#valentinewritesbs

The cockpit was quiet and peaceful when you were the only one awake. Scorch never liked the silence. He had told Sev that when he was still and alone, his thoughts grew too loud, but Sev didn’t mind being the one up late to make sure the ship stayed on course without incident. Sure, he was tired and his muscles ached from being in the heat of battle for days without end, but Boss would be up to relieve him soon. For now, he got to cherish his time alone and enjoy the view that being in hyperspace gave him.

The door behind him hissed open.

“Trouble sleeping?” Sev asked. Boss wasn’t supposed to be up for another hour.

“How can anyone sleep with Fixer snoring louder than the engines?”

Sev turned to look, not at Boss, but at Scorch. His brother crossed his arms and leaned against the control panel. Fixer’s snores were as annoying to Scorch as Boss’s gravely cough had been to Sev the last couple of missions. At least gargling bacta could keep their Sergeant’s coughs at bay for some time. Fixer’s sinuses didn’t care if he drank the entire container, his snores weren’t going away anytime soon.

“Plan H240.” Scorch shot a mischievous smile at his brother. “I’m doing it.”

“He’s going to kill you.” Sev shook his head and fought down the smile trying to creep onto his face. Plan H240 had always just been a joke, but he couldn’t say that he hadn’t thought about seriously doing it himself.

“You can keep my helmet to remember me by,” he snorted and headed for the door. “What do you think would be big enough to use?”

Sev cast one last look out the viewport to make sure everything still looked fine before following Scorch. This was something he didn’t want to miss. He could already hear the sound that elicited Scorch’s loathing before they had even made it to the bunks. The almost perfect repetition of it echoed softly around them. He almost felt bad for his older brother. It wasn’t like Fixer was doing it on purpose, and sleep was such a rare and precious thing to all of them, but his curiosity to how it would all play out kept him from stopping what was about to happen.

Scorch rummaged around as quietly as he could until he pulled out a medium sized jug that he waved in the air triumphantly then headed for the ‘fresher. Light spilled across the floor as the door opened. Boss shifted in his sleep, his breathing hitching for just a moment before resuming it’s steady, deep pace. Sev shot a quick look at the two sleeping Commandos as the sound of water flowing from the tap whispered its way toward him. Waking any Commando suddenly was dangerous. Waking them this way was unfathomable…. And they called him psycho. They all needed to take a harder look at Scorch.

Water sloshed over the edge of the jug slightly as Scorch moved silently across the room. Sev felt like he was watching a large beast stalk its prey through thick underbrush. He hesitated as he loomed over Fixer’s sleeping form. His eyebrows knitted together. His teeth dug into his bottom lip. For a moment, Sev thought that Scorch had changed his mind.

Until the water made contact with Fixer’s face.

The Commando jolted upward, his head hitting the top of the bunk. Scorch jumped back instantly. Sev inhaled sharply through his teeth.

“Kriff!” Fixer shouted, grabbing his forehead.

“What’s going on?” Boss was awake.

Fixer stood up, water dripping from his body and falling to the durasteel floor like rain. Sev knew that Fixer was just as lethal as the rest of them. He had seen his brother kill on several occasions, and he also knew that Fixer preferred hands-on combat with a melee weapon better than anything else, and right now, Sev found himself grateful that Fixer was only in his blacks.

“What the kark is wrong with you?” he shouted when spotted the empty jug in his brother’s hands. Fixer slammed his palms roughly against Scorch’s chest. “Are you out of your damn mind?”

Boss stepped between the two and nodded toward the ‘fresher. “Go dry off.”

His tone left little room for argument, but Fixer didn’t move instantly. He only stood there glaring into his younger brother’s eyes as if trying to rip out his soul through his eye sockets. Boss stood unwaveringly between them until Fixer turned away and disappeared through the door of the ‘fresher before turning to look at the smug grin on Scorch’s face.

“What the hell possessed you to do that?” Boss asked, folding his arms across his chest. His face was set in the ‘no-nonsense, serious boss’ look that he used mostly when dealing with Jedi.

Scorch shrugged. “C’mon, Boss. Don’t act like you’re not tired of his snoring too.”

Boss narrowed his eyes. “You won’t have to worry about his snoring because after you clean up the water, you get to keep watch in the cockpit for the foreseeable future.”

Fixer’s preference for silence had never bothered you before, but right now, it was unnerving. You’d take anything from him. An irritated huff. A groan of pain. A curse for not being more mindful of thermal detonators being thrown in your direction. You were half tempted to try to comm the other guys again. Maybe, by some miracle, the comlinks weren’t being jammed anymore. Maybe, they were already looking for the two of you.

“This is the last time I’m ever going to be allowed to go anywhere with you guys again,” you joked, trying to lighten the mood. Even though it didn’t really seem possible at the moment.

He didn’t respond. There’s no scoff or annoyed sigh. Just silence.

“Maybe they’ll make a new regulation because of me. A ‘what not to do’ kind of thing.”

He finally looked over at you. The glowing T-visor hid any sign of expression, but you felt his dead-pan stare without having to see his face. You smiled at him anyway. You wish you could see him. The debris around you blocked almost all light and you were jealous of the night-vision of his helmet. He shook his head and then the blue glow moves away from looking at you to past your left side. You wondered if his brothers had been able to reach him. Did they know a way past what was jamming communications? You knew they kept you out of certain conversations and used their secure helmet links more often than not. You weren’t offended. You knew in a lot of ways you were still an outsider even if you were Fixer’s girlfriend. You didn’t know if they’d ever truly stop seeing you as one.

“You should try to tunnel out,” he said.

You shook your head. “No, I’m sure they realize by now that we need help. I’m not going to just leave you here alone.”

Fixer fell quiet again, and something in the strained tone of his voice couldn’t help but make you think that maybe they did contact him. Had they given him bad news? Or maybe it wasn’t his brothers who had been able to make contact but their Clone Advisor. Was Fixer the only remaining member of Delta Squad?

You pushed those thoughts out of your mind. No, Boss and Scorch were fine. You knew they were. They had to be.

Fixer popped the seal of his helmet and pulled it off. “You need to leave me and get out of here. They’re not coming for me.”

You were glad his helmet was off so he couldn’t see the horror stricken look on your face in the darkness around you two.

“What do you mean? You’ve heard from them? Are they injured?”

The questions spilled out in a huge mess of words faster than you could stop them. Fixer inhaled deeply and didn’t respond immediately. Your heartbeat thumped against your sternum erratically. Was anyone going to know you two were here? How many ration bars did you have between the two of you?

“They’re not coming because...” Fixer’s voice was tight and you weren’t sure if it was from the pain settling in or the dread of the next words out of his mouth. Even in the silence, you had to fight to hear him. “I didn’t go back. I told Boss we didn’t need to go back. Scorch still blames me for what happened on Kashyyyk.”

Sev. The unspoken bloodstain in the carpet that Fixer refused to talk about. You always just assumed the grief was too fresh. The wound was too deep to talk about. You knew their missing brother haunted them all. You’d heard Fixer mutter Sev’s name in his sleep. You’d been there to help sooth him after the nightmares. You’d heard from others bits and pieces of what happened that day, but you had never talked about it with the Deltas.

“Fixer, what happened wasn’t your-”

“Wasn’t my fault? Had I taken Scorch’s side…had I agreed with him to go back, we might could have saved him. Sev would have voted to come back for me even if it killed him. He would have died fighting for me, and I just left him.”

You exhaled a shaky breath and tried to find words to say. Any words. But, fierfek’s sake, what do you say to that? Has he been drowning in the weight of guilt all this time all alone? You had known there was tension in the squad after Sev went MIA… but did they really blame Fixer?

“Fixer,” your whispered voice sounds devastatingly loud. “You did what you felt was best in that moment. The one thing you’ve always been good at is separating your emotions from what needs to be done. If you had gone back, you all might have died. Leaving Sev might have been what saved Boss and Scorch.”

His broken inhale shattered your heart. Fixer had never been very emotional. He bottled everything up until it ripped from his body involuntarily in the form of frustration or anger. He’d never cried in front of you. You didn’t know if he’d cried in front of his brothers in recent years.

“I thought he could survive it. I thought he’d send us a transmission with his coordinates,” Fixer sniffled. “Any time our comms are jammed, I have to swallow down panic that he’s not going to be able to reach us. I should be out there fixing it. I should be getting us back online. Instead, I’m stuck here. Failing him again.”

“You’re not failing anyone,” you assured him, feeling your way in the darkness closer to him. You placed your forehead to his and kiss him gently. His face was damp from unseen tears. “We’re going to get out of here, and we can work to get comms back up. We’ll figure it out.”

You feel him nod his head, but he doesn’t say anything else. You hold him close to you, mindful not to injure his leg any worse. His body trembled slightly as he tried to regain control of his emotions. Vau’s boys weren’t supposed to cry. You’d heard Scorch say that before, and you always shut down thoughts of what might have happened to them when they had been children. You didn’t want to know.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you sat there like that. Fixer’s tears had gone, and you felt exhausted. The debris you’d tried to move had made the pile shift. The rubble threatened to collapse and bury you.

It felt like hours before you heard the unmistakable sound of your comm behind you. Grabbing it, you hit the button to answer it, relief flooded your body the moment you heard Boss’s voice. Fixer quickly told his brother the situation you two had found yourselves in.

“Just glad you’re alive.” Boss sounded drained. “When the two of you never showed up at the RV point, we thought the worst…I’m looking at your location now. I think we can cut through the wall behind you and get you out that way. We don’t have to worry about burying you alive then. Stand by. We’re on our way.”

Fixer’s helmet was securely back in place. His breathing was steady and slow again. He took your hand in his and gave it a tight squeeze.

“Thanks.” He almost sounded sheepish. “For not leaving me.”

You laid your head against his shoulder. “The giant wall of debris didn’t give me much choice. But I’d have stayed anyway.”

“I know.”

The days aren’t so hard because you stay busy and work. You can keep yourself distracted easy enough in the busy city, but your nights are cursed with ghosts of him haunting every space around you. The empty caf mug you had purchased for him sits in your cabinet right beside yours. The dark colored pillow on your bed that he claimed has begun to smell less of him and more of you. The blanket that had been haphazardly knocked behind the sofa as he’d kissed you still peeks out from the corner of the furniture. The tiny bit of red paint he’d accidently spilled on your floor while touching up his armor glares up at you like a blood stain. And the bite mark on your shoulder has almost disappeared.

You sigh and run your fingers along where the last little bit of the bite lingers like the rays of a sunset desperately hanging onto the horizon and allow yourself to remember that night.

His breath was warm and sticky as he panted against your neck. Teeth penetrated flesh just enough to bruise and mark you as his. Fingers gripped unforgivably into your hip as a moan ripped from his throat as his climax racked through his body. Light leaked in from your window and bathed him in the neon lights of the world outside, and in their colorful glow, he looked ethereal. Sweat glistened on his skin, and the smile on his face made wish you could keep him here like this forever. Safe. Happy. Sated. Yours.

He ran the pads of his fingers along the bitemark, doubt filling his dark eyes. You had been the one to ask for him to be rougher with you. You wanted him to use his teeth on you, but the dark mark growing on your flesh made him pause. You smiled up at him before brushing your lips against his cheek.

“That was amazing,” you whispered against his skin.

His lips quirked slightly like they did anytime you praised him. You saw the shadows of desperation in his eyes more than you’d ever let him know. That need to be loved. The need to be good for you. The utter desperation to be the best lover and friend you’ve ever had because he’s afraid you’ll change your mind about him.

“You sure?” he asked, staring into your eyes to detect any sign of deception. “I didn’t go too far?”

“It was perfect, Sev,” you reassured him.

He nodded, convinced for the moment.

“I could leave a few more,” he said, eyes glowing mischievously in the dark. “So you don’t forget me while I’m gone.”

A laugh slipped past your lips. “I don’t need bite marks to remember you by. Not that I don’t want them, but you’re very unforgettable.”

“In a good way?” he asked as he rolled off of you and onto his back. He threw his head backward on the dark pillow, exposing the love marked skin of his neck.

“In the best way,” you told him.

He hummed in response. His gaze roamed your face, taking in every detail as if to save every inch of you to his memory.

“You could give me one to match,” he said. His eyes fell back on your shoulder. “A little piece of you that I can take to Kashyyyk with me.”

You wanted to tell him that he always took a piece of you every time he boarded a ship and left for a mission. Somewhere among the ration packs and first aid kit in his backpack was your beating heart that bled uncontrollably until he was safely back in your arms.

“I can do that,” you said instead. “Maybe you’ll be back before it fades completely.”

You pull the blanket around your frame to combat the cold seeping in, and you wonder if he’s thinking of you in those quiet moments when he’s hidden among the trees and foliage. Does he run his fingers along the marks you left on him? You smile at the thought. You had laughed at the way he’d admired your handywork- or well, teeth work- on his skin in the mirror so proudly that night like he’d be awarded a badge of honor or a battle scar to tell the others about.

Your comlink beeps and throws you from your thoughts. Your heart hammers against your sternum the moment he says your name. Sev’s voice warms you faster than anything else in the galaxy ever could. You’re not sure exactly where he is or where he got his hands on a long range comlink, but you don’t care at this moment. His deep voice is a whisper in the dark, and you let it surround you.

“Hi, Mesh’la. I’m coming home to you.”

The tiredness in his voice makes you ache, but it’s so nice to finally hear it again.

“I won your challenge,” he continues. Before you can ask what he’s talking about, he continues, “the mark hasn’t completely faded yet.”

You shake your head even though he can’t see you. “That wasn’t a challenge, Sev. Just a hope that you wouldn’t be gone for too long.”

“I won a personal challenge then.” You can almost see the smirk on his face. He gives an irritated sigh as a garbled voice speaks in the background.

“I can’t talk for long. Fixer is on me about using the comms for personal use. I swear I think he reads the regulation manuals for fun. I just wanted to let you know that I’ll be back soon.”

“I’ll be counting the minutes,” you smile.

“We won’t keep you counting long. I’ll see you soon, Cyar’ika.”

You hear Scorch’s voice in the background and his playful mocking of Sev’s voice before the line disconnects. You fall back onto your bed feeling like you can breathe for the first time in weeks. Sev is alive.

Little bits of carpet dig into your knees causing the slightest burn in your skin that you know will leave small indentions. Your palms are sweaty from how tight your hands are clasped behind your back, but Fixer said you couldn’t touch him until he said so, and you’re nothing if not his good girl. His hand gently cups your jaw. A stark contrast to the absolute force he’s driving his cock down your throat. You moan hungrily around him, saltiness from the precum leaking from his slit hits your tongue, and you revel in the taste of him.

He smirks down at you, dark eyes boring into yours. His naked frame is bathed in the artificial lights of Coruscant, but he glows ethereally all the same. This man who was created to kill and fight and destroy is nothing short of amazing and beautiful, and if you and your body can give him any bit of relief from the chaos he has to endure every day, then you’re more than happy to let him take from you whatever he wants.

“I haven’t even touched you yet, and you’re moaning?” he gives a breathy laugh, and you wonder how he can be so composed while you’re falling apart just from him fucking your mouth. “Do you think about me fucking you when I’m away? Do you touch yourself in the dark and moan my name when you get yourself off? I hope so, or I’ll need to do better.”

A desperate whine escapes your throat as your eyes fall shut at his words. You’ll never admit how often you’ve screamed his name in your empty apartment. Your neighbors probably think he lives here full time as many times as they’ve heard you beg and moan for him.

Fixer pulls himself from your mouth, a trail of spit from the head of his cock to your lips glistens between you. With a jerk of his head, he motions for you to stand. Knees aching and jaw sore, you rise from the floor. His lips meet yours in a crushing kiss, tongue sliding past your lips to dominate your own. Calloused hands grip your hips and guide you backward until your bare skin hits the cold glass of the window. You worry for just a brief moment about the integrity of the glass and if it will hold, but all thoughts of safety disappear as Fixer’s finger glides through your wet folds. You spread your legs a little wider for him as he sinks the digit into you. His mouth trails down your neck, nipping the sensitive skin below your ear.

“You’re already so wet for me, cyar’ika, I could take you right now,” he breathes against the shell of your ear. Goosebumps cover your skin at his words.

“Yesss. Please, please take me,” you beg him. “I’m ready for you.”

The hum he lets out vibrates through your body.

“Not yet. Just a little more.” He adds a second finger to your dripping cunt, and fucks you mercilessly with them. The curl of his fingers within you and the rhythm he’s started has your knees shaking and blood pounding in your ears. Your release builds so quickly that you think it may send you to the floor from the force of it.

But before he can ruin you with his fingers, he pulls them out of you and takes a step back.

“Turn around. Hands on the glass,” he orders. “I want all of Republic City to see who you belong to. I want them the see how good you are for me, how well you take my cock.”

You comply without hesitation and face the cityscape. If the people driving by couldn’t see you before, they will now. You must be quite something to look at. Hands pressed to the glass and your body bent to give him the best angle to enter you. His hand gently traces along the soft skin of your ass before pulling back and giving it a hard smack. The sound echoes around you as you inhale sharply.

“Such a good girl for me, mesh’la. You listen so well.” The praise falling from his mouth is like a drug that you never fail to get high on. “Let’s see if you can keep it up.”

 His fingers dance along your side as he steps directly behind you and rubs the head of his cock along your entrance. Your head drops, eyes on the floor below you at the feel of him teasing you. Gods, you wish he would put it in you already.

“Uh-uh. None of that,” he says, grabbing a handful of your hair and pulling your head back up. “I want them to see your face. I want you to watch them watch you.”

The likelihood that anyone is actually watching the two of you is slim, but you feel like they’re broadcasting all over the city like some big news headline that you’re getting fucked senseless by one of the GAR’s finest.

Pushing the tip of his cock in slowly, he moans in appreciation at the feel of your warmth stretching around him. He rubs soothing circles along your lower back as he waits for you to adjust to the size of him. You’ll never underappreciate how full you feel when he’s in you.

“You good for me to start moving?” he voice sounds strained, and you grin at the thought that he’s just as desperate for you as you are for him.

You nod. “Yes, Fixer, please.”

You catch his cocky grin in the reflection of the glass. He loves when you beg and knows exactly how to get you to make the prettiest of pleas for him. Fixer loves to tease and drag out your orgasms. You remember Sev once saying that Fixer has the most patience because of his skill at slicing. You can’t always blow something up or shoot it. Sometimes it takes a different type of skill, and Force knows that Fixer is good with his hands. You hope he’s not in a teasing mood tonight.

He holds you securely by the waist as he slams into you. Hard. He slides his hand around your front to find your clit and starts a brutal rhythm to match his thrusts into you from behind. The occasional words of praise or grunt are the only noise he makes as the lights of the city blur in front of you. Your warm breath creates little puffs of fog on the window in front of you.

You scream his name like a prayer as your orgasm rips through you like lightning. His fingers continue their merciless dance against your bundle of nerves, and the only thing keeping you standing is the arm he has wrapped around your abdomen.

“I know you have another one in you, cyar’ika,” he pants behind you. “And I’m gonna get out of you.”

Your moan fills the room as you place your hands back on the glass. Fixer plans to make sure you get the full fix of him tonight, and Force do you feel lucky for it.

A sharp sting shoots through your feet and calves when you jump from the top of the box you’d been standing on and land on the hard pavement below. You’ve been out here for over an hour searching and just when you think you’ve got that tooka in your grasp, it bolts. You’ve been working for weeks to gain its trust. You’ve been leaving food out for it and leaving it gifts, but it still eyes you like you’re a predator coming to make it your prey. 

You first caught sight of it on your way home from work several weeks ago. Its pitiful ragged frame hunched over a stack of garbage looking for a meal, and its fur a matted mess. Your first goal was to give it food that wouldn’t potentially harm it like whatever leftovers were thrown out from the bar. After you win its trust, you hoped to get it to the vet and make sure it was okay. 

Finally, after continuously bringing it food and snacks, you were able to get close to it tonight. It still eyed you warily, but it didn’t run. Its big wide eyes stared up at you, teeth bared, but it didn’t lunge. Reaching out toward it, you waited, and slowly…very slowly the tooka moved closer. It leaned toward you just ever so slightly. 

Until a door behind you opened and a loud patron was bodily tossed out of the club and into the alleyway making the tooka run away again.

Now, you were once again moving as quickly as you could through the back alleyways. Its fluffy tail is the last thing you see of it as it rounds the corner of a building, and you run faster to not lose it and smack straight into a wall face first. 

“Kriff!” you shout frustratedly, rubbing your forehead. 

“I could say that, too,” the wall says. “You should watch where you’re going.”

You blink up at what is very obviously not a wall. The orange and purple neon sign above illuminates the man in front of you. The paint on his white and orange armor is chipped and worn and you wonder briefly how much of the war it's seen. His helmet is clipped to his belt. His dark eyes bore into yours and you shift a little under his gaze, and you’d be intimidated if your brain could comprehend anything other than how amazingly gorgeous he is.

“Sorry,” you say, leaning to look around his frame, but your target is nowhere in sight. “There’s this stray tooka that roams around here. I’ve been trying to take it home with me for a while now, but I just can’t ever catch it.”

A guy leaning against the building perks up at your words. “Are you talking about Turbo?” 

A large burn scar covers a portion of the left side of his face, and you quickly avert your eyes to not stare at it. A splotchy patch of dyed blonde almost glows in contrast to his naturally dark hair. 

“Uhm…Turbo?” you ask.

He nods. “Grey and black tooka with spots? Bites. Desperately in need of a bath worse than we were that time when we had to crawl through rotten nerf guts. Super fast. Hence the name.”

The smile on the guy’s face grows at your horrified look. Yes, that does indeed sound like your tooka, but to be honest, you quit listening at ‘rotten nerf guts.’ 

“Why…Why did you crawl in rotten nerf guts?” 

 “It’s not as fun of a story as you’d think,” the guy in orange and white says before the other guy can regale you with the tale. “But the tooka likes to hang out around back near the kitchen doors. It’s not uncommon for the others to feed it. No one can take it back to the barracks with them, but they try to make sure it doesn’t go hungry.”

“Okay, thanks,” you reply. “I’ll check there.”

You hurriedly make your way around them and continue on your way. They must think you’re an idiot. First you run face first into a gorgeous man, stare at him awkwardly, and then tell him ran into him because you were chasing a tooka. Great first impression. Hopefully, they’re right, though, and the tooka…Turbo… will be waiting for one of the clones to bring it food. You almost feel bad taking him now. If the clones here have gotten attached to it, you’d hate to take it from them, but it really does need a safer place to live. You wonder if Turbo is just what these guys named it or if everyone knows it by that name.

“Hey!” a voice yells. You turn to see the orange and white armor clad clone jogging up to you. “Want some assistance? Two sets of hands may be easier to catch him. Plus, clones aren’t the only ones who frequent this bar. None of my brothers will mess with you, but I can’t say the same about anyone else, and you never know who may be back there.”

You mull it over for a moment. It certainly wouldn’t hurt to have assistance, and you hadn’t really thought through how you were actually going to get Turbo back home. Maybe this is a bad idea after all. You should have brought a carrier or something with you to transport him in.

The clone takes your hesitation as rejection to his offer.

“I don’t have to,” he says. “I just thought you may want some help.”

“I’d love some help!” you blurt out a little too quickly. “I..uhm.. I just didn’t think about getting him home is all.”

The guy laughs and shakes his head. “All that running around and you don’t even have a plan once you catch it?”

Your cheeks warm at the sound of his laugh. Not from embarrassment but from how badly you want to be the one to make him laugh again. He crosses his arms across his chest and sighs like he’s trying to devise a plan for you. 

“Maybe we’ll get lucky and it will warm up to you quickly and let you carry it. If not, you could use your jacket to secure its limbs so it doesn’t scratch you or jump out of your arms and run away,” he suggests.

Oh yeah, because you don’t look crazy enough with your hair a mess and your clothes a little more than dirty from crawling and climbing around the alleyways of Coruscant. Add swaddling a tooka and carry it home like a child to the list, and you won’t have to worry about someone trying to attack you on the way home, they’ll be trying to keep their distance from you.

He leads the way toward the back of the building, checking around corners before turning. Is he always on guard? Always waiting for the enemy to be lurking in the shadows waiting to try to kill him? Does he ever have a moment of just peace? 

“I’m Boss, by the way,” he informs you, glancing over his shoulder. 

You tell him your name and how much you appreciate his help but he just shrugs it off like he’s used to helping random civilians sneak around in the dark hunting for tookas. Sure, you don’t know what he does for the GAR, but you’re almost positive it’s not hunting down lost pets. Political leaders and Seperatists are probably more of what he’s used to locating. 

“Do you come around here often?” you ask, shaking the thought of him hunting people down and focusing on the task at hand.

“To Coruscant or to 79’s?” he shoots back.

“Both.”

He shakes his head. “No. My squad doesn’t get shore leave often, but when we’re on Triple Zero, we always try to come to 79’s to eat something that doesn’t taste like sand.”

“That’s a shame,” you reply and try to match his steps so he doesn’t have to keep looking back at you.

“Hoping to see me again?” he jokes, but a small hint of hopefulness tints his words.

“I meant it’s a shame that you don’t get to have a break at being shot at more often,” you explain. “But, I wouldn’t be opposed to seeing you again.”

He smirks a little, obviously pleased with what you said, but he doesn’t respond. It’s almost as if he expected you to fluster and not to flirt back. That can’t be it, though. He has to be used to people flirting with him. He’s too pretty not to draw attention when he goes somewhere. 

It’s considerably darker around the back of the building. You squint to see if you can see any sign of movement to give away Turbo’s position. 

“Ah. Tough luck,” Boss says, looking at you sympathetically. “It looks like Turbo didn’t want to hang around.”

You sigh exhaustedly and lean your back against the building. “So, the chase continues. Maybe this is my sign to give up. Turbo very obviously doesn’t want to come with me.”

Boss scratches the back of neck and stares down into the dark alley almost like if he tries hard enough he can make Turbo appear. If that was true, you’d already have the feral creature.

“I don’t think you should give up,” he says after a moment. “Maybe he’s just not used to strangers being nice to him. Not everyone is as calm and as friendly as you are, and he’s not sure how to take you. He’s probably wanting to have a home and be loved as much as you want to be the one to do that for him.”

The way he says it, you’re not sure if he’s talking about Turbo or himself, but you can’t ask the guy you just met if he wants to be loved and have a home. That’d be weird, and you have a feeling he’d deny it even if he was talking about himself. 

“Maybe…” you agree. “I’ll try again in a few days. At least I have a new place to look. I’m just exhausted tonight. I’ve run around these few blocks for an hour, and I’m just ready to go home, take a shower, and crawl into bed.”

He nods. “Yeah. If you want to give me your comm frequency, I can let you know if we see him tonight. Could even try to catch him for you if you’d like.”

You smile and shake your head. “I don’t mind giving it to you, but I  don’t want you going out of your way to try to catch him. Go inside and have fun with the others. If you happen to see him, just let me know where, and I’ll keep it in my places to check next time.”

“Alright, but be careful lurking around by yourself. Not everyone is your friend.”

You promise to be safe and give him your comm frequency. He gives you his as well, just in case he does spot Turbo, you won’t think some random weirdo is comming you. He walks you back to the main street and back into the safe glow of the orange 79’s sign. You thank him again for his help again and say good night. 

As you walk away, you glance back at him once more. He hasn’t moved. Just stands calmly and watches you go like some sentry keeping guard over you. Probably worried about those people who aren’t your friends. You give a small wave and continue on your way. You hope you do get the chance to see him again.

*

After you’ve eaten, showered, and thrown on your nightclothes, you slide into bed ready to sleep off your exhaustion when your comlink alerts you that you have a message.

Groaning, you roll over and tap the button to see who has sent you something. An image pops up instantly. 

A clone in red and white armor that looks a little too much like it's bloodstained to make you feel comfortable stands with his arms stretched out. He looks tired and mildly disgusted. In his grasp is Turbo, who looks equally displeased. 

A second message comes in.

Found him.

A = Affection (How affectionate are they? How do they show affection?)

Super affectionate. His love language is physical touch and words of affirmation. He’d always be complimenting you and telling you how much he loved you. He’d feel the need to be touching you somehow. If you’re sitting down, his knee is against yours. Walking through a crowd, his hand is either in yours or on the small of your back.

B = Best friend (What would they be like as a best friend? How would the friendship start?)

He’s the type of friend to remember little things about you. He knows you favorite holofilm and your childhood tooka’s full name. He sends you pictures of different things he thinks you’d like to see when he’s on other planets and not getting shot at. He sends you transmissions every chance he gets. You probably met at 79’s or Qibbu’s.

C = Cuddles (Do they like to cuddle? How would they cuddle?)

This man will cuddle as long you let him! He doesn’t care how you do it. As long as he gets to hold you and have you close, that’s all that matters to him. Prefers to be the big spoon, but he’s not too proud to be the little one. He will tangle his limbs with yours, though. He puts off a lot of body heat, so be prepared for that.

D = Domestic (Do they want to settle down? How are they at cooking and cleaning?)

Out of all the Deltas, I think he would fall the fastest for someone. Scorch really wants to settle down and have a family. He thought he wouldn’t get that chance for a long time, but after seeing his vod’e in Omega Squad being happy with their partners, he wants that, too. He feels like he actually might can have that life after all.

E = Ending (If they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it?)

He’d do it face to face. He’d probably stress about the whole way to meet them. He’d be trying to practice what to say, so he doesn’t mess it up. It’s still not great. He’d feel terrible if they started crying, but he’d stick to his decision. I don’t think he’d break up with someone lightly. He’s thought it through and has probably gotten a lot of advice on how he should go about it.

F = Fiance(e) (How do they feel about commitment? How quick would they want to get married?)

Once he finds the person he knows he wants to be with, he’d be all in. He wants to have someone waiting on him and worrying about him. The clones are very loyal, and they’d be just a loyal to a partner as well. He’d be committed and already planning his future with you. He’d be the quickest to admit his feelings and to act on them.

G = Gentle (How gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?)

The gentlest. He may joke around and pick at you, but it’s all in good fun and never meant to be hurtful. He’s such a simp and keeps your feelings and comfort in mind.

H = Hugs (Do they like hugs? How often do they do it? What are their hugs like?)

He loves hugs and does not get enough of them. He’s jealous of how Omega Squad and the Nulls are always welcomed back with open arms from Kal. He may not want hugs from Kal, but it hurts knowing that no one is there to great you and hug you and tell you that you did a good job. The Deltas aren’t huggers when it comes to each other. They’re all desperately touch-starved, but they’re not going to admit it.

When he gets with his partner, Scorch never turns down a hug. He worries at first about how long a hug is supposed to last. He’d stand there and hug you for half an hour if you’d let him. Int the beginning he would try to play it cool and give you small, quick one-armed hugs. The longer you are together, his hugs get longer, and he’d hold you as close to him as he could with both arms securely around you.

I = I love you (How fast do they say the L-word?)

He thinks it pretty quickly in, but he’ll hold off saying it for a month or two. It’d be some random moment in your apartment where you’re just hanging out. Some cheese holofilm would be playing, and the two of you would be cracking jokes about it. You’re laughing so hard that your sides hurt, and he thinks how amazing this is. How amazing you are. And it just slips out.

J = Jealousy (How jealous do they get? What do they do when they’re jealous?)

He trusts you, and it would have to be someone really insistent to make him jealous. He’d move quickly to where you are and throw an arm around your shoulder. He’d let the guy know to kark off and leave the two of you alone. Not many people are going to mess with a commando, so you don’t have trouble often.

K = Kisses (What are their kisses like? Where do they like to kiss you? Where do they like to be kissed?)

Wet. This guy loves to have his tongue in your mouth, but he can and does give a lot of soft kisses too. He’s not shy with PDA and will kiss you openly. He’s big on giving forehead kisses and soft neck kisses from behind, and if you give them to him, he’ll melt. It might even elicit a quiet moan from him.

L = Little ones (How are they around children?)

He’s great with kids! He matches their energy and wants as many as his partner is willing to raise with him.

M = Morning (How are mornings spent with them?)

He’s not a morning person. It takes him bit to get going, and he needs at least two cups of caf… with a lot of sugar.

N = Night (How are nights spent with them?)

He’s prone to nightmares and has trouble sleeping. Even if he’s exhausted, it takes him a while to fall asleep. He loves staying over at your place because the two of you will be up for hours talking about the most random things or, you know, having a different kind of fun in bed.

P = Patience (How easily angered are they?)

O = Open (When would they start revealing things about themselves? Do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly?)

He would be quicker to open up than the other 3 would be, but it would still take him some time. He may be the most extroverted, but he was still raised by Walon Vau. Being fully open with anyone other than his brothers is hard, and he'll hide his true feelings behind a wall of humor. Give him some time, and he'll open up and pour his heart out eventually.

Not super easily angered, but his patience is thin. He wants what he wants right then. He doesn’t like to wait. He doesn’t like to stay idle and will get bored and restless.

Q = Quizzes (How much would they remember about you? Do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything?)

As I said at the beginning, the guy remembers random things. He may not remember the exact day you met or what outfit you were wearing, but he knows your favorite flower and favorite ice cream flavor. He knows the names of all your friends and your favorite band.

R = Remember (What is their favorite moment in your relationship?)

The day you were waiting for him when they landed back at HQ. Sergeant Skirata and Sergeant Vau had made sure you were there. It had been a hard, stressful mission, and you had made sure to be there to welcome him back. It meant more to him than you’d ever know and more than he’d say aloud.

S = Security (How protective are they? How would they protect you? How would they like to be protected?)

Very protective. You’re his Cyar’ika. His future riduur. He’s not letting anything happen to you. He’ll defend not only your emotions and feelings, but we all know this man would fight for you physically. Nothing is happening to you.

He can protect himself physically fine. Please do not try to help in a fight if you’re not trained. It would stress him out so badly, and he could get hurt trying to make sure you’re okay. Just take care of him and protect his heart. That’s all he needs.

T = Try (How much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks?)

He would try so hard. Most of what he knows about romance is from holofilms. So, it’s usually really sappy and a little silly, but he puts his all into it. He just wants to do things right by you and wants you happy. You’d find rose petals in a heart shape on your bed. Candles lit everywhere. The scent would be a little overwhelming because they’re candles he found in your apartment and none of them smell the same, but he tried!

U = Ugly (What would be some bad habits of theirs?)

He feels the need to fill silence. Whistles at the worst times and annoys his brothers.

V = Vanity (How concerned are they with their looks?)

As long as he’s clean, he’s not too concerned if his hair is perfect or about that new scar he got. He’s got millions of brothers with his face, what he looks like isn’t that important to him. He’s not going to worry about his blotchy bleach job in his hair. He just did it for fun anyway. The large facial scar he got during the training accident, he wears it with pride and as a reminder not to get complacent with his job.

W = Whole (Would they feel incomplete without you?)

Once he has you and things are serious, he feels like you have vastly improved his life, and he would feel hollow for a while if you broke up or something bad were to happen to you. He’ll sit in the back of ship and comm you when he can. Your voice helps him calm down after fighting.

X = Xtra (A random headcanon for them.)

After he burned his (and Vau’s) eyebrows off and earned his nickname, he would draw on his eyebrows. They always looked ridiculous, and they got him in trouble a couple of times because he and Sev couldn’t stop laughing about it.

Y = Yuck (What are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner?)

He wouldn’t want someone who was selfish. Also, talking bad about his brothers (any of his brothers not just Sev, Fixer, and Boss) would be a big no. You’d have to get along with the other Deltas. I’m not saying you have to be their best friend, but you guys have to at least be able to hang out and be chill with each other.

Z = Zzz (What is a sleep habit of theirs?)

When he falls asleep, he needs to be clinging to something. If he’s in his bunk, it’s his pillow. If he’s spending the night with you, you’re his personal teddy bear. If he’s on a mission and they’re sleeping in the woods, he’s probably got his arms wrapped around the arm of one of his brothers.

@orangez3st

“Are you sure I haven’t tied them too tight?” Your voice asked in the darkness.

He smiled. The blindfold may have kept him from seeing your face, but it didn’t stop him from picturing the look of concern that he’d always found so endearing. The narrowing of your brow as you pulled your bottom lip into your mouth was one he could discern just from your tone of voice.

“They’re good,” he said, giving an experimental tug on the binds. “Very good. Done this before?”

He wasn’t sure what to expect from you. He had always been the one leading you and trying to make you feel as amazing as he did, but he had asked you to make him forget everything. He didn’t want to think of anything but your body and the pleasure you brought him. He didn’t want to remember anything but your name. He needed this.

Your fingers danced gently against his abdomen, along the lines of his groin, and down to the delicate skin of his thighs. A sharp hiss of air left his lungs as you wrapped your fingers around his half-hard member.

“I can’t say that I have,” you told him. “But I’ve thought about it before.”

He tilted his head to the side and gave a smug smirk. “You’ve thought about having me tied to your headboard before? I knew you had a naughty side tucked away under that good girl facade.”

The deep, husky tone of his voice made your cheeks warm, and you were thankful he couldn’t see the effect he had on you at that moment. Not that he needed to see you to know how flustered he made you. Honestly, you felt like he often went out of his way to see how far he could go to make you blush. He loved to hold you close to him from behind, your ass pressed hard against his erection as he whispered absolute filth into your ear. His hands were never far from the top of your thighs as he held you in his lap in the corner booth at 79’s. He never cared who saw. His brothers knew not to look below the top of the table.

“What else have you thought about do-” His voice cut off with a gasp that turned into a raspy moan as you ran your tongue along the head of his cock. His hands grasped at air above him.

“If you’d be quiet, I’d show you,” you said, pulling away from him. “Or maybe I just need to give you something better to do with your mouth.”

He gave a breathy chuckle. “Maybe you do, Mesh’la.”

You rolled your eyes and gave his thigh a sharp smack with the open palm of your hand. “And here I was thinking Scorch was the one who didn’t know how to shut up.”

Making your way up the bed to where his head rested on your favorite pillow, you stopped for just a moment to admire him. The heated, tan skin of his torso rose and fell with every deep, steady breath he took; his cock was hard and waiting for your attention. The blankets were a bunched up mess at his feet. The black velvet of the blindfold did little to hide the impatient narrowing of his eyebrows. Boss was never patient. He liked to get things done his way and when he wanted. He didn’t like to waste time. You’d heard that impatience was a trait that Walon Vau instilled in all the commandos he had trained.

“Cyar’ika, are you going to fuck me, or are you just going to leave me laying here all night?”

You grabbed a handful of his hair and tugged his head back. A deep groan reverberated in his throat.

“I didn’t know you were this much of a brat.” You moved your leg to straddle his head. “And no, I’m not going to fuck you. I told you, you need something better to do with your mouth. Now, open up.”

He ran his tongue across his lips before doing as you said. You tightened your grip in his hair slightly before lowering your wet cunt to his waiting mouth. He wasted no time shoving his tongue into you, tasting every bit of you that he could. He moaned against your core, sending waves of vibrations through your body. His tongue set a brutal pace as you rocked against his mouth; the bridge of his nose rubbing deliciously against your clit.

The posts of your headboard creaked and groaned as Boss tugged on his restraints. He wanted to touch you so damn badly. He wanted to feel the warmth of your hips and move you faster against him.

“If you break my bed, I’m going to break you,” you panted.

You felt him smile under you. “Promise?”

You didn’t have time to quip back as your climax rapidly approached. Boss always ate you out with deadly precision like your body was a battlefield he couldn’t wait to conquer, and tonight was no exception. You may have been on top, but Boss didn’t really know how to relinquish full control.

Your thighs squeezed him tightly as you felt your release wrack through your body. Your palms slammed hard against the headboard to keep yourself from collapsing fully on top of him as he continued working your overstimulated core. With shaky legs, you pulled yourself from him. You almost missed the quiet whine from his lips over the sound of your own breathing.

You ran your finger across his lips covered in your juices and grinned at his desperation.