses tongue, lips, and a dash of teeth to suck and tease every spot he knows drives you crazy, before finally moving to your clit.

His lips wrap around your throbbing clit and suck at the same time a thick digit breaches your entrance, and your eyes roll so hard you swear you glimpse at the face of the Maker. You start to roll your hips as a familiar, decadent fire swells in your core, and Hunter’s free hand roves your body. The calloused palms and fingertips only adding to your mounting pleasure as he settles on massaging and squeezing your chest. A second finger breaches you, and you curse, pleasure like a second heart beating to the rhythm of Hunter’s fingers hitting your sweet spot. Then he tweaks one of your nipples, and you’re gone.

You’re vaguely aware of Hunter getting on his knees, giving you a better angle to ride your high on his mouth as pleasure drowns your mind in bliss; or the way his own moans echo yours with the way your thighs squeeze until he’s dazed.

When your high subsides at last, Hunter is quick to catch your wobbly legs as they roll off his shoulders. As you roll your head to the side to check on him — you did put his head in a lock —, a wave of relief and renewed lust wash over you at the sight that greets you. Hunter’s face — chin, mouth, even the bridge of his nose — glistens with your slick, eyes wild, needy gasps falling from his lips. Pre-cum pools under his rutting cock as he mindlessly grinds on the edge of the table — desperate for any kind of relief for his aching.

Scooting to the edge until his length is trapped between your bodies, you pull Hunter in for a kiss. Your taste on his lips makes you moan; the sound spurs him on, hips picking up their rutting in a frantic manner. He groans at the feel of your nails digging on his nape as you deepen the kiss, tongue chasing his and lips swallowing his increasing whimpers.

“Such a good boy, taking care of me so well,” you say, breaking from the kiss for air and holding his face in your hands, gaze locked on his. “Do you know what good boys get? Rewarded. Fuck me, cyare.”

He nods eagerly when you lay back down, face burying in your shoulder as he aligns and sheathes himself to the base in a single motion, ripping a shouted moan from the both of you. His body trembles under your caressing hands with the effort of waiting for you to get used to his girth. You purposefully squeeze your walls around him to signal you’re ready, and he chokes on a moan at the feeling before he starts moving.

Hunter’s moves slow and deep at first, both savoring finally your warmth and making sure you’re truly ready, before he stills again — his length buried as deep as it goes —, both hands gripping your waist hard. Your brows furrow in confusion, and you’re about to ask what’s wrong when he leaves the shelter of your shoulder to face you.

“Mesh’la, I-” Hunter stutters, clearly trying to focus despite his fraying control. “I can’t be gentle I’m- I’m too worked up-” he mumbles, showering kisses all over your chest and kneading the soft of your hips to ground himself against the urge to ravage you.

“Good.” You purr, hands latching on the back of his hair to get his attention back on you. The growl that falls from his lips at that has goosebumps breaking over your skin, am aroused giggle escaping your throat “Because I didn’t ask you to make love to me,” you pull his head down, gracing his neck in another bite, “I told you to fuck me.”

“As you wish, my queen.”

And fuck you he does, beating the breath out of your lungs with every hard stroke of his cock. And even though your legs cross at the ankle and cling to his waist with all you have, or you hold on to his broad shoulders for dear life, Hunter’s hand on your hip was all keeping you in place. The sound of skin on skin, heavy breathing, gasps and half-choked moans make for the debauched symphony of your fucking.

It’s not long before his pace starts faltering, his moans melting into whimpers as his need to fill you up reaches its limit. His rough finger circles your clit with practiced precision, eager to send you over the edge one more time before he can. Hunter clings to you as he feels you come, a hand bruising a grip on your thigh, the other curling tight under your waist to keep you in place; his chest presses yours down, teeth latching on your shoulder.

He thrusts once, twice, and sheathes his cock as far as he can as his climax takes over, a mix of praises and curses of your name falling from his lips like a prayer as his cum fills your cunt.

You barely have the time to catch your breath, to come down from the first round’s haze before you feel Hunter — still buried deep inside you — getting hard once more. You smile down at him, humming as he peppers kisses and nibbles on your chest — maker bless clone stamina. But another kind of hunger overcomes the one flaring back to life between your legs, and your stomach growls a loud refusal to being neglected again.

Hunter snorts a laugh in the valley of your breasts as your cheeks heat up, and leaves a kiss in your forehead before withdrawing from you.

“I hear your orders loud and clear, Princess. Snacks coming up pronto!” he quips, helping you up and off the table to pull your back to his chest, peppering little kisses from your temple to shoulders while you both waddle to the spread of pancakes and fruit Hunter got ready while you bathed.

“Oh, so now I’m only your princess? Minutes ago, I was your queen.” You tease, reaching for a piece of fruit, “I’m appalled at how easily you demote me, Sergeant.”

“My oh my, how could I ever make it up to you?” he rumbles in your ear, snatching your fruit at the last moment and popping it inside his mouth. You gasp, turning around to look at a smirking, unrepentant Hunter. Oh, he is asking for it.

“I do happen to have a few ideas, but we’ll need the whipped cream and a bed this time. Get it ready for us, will you?” You say as you leave his embrace and look for what is needed. “Oh, and Hunter?”

“Hm?”

“That was ten. I do expect to find you waiting and ready when I enter the bedroom.”

“… Yes, ma’am.” You don’t need enhanced eyesight to notice the way he shudders, steps hastening as he practically scampers the rest of the way.

“Dark and Broody, Mopey… You two will be going on this one alone.” Cid points at you and Hunter.

That’s what Cid calls you, Mopey. Even though she’s known you your whole life and absolutely knows your name. You moped about Hunter to her one time and now the name has stuck.

“What?” You and Hunter ask, simultaneously and then look at each other uncomfortably.

Crossing your arms, you glare. “We don’t do alone missions.” 

“That’s not my problem. I need a couple who won’t stick out too much.” Cid starts to walk away toward her office, knowing you’ll follow. “It’s easy. In and out. Get the drive. Bam. You’re done.”

“A couple?” Hunter asks, still trying to catch up. 

“Yeah, a couple. Ever heard of the word?” Cid sits at her desk, rummaging through her drawers. “Two people who are together.”

“We aren’t together, though.” Hunter glances at you as you lean in the doorway with crossed arms, looking at you as if you have some sway here.

You’ve known Cid your whole life. She apparently used to run with your mom back in the day and when your mom passed, Cid took you in. She looks up at you, knowingly and you shake your head, walking out so you can leave Hunter to argue with her. It was a lost cause arguing with her. You learned that long ago. 

“Good luck.” Echo tells you, smirking from the bar. 

You flip him off and then look to make sure Omega wasn’t watching. Thankfully, she and Wrecker are in a heated Dejarik game while Tech watches over Wrecker’s shoulder. You can’t help but be grateful for this little group that you and Cid found a year ago. 

“You know, you’re pacing.” You tell Hunter from the co-pilot’s seat as the ship travels through hyperspace.

It’s quiet without the rest of the Batch, you notice. Too quiet. It occurs to you how little time you and Hunter have been around each other without any of the others around. 

“Yeah. And?” He snips.

You prop your feet up in the seat in front of you, your dress slipping up to your thigh slightly. He looks down only for a second and walks off to the bunks to do something. With a roll of your eyes, you pull up your datapad and send off a message to Echo.

You: He’s impossible.

Echo: What do you want me to do about it? 

You: Just complaining I guess?

Echo: You mean being mopey?

You: Fuck you.

Echo: LOL

You sigh and toss your datapad back into the seat, groaning in frustration.

“What is it?” Hunter stands in the doorway.

“Nothing.” You turn your seat around to look out at the blue hues of hyperspace. 

“Right…” Hunter disappears again until right before you come up on Coruscant. 

“So the plan-” Hunter stands in front of you when you land.

“I know the plan.” You stare up at him.

“Right. Okay then.” He sighs as he hands you your ear piece, giving you a curious look as he stares down at you.

“Okay.” You nod and open the hatch.

You leave the ship together, coming up on the speeder that one of Cid’s people left for you. He looks at the speeder bike. 

“Don’t even think about it.” You grumble and point at your outfit. “Dress, remember?” 

He chuckles. “Right.”

With a slight roll of your eyes, you get in the passenger side of the speeder. As he takes off, you try your hardest to not look at him in his nice outfit. He’s wearing a dark red collared shirt, the top two buttons undone, slightly revealing his tattooed chest, dress pants, and a gold chain you didn’t know he had. 

You find yourself wanting to ask him about the chain and about the tattoo that was clearly a continuation of the half skull on his face. You’re tempted to question him if it goes all the way down… 

“What?” Hunter picks up on your staring.

You go warm in the face instantly and look out your side of the speeder as he continues to drive. “Nothing.” He chuckles. “If you say so.”

Arriving at the casino, Hunter starts to get out but you stop him, leaning on the edge of the door. “What are you doing? Keep the speeder running in case I run into trouble. Thought you’ve done this before?” You smirk.

“I have.” He scowls at you. “You’re gonna go in alone, dressed like that?” 

You raise your eyebrows. “Really? We’re gonna have this conversation?” 

He thinks about it for a second. “Look… I know you can handle your own-”

“Great, then I’ll see you in a few minutes. Keep it running, I’ll be in and out.” You ignore him and walk away into the casino. 

“Nothing wrong with backup, you know?” He grumbles in your ear as you walk up the steps to the second floor.

“Hush.” You tell him, smiling at the coat check person, politely.

You can feel some eyes on you as you walk onto the casino floor. 

“You’re breathing heavily.” Hunter complains in your ear on the comm as you make your way through the casino full of people. 

“No I’m not.” You roll your eyes. “You just have supersonic hearing.” 

He chuckles. “I think you mean ultrasonic.”

“Maker, you’ve been hanging around Tech too much.” You shake your head to yourself.

Stars, why does his voice sound like that? It sounds like pure sex and it feels like he’s practically purring in your ear. And it’s going right to your-

“You good?” His voice pulls you out of your thoughts.

“Yep.” You take a wine glass off a waitresses tray and gulp it down in one go, trying not to think about what Hunter’s voice does to you.

“Please try not to get wasted.” He warns you.

“How did you know-” You put the empty glass on a passing tray and keep moving through the crowd of people who were clearly rich and well off. 

“‘Supersonic’ hearing, remember?” He teases, lightly. “You… ahem… swallow loudly.” 

He coughs and you try to not think about what he could be thinking of. 

“Focus, Sarge.” You smirk, just trying not to argue with him for once. It’s really not a secret that you two don’t really see eye to eye, but that’s not your problem. It’s his. He’s the one who always starts the arguments. Like now, complaining about your breathing and your swallowing. If anyone deserved to complain, it’s you. You’re in this ridiculously snug dress and stupid heels and you’re ready to peel them off. 

“Miss?” You hear a man’s voice behind you.

When you turn around, you find a handsome, young gentleman with a blue scarf that you’d been looking for. He’s supposed to be the one who gives you the drive. 

“Hi. Luc?” You smile.

Easy mission, thankfully. In and out just like you told Hunter, making him wait out in the speeder. 

“That’s me.” He grins. “They didn’t tell me that a beautiful woman was supposed to be meeting me. Could I buy you a drink first?”

You try to not roll your eyes as you keep a fake smile plastered on your face. 

“Wow. What a tool.” Hunter’s voice fills your ear.

“That’s alright, thank you. Just the drive please.” You start to hand out your hand.

“Pity… Well in that case, I’m supposed to tell you,” He suddenly pulls a blaster out, keeping it low. “Cad Bane sends his regards.” 

Kriff. Of course.

Acting quickly, you shove his hand away at the same time that he releases the trigger, sending blaster fire up into the air. You elbow him in the throat, making him double over in pain, gasping for breath, as you try to knock the blaster out of his hand. Suddenly, more blaster fire starts coming your way and you realize you’ve been set up.

All around you people scream as they scramble for safety in the casino.

“What’s happening?” Hunter’s voice is in your ear, panicked.

“Don’t worry about it. Keep the speeder running.” You grunt as you make for the balcony across the room, just hoping your heels hold up, pulling one of your blasters out and shooting at the people that are shooting at you.

“Don’t worry about it, she says, as blaster fire is literally firing around her.” Hunter mutters. 

“Will you please shut up?” You snap as you start to climb over the side of the balcony, shooting toward the top of the building. 

You look down for Hunter in the speeder but see him on a speeder bike instead.

“Where’s the speeder?” You yell.

“This is quicker!” He calls back.

With an annoyed groan, you stick your blaster back into your thigh holster and slide down the rope landing in Hunter’s lap, straddling his thighs while facing him. He lets out an ‘oof’ and takes off as people come running out of the lobby, shooting at the two of you.

“You could have let me climb off to get behind you.” You glare.

“No time. Hold on.” He revs the bike and starts going even faster through the undercity of Coruscant, causing you to press yourself to his chest. 

You roll your eyes. “We were set up.”

“Yeah, no kriff.” Hunter rests his chin on your shoulder so you can see.

It almost feels natural… having him against you. You quickly push that thought away as you go to argue with him again. 

“You know what-” You’re cut off as you realize people in speeders are after you, still shooting at you. 

“A little help here would be nice.” He grunts, taking a sharp turn, trying to buy you some time so you can grab your blasters. 

“Yeah, yeah. I’m on it.” You pull your blasters out of both thigh holsters. 

When you try to situate yourself so you can shoot better, you only realize you accidentally brush up against Hunter’s crotch when he lets out a soft groan. 

“Sorry…” You try. “Just shoot.” He says, through gritted teeth.

You immediately start to take out each shooter, precisely hitting each person so well that you can’t help but let out a chuckle.

“Crosshair would be so proud of me right now.” You compliment yourself.

“I’m sure.” Hunter grumbles as he shoots through an alley and then takes a hard right up into some sort of abandoned warehouse. When he thinks the coast is clear, he finally leans back, breathing heavily. You can’t even tease him about it, because your chest is heaving against his. With the deep glare that he’s giving you, his hate for you becomes evident. 

“You know, you may hate me… and still not trust me… but I’m not going anywhere. You’re stuck with me for the long haul.” You shrug, tucking your blasters back into your holsters. 

“I don’t hate you.” He rolls his eyes.

“Then why-” You start but he crushes his lips to yours, shutting you up. 

Every nerve ending in your body stands straight up and you fight between the urge to shove him off of you and also wanting more of him. Wrapping your arms around his neck, you pull him closer and he grips your hips, grinding you against his hardened length, straining in his pants. 

“You feel what you do to me?” He rasps against your lips, his voice full of need. “So, I don’t hate you, I’m-”

Without another word, your hands fall down to his zipper and pull his length free. His sentence is cut off as you rest your foreheads together, watching your hand expertly start to pump his cock. He’s thicker than you imagined he’d be. You’re definitely not complaining though.

“Fuck, mesh’la…” He groans, gripping your hips tighter. 

The rumble of the speeder sends vibrations to your core and you can’t help the wetness that gathers in your panties, begging to coat Hunter’s perfect cock. 

You raise up slightly, moving your panties to the side as you sink down on him and he lets out an incredibly loud groan while he grips you so tightly that you know you’re going to bruise. Maybe that’s what he’s going for. To remind you of today, no matter what happens when you get back to Ord Mantell. 

You let out a soft gasp when his hands roam down to your ass and start to raise you up just to pull you back down onto his cock harshly. You’d been lying to yourself… You don’t hate him. You want Hunter just as bad, if not more. 

He pulls your body flush against his, kissing your shoulder. “Been waiting for so long for this.” 

You can’t help the needy whimpers that escape your lips for this man. The two of you had been fighting your urges for so long that you’d been convinced you hated each other. But now… 

“Feels so fucking good… So perfect… made for me.” Hunter babbles incoherently and you grind against him as much as you can. You pull away to make sure you’re not slipping but he grips your chin and pulls your gaze back to his own. “Keep your eyes on me. I’ve got you, you’re not going anywhere.”

And fuck, if that isn’t the hottest thing a man’s ever said to you…

He takes your fingers and pulls them to his mouth, taking them in his mouth. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire. He knows exactly what he’s doing because he smirks around your digits before guiding your fingers down to your clit. 

“Fuck… Hunter.” You groan, keeping your eyes on him, lips parted as the sounds echo off the metal walls of the warehouse as you rub your clit for him. 

“That’s it, mesh’la… need you to cum for me so I can fill this pretty little cunt up.” He whispers gruffly and you nearly come apart just at those words alone. “If… if that’s okay with you.”

“Please.” You gasp with a desperate nod.

You’d never known Hunter had this side to him. Sure you called him dark and broody as a joke, but this was something else entirely. He’s looking at you with such voracity, that you don’t think there’s any coming back from it. You want him to look at you this way forever. 

Pulling Hunter back in for a kiss so vehement, while still rubbing your clit, you near your edge. Your mind goes back to what he was saying earlier about not hating you. He didn’t give you a reason for acting the way he did.

“Hunter…” You whimper.

“What?” He rests his forehead against yours, still fucking you amorously. 

When he looks at you, it’s with such a softness that you can’t help but melt. 

“What…” You groan as he pushes you back on the speeder, reaching deeper into you with his cock. “What were you going to say… you don’t hate me… and?” 

“Right now?” He asks, looking down between you with a breathless chuckle. 

You nod as that familiar heat pools toward your warmth. “As… good a time… as any, right?” 

The way he’s fucking you is absolutely ethereal. You don’t think you could go back to how things were before even if you wanted to. And you definitely don’t want to, right?

“Maker…” He grits with a breathy chuckle as you clench around him. “I’m- fuck… I’m in love with you, okay?” 

As if that’s all you needed to hear, you cum, making his name sound like an entire prayer. Because that’s what coming around Hunter’s cock feels like. Absolutely spiritual. 

He grins down at you and pulls you back up into his lap, wrapping his arms around you, fucking into you mercilessly, overwhelming both of you. 

When his hips falter as he grips your sides, digging his fingers into you as he fills you up so fully that you spill out over the both of you. You can’t help but let out a soft laugh and then he lets one out as well.

“If I knew you’d react like that when I declared my love for you, I would’ve done it sooner.” He winks and you playfully slug him. 

“You’re very lucky I don’t actually hate you.” You lean in closely and the breath in his throat hitches.

“I’ll say.” He agrees before crushing his lips to yours.

Neither of you are sure what’s next for you, but you’re already feeling more hopeful. Maybe it’ll help that you won’t be arguing for once when you break the news to Cid that the mission failed. 

“I uh… actually wanted to show you something while we’re on Coruscant.” He coughs, awkwardly. 

“Okay?” You look at him curiously.

He grins as he helps you off the bike to sit behind him again. You feel the slight run of cum start to drip down your thigh. 

“Oh…” You look down and Hunter looks at your thighs as well, his grip on the handlebars tightening. 

“Do you want to run by the ship and clean up before I show you the surprise?” He smirks.

“Please.” You nod, going warm in the face as you hop on the back of the bike. “I’d also like to change. These heels are the worst.” 

He chuckles and relaxes into you when you wrap your arms around his waist and then takes off back toward the Marauder. It’s a strange feeling being so close to him after having so much distance between the two of you the past year. 

“So, what is it with you and speeder bikes?” You ask him, resting your chin on his shoulder.

He shrugs. “I don’t know.”

“Yes you do.” You start to release his waist but he quickly grabs your arms and pulls them against him again. 

“I’ve always wanted one. Since I saw one of the Alpha’s with one on Kamino when I was, you know, a “kid”.” He admits with a shrug.

“That’s sweet.” You kiss his shoulder. “We’ll get you one, one day.” 

He pulls one of your hands up to his lips and kisses it and you can’t help but smile.

When you pull back up to the Marauder, Hunter helps you off the bike, like a gentleman.

“Didn’t know you had such a sweet side to you.” You tease as he pulls you against himself, looking down into your eyes with his own warm brown ones. 

He smirks as he kisses you again. “Maybe we can shower… together… before I take you to that surprise.”

You find yourself desperate to have his mouth somewhere else.

“Yes please, Sarge.” You wrap your arms around him and he starts to lift you up but pauses as his ears perk up toward the Marauder and then pulls away to grab one of your blasters out of your holster, pointing it toward the hatch. 

“Hunter, what is it?” You whisper. 

All of a sudden, you hear a blaster shot come out from behind you and feel a bolt of electricity travel throughout your body. By the time you drop, you realize it’s too late and you’ve been stunned. The last thing you see before you pass out is Hunter going into attack mode.

You don’t know how you’ll survive another night.

The Havoc Marauder had come to rest in the pleasant evening air of some forest world after a long day of battle. Rarely do you and the boys get to enjoy such a beautiful night during this war; you sit in the ship’s cockpit, the gangplank open to allow the cool air into the vessel, and you chat about whatever comes to mind. As usual, Wrecker and Tech are the most talkative, and you’re happy to listen.

Although, admittedly, you don’t listen as closely as you normally would. As has been the case for a few days now, you find yourself… distracted. Years of training at the Jedi Temple have pushed you to overcome your baser instincts, and though such a feat never came easily, you’ve managed for so long. But every now and then, it would become too much to bear.

Try as you might to ignore it, to focus instead on the bright smiles and warm laughter of your friends, your mind fixes solely on the burning heat between your thighs.

When Wrecker smacks the back of your chair hard, you’re ripped from your thoughts and back to reality. Something has gotten your traveling companions in a fit of amusement—though what, you haven’t a clue.

“What do you think, General?” Wrecker’s gruff voice booms. “I say Tech’s got his goggles on too tight if he thinks I can’t wrestle a rancor!”

“I did not say you would be unable to,” Tech quickly interjects. “I merely noted that the odds of us encountering a situation that would require wrestling a rancor are slim, to put it generously.”

A wide grin spreads on your lips, and you pray they can’t see the heat beneath your face.

“If the Republic isn’t assigning us missions where wrestling rancors is a requirement, I’m not sure why we’re even fighting this war,” you tease, eliciting a roar of laughter from Wrecker.

“You got that right!” he chimes.

From across the cockpit, Echo scoffs.

“You’d better hope the Seppies don’t add rancors to their ranks,” he mutters. “The droids are already bad enough…”

“If Wrecker thinks he can handle it, why not?” Crosshair smirks.

As the men begin to chatter, you find your thoughts turning inward once more—or downward, more specifically. This tension has been building within you for days now, and no amount of meditating or distraction has offered reprieve. Your body aches, begging to be touched, and all you can do is wait. Sharing a cramped ship with five men has never been your ideal living condition, but you could tolerate it. When you felt like this though—when you neared the brink of insanity from how desperately you craved something to fill you—life on the Havoc Marauder turned from tolerable to torturous.

Again, the men erupt in laughter over some remark you missed entirely. Awkwardly, you cross your legs, the friction from your movement causing your body to tense up. A shaky sigh passes your lips. Maybe tonight, you could find the courage to do something. With the state you’re in, you haven’t been getting much sleep, anyhow. Perhaps in the dark of night, while everyone else got their rest, you could have your release…

Abruptly, the movement of one of your men catches your eye. It’s Hunter—he shoots to his feet, startling you out of your thoughts. He had been so quiet all night that you’ve nearly forgotten his presence—not helped by the way he seemed to brood in the darker corners of the ship. He treads wordlessly through the ship, suiting up with a few scant pieces of gear over his blacks.

“Something wrong, Hunter?” Echo asks.

Hunter can’t even meet his brother’s eyes, shaking his head with a stern frown.

“Just need to clear my head,” he mutters. He passes through the cockpit, not dignifying any of you with his gaze he heads to the gangplank. “I’ll be back.”

With that, he descends into the night, leaving the rest of you utterly perplexed.

The conversation takes a moment to start again, leaving Wrecker to break the odd silence.

“...what’s with him?” he asks, earning a collective shrug from the room.

“I don’t know,” Echo mutters, “but he seems… testy, these past few rotations.”

Tech tilts his head, already back to his datapad. “This is not entirely unusual. Hunter’s heightened senses often lead him to seek isolation. I’d say the only one of us worse is Crosshair.”

The sniper in question growls, plucking the toothpick he holds in his mouth to flick at his brother.

Standing to your feet and ignoring your aching core, you smile.

“I can go check on him,” you offer. “I think I could use the fresh air, anyway. But don’t stop having fun on our account, okay?”

You flash Wrecker a smile as you head to the door, and he obliges you with a laugh.

“We won’t! Trust me!”

With a final wave goodbye, you head out into the night. The chill in the deep forest does wonders to calm you, though the heat nagging in your stomach does not entirely abate. Gently, you reach out into the Force, finding Hunter’s signature with ease. You meander along the trail he left, taking your time in hopes of giving him whatever space he seeks. You have no interest in troubling him; just ensuring that he doesn’t have something else on his mind that he’s reluctant to reveal.

Though maybe you’re just projecting, you think bitterly to yourself.

You emerge into a beautiful clearing, more picturesque than any holo you’d ever seen in the Temple. A lake expands over the horizon, waves rippling and glittering in the light of the moons above. From the treeline to the lakebed, a myriad of wildflowers dance on the breeze.

It all looks so perfect, leading a very sour Hunter to stand out more than you ever thought possible.

Your sergeant leans against a tree trunk, body tense as he spins his vibroblade around and around in his hand. When you approach him, he stiffens, despite his best efforts to appear casual.

“Hey,” you smile, voice soft to match the quiet of the night. “I thought you might want some company.”

Hunter manages a half smirk, tilting his head to acknowledge you wordlessly. With every step closer to him, you feel his heart rate spike in the Force. What is going on with him?

“I just figured I should check in on you. You seem really tense these past few days…” you note. 

Only when you look up at him, finding him awkwardly avoiding your gaze, do you realize you’d come to a stop far closer to him than you intended to. The nearness you share does little to quell the heat throbbing inside of you, but you stifle it down as best you can.

Hunter struggles for a moment, lips parting and closing as he searches for what to say. After a long silence, he sighs, meeting your gaze at last.

“It, er… it’s you,” he confesses.

Worried, you tilt your head.

“What about me?” you ask. “Did I do something?”

Your ignorance of the matter seems to work Hunter up even further. He shifts his weight from one leg to the other, awkwardly tapping the armor on his thigh to shake off his nerves. You can’t say you’ve ever seen him so out of his element.

“I… know what you’ve been going through these past few days,” he explains. He gestures awkwardly up and down your body. “I can sense it. It’s, well…” He huffs. “...distracting.”

You think for a moment, still unsure of what he means. But something in the way his eyes find yours conveys exactly what he’s trying to say.

He knows about the way you’ve been feeling lately. He knows…

Immediately, your face burns. Your eyes fall to the ground, and shame rises in your throat. You think about just how many hours you’ve spent these past few days, thinking the filthiest thoughts and riling yourself up without any hope of reprieve—and knowing now that Hunter could sense every second of it…

“...oh,” you breathe, quiet as a mouse droid.

You meekly catch Hunter’s gaze one more time, but the grimace he wears drives your eyes away immediately. Stars, you just want to run and hide… How could you have been so stupid? Hunter can sense a disturbance entire klicks away; you really thought he couldn’t smell your desperation?

A million thoughts race through your mind—a million different ways to apologize. Should you apologize? What if that just makes the situation even more awkward? Maybe you should forget you ever asked, but you don’t want him to think you don’t care about his feelings…

Before you can fully spiral into hypotheticals, you hear a sharp sigh from Hunter’s lips. Your eyes land on him again. His eyes are shut as he pinches the bridge of his nose, shaking his head in disbelief.

“Do you… need… help?”

If your heart had been racing before, it’s jumped to lightspeed now. 

“...what?” you ask.

“Look,” Hunter grunts, “until you’re… taken care of… I won’t be able to focus. I’ve barely gotten any sleep these past nights; it’s… overwhelming.”

He tucks away his vibroblade, the hilt snapping against the sheathe with a satisfying click. When he takes a step closer, now looming over you, the need deep within you flares like a star. Judging by the way his body tenses—how his hands ball into tight fists—you know he can tell. 

He raises a shaky hand, setting it on your cheek. His touch burns on your skin. You want nothing more than for him to ignite you.

“Do you want me to take care of you?” he growls.

His gaze has you paralyzed. You fear to even breathe, worrying that the wrong move might shatter this illusion and leave you embarrassed and alone. But you know he would never do such a thing. You trust Hunter with your life… how could you not trust him with this?

Besides—judging by the way he stares at you, hunger in his piercing eyes, you suspect he has a need all of his own.

You nod, and before you can breathe, his lips are on yours.

Hunter’s rough hands explore your body, not at all timid in their desires. They tug at your shirt as his tongue presses against your lips, and you readily grant both of his wishes. His tongue toys with yours while his hands grope at your chest, drawing a pathetic whimper from your lips. So little of his attention already has your head reeling, drowning in delight. The need in your core overwhelms you now, and it seems to spur him on, all the same.

Abruptly, Hunter spins you around, pressing your back against the firm tree trunk. He deftly strips you of your top, tossing it into the dirt. You didn’t care—couldn’t care. You were far more concerned with working his thigh between your legs, desperate for something to relieve the agonizing tension there. Hunter comes to your aid, pressing his thigh against you before he moves his lips to your chest.

Whining his name, you grind your hips against his leg, over and over with no will to stop yourself. When Hunter’s teeth clasp onto your nipple, you gasp, biting your lip to cope with the sensation. He’s quick to release you, though, instead sucking you into his mouth as his hand gropes the other side of your chest.

When he’s had his fill, he pulls away, treating you to another hungry kiss—one that soon parts from your lips and trails down your frame. You stare in awe as he kisses along your sternum, your stomach, before reaching the waistband of your pants and settling onto his knees. With little regard, he tugs your pants down. You help by hurriedly kicking them off, unwilling to waste a moment when the release you crave is so near.

Standing above Hunter in nothing but your panties leaves you vulnerable in a way you’ve never known. But that vulnerability only worsens the throbbing tension inside you. Your body begs you to give in to him, and the overwhelming pleasure mounting in your stomach has you in no mood to disobey.

Hunter’s piercing gaze hangs on you for a moment, before moving to your still-clothed cunt. Your face burns; by now, your panties are completely soaked through, and you have no doubt he can tell. He wraps his hands around your thighs, gently prying them open. When he presses his face between your legs, his mouth and nose just barely putting pressure against your sex, you nearly pass out.

“H-Hunter…” you whimper.

Wordlessly, he breathes you in. Overwhelmed by your desperation, his eyes flutter shut, a ragged exhale crossing his lips.

“Fuck… you’re driving me crazy,” he growls.

Roughly, he hikes one of your thighs onto his shoulder. Before you can even hope to react, he pushes your drenched panties aside and presses himself against your cunt.

Shockwaves rout your entire body, pulsing from your core to your every extremity. Your hands find Hunter’s hair, tugging at his dark locks. He doesn’t mind—that is, if he notices at all. He attends to your aching cunt with unmatched discipline, drinking from you as though you were water after a thousand parched days beneath the Tatooine suns. His lips close around your clit, suckling at it, all the while swirling over it with his tongue.

He laps at you so hungrily that you can barely utter a sound, your whole body tense with the way he works you. Your every mewl catches in your throat, strangled into a breathless whimper. Still, you need more of him, tugging at his scalp and rutting your hips into his face.

“Hunter…!” you gasp. When he groans against you, the vibration sends a shiver up your spine. “Please… I-I need more… please, Hunter…!”

Hunter’s eyes flash up to meet yours. His pupils are blown wide, focused fully on you. Reluctantly, he pries his lips off of you, though not without a parting mark on the soft flesh of your thigh. He wipes his mouth clean with the back of his hand before standing up once more. At his full height now, you quickly recall just how imposing his stature is—and just how badly you wish to experience it.

Supporting your neck with his gloved hand, he leans over you, kissing you deeply. You love the taste of yourself on his lips, tongue toying with his in need of more. When he pulls away, he lingers by your ear.

“Turn around,” he demands.

You swallow hard, nodding and obeying. Once you face away from him, he places his palm between your shoulder blades, pressing your top half against the tree while your hips remain close to him. Carelessly, he slips your panties down your legs, exposing you fully to the cold night air. A low rumble reverberates in his chest as he looks you over; you can practically feel the burn of his eyes on your skin, trailing over every inch of your needy body as you present yourself to him.

He grasps your hip firmly, and with his free hand trails his fingers along your cunt. You gasp, body reacting fiercely to even so light a touch.

“Kriff… you’re so wet,” he remarks, his low voice doing little to help matters. “Have you been like this all week?”

You nod, desperation written on your features.

“Mm-hm,” you murmur. “Please, Hunter… I-I need you.”

He smacks your ass, earning a startled moan from you. Taking a step back, he quickly shuffles off his gear and his blacks, with you watching him over your shoulder all the while. When his cock is finally free of his pants, you nearly drool. He’s already so achingly hard… your cunt clenches around nothing, hopeless at the need to be filled by him.

When he spots you staring, an awful smirk forms on his lips. He closes the distance between you, leaning over you and pressing his chest to your back. You arch against him, hips grinding against his with overwhelming need. Stopping briefly to mark your neck, Hunter’s lips settle at your ear.

“I’m going to ruin you,” he growls.

You mewl, utterly and hopelessly his. “Please…”

With one last kiss on your shoulder, Hunter lines himself up with your slick entrance. When he pushes into your aching cunt, your eyes light with stars.

His hips persist, splitting you open until he’s buried to the hilt. His hard cock twitches inside of you, hitting that sweet spot deep inside. When you flex around him, he hisses through his teeth.

“Fuck, your little cunt is so tight,” he rasps. “I don’t think you’re ever gonna let go of me…”

Hunter’s thick cock overfills and overwhelms you, straining your walls to their limit as he thrusts deeper into you. His hands keep your hips in a vice grip, not allowing you to challenge his excruciatingly slow pace. He bottoms out inside of you, then pulls out, dragging himself along your walls. When he’s finally free of you, he repeats the process, sheathing himself again. Your wetness engulfs his every thrust, with more than enough to spill down your thighs as he tortures you.

“Hunter!” you beg, voice wavering as he strikes deep inside you again. “Please, go faster…!”

Breathless, Hunter chuckles.

“What, you want more?” he purrs through a smirk. He smacks your ass again, and you cry out. “You want me to fill up this needy little cunt?”

Before you can answer, his hips collide with yours, reducing your words to a moan.

“Say it,” he demands.

“Yes! F-Fill me up,” you beg. “Fuck… I’m gonna lose my mind…!”

“Heh… now you know how I feel,” he mutters. As he picks up his pace, he groans, biting into the tender flesh on your shoulder. “Ah, kriff… I just might lose my mind, anyway.”

Hunter pounds into you, sending you spiraling with every relentless thrust. Though you had begged for him to take you harder, faster, you feel thoroughly unprepared for the way he fucks you. With how close you’ve grown to him, you find it easy to forget sometimes that he isn’t just a man. He’s a soldier—a supersoldier—and you’ve never been more aware of that than right now.

Hunter leans in close to your ear, pulling you out of your thoughts.

“You’re being a bad girl,” he growls. “A Jedi getting fucked by a clone? What would the Council say?”

To your utmost surprise, your face burns like a starship engine. You bite back a whimper, though the way you squeeze around Hunter’s cock does not go unnoticed. Through shaky breaths, he chuckles.

“You like that?” he asks, half inquiring and half observing.

Biting your lip, you nod. “Mm-hm…”

He interrupts his pace with a pointedly rough thrust, forcing a mewl from your lips. One of his hands moves from your hips to your throat, pulling you into him and trapping your back against his chest. You feel so defenseless, so exposed… you can’t say which has your head lighter: the way his fingers put the faintest pressure on your neck, or the shame of your actions. You suppose it doesn’t matter which—both are merely driving you higher and higher.

“Maybe we should call them,” Hunter continues, “let them watch their perfect little Knight getting fucked like a whore on Daiyu.”

Your eyes shoot wide. If he merely hopes to rile you up with such a statement, he succeeds.

“N-No!” you utter, emphatically shaking your head. You hear Hunter’s breathy laughter behind you before he picks up his already breakneck pace, his body smacking against yours so forcefully that the skin on your thighs and ass begins to sting.

“I think you’re right,” he grunts, his labored breath tickling your ear. “I think I’ll keep you all to myself.”

At that moment, you want nothing more. Your eyes are rolling back in your head, mouth agape as the tension mounts inside of you.

“You belong to me,” he growls. “You belong to this cock.”

You can barely form a lucid thought, so very close to reaching euphoria.

“Yes!” you whine. “Yes, Hunter!”

As he forces you over your peak, your vision goes white. Your orgasm thrashes through your body, tearing a moan from your lips. Your cunt shudders around his cock, overflowing with wetness and burning up inside. He reaches deeper inside of you than he ever could before, striking your sweet spot again and again, drawing your ecstasy out to a maddening duration.

“Fuck,” Hunter groans. “Fuck me, you’re so fucking tight!”

Try as you might to call his name, you can only babble, rendered absolutely cock-dumb by the man fucking you. By now, your entire body is covered in a slick of sweat and flush with heat. You struggle to stand, quivering legs barely able to hold your weight. From the way his body trembles around you, Hunter isn’t faring much better. But evidently, he still hasn’t had his fill of you.

Hunter doesn’t let up, thrusting fervently into your abused, throbbing cunt. Your eyes begin to well with tears, head swimming with arousal far too much to bear. Your head lolls back, cheek pressing against Hunter’s. Despite the way he fucks you within an inch of your life, his hand moves from your neck to your face, gently cradling you as he dots a kiss on your lips.

“Think you’ve got one more in you?” he rasps, pressing a lazy kiss on your ear.

Though you hesitate, you eventually answer with a weary nod. With a loud moan, Hunter sinks his fingers into your hip so hard you fear your skin might bruise. The hand he holds on your face slips down between your legs, drawing tight circles around your swollen clit.

“Come on my cock, beautiful,” he breathes. “Come on my cock one more time, and I’ll fill this pretty pussy up with cum.”

Though you can barely hear him over the ringing in your ears, his words push you over the edge. With the only pathetic whimper your hoarse throat can manage, you come once more, cunt spasming around Hunter’s length.

Thankfully, Hunter isn’t far behind you this time. Just as he promised, when you finish around him, he spills his hot cum inside of you, filling you so much that it quickly begins to seep from between your legs. He keeps his length inside of you, managing one or two more thrusts before he begins to soften.

The only sounds you hear now are the two of you gasping for air and the gentle lap of the lake against the shore. As all your adrenaline subsides, your legs threaten to give out underneath you. But before you can topple over, Hunter catches you, holding you around your waist.

“Easy there,” he warns, a chuckle buried in his words. You look up at him, finding a flustered smile on his lips—every sign of that dirty-talking casanova gone from his eyes. Clearing his throat awkwardly, he asks, “Are you… feeling better?”

You narrow your eyes at him, raising an eyebrow.

“Are you really asking me that?” you smirk. Though it’s hard to see through his tanned skin, you swear Hunter’s cheeks darken. “Yes. I’m feeling much better… thanks to you.”

Hunter grins, resting his forehead gently against yours.

“Yeah… I’m feeling better, too,” he sighs. “Sorry for being short with you before.”

“Sorry for driving you up a wall all week,” you giggle.

Hunter smirks. Gently, he lifts you up in his embrace, tucking one arm under your legs and the other under your back. When you meet his eyes, he tilts his head towards the beautiful lake illuminated in the moonlight.

“Why don’t we wash up?” he suggests. 

With a heavy sigh of contentment, you nod. “That sounds wonderful.”

As Hunter carries you to the water, you smile softly, closing your eyes and resting your head on his chest.

“By the way… I think we need to have a discussion about your language, Sergeant,” you tease him.

He chuckles, placing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I’ve been reprimanded for worse,” he shrugs.