He was the first Wayne to mutate after all the junk. Old Wayne didn’t see it as a mutation, he saw it as “oh my god this kid is the second coming of Christ(Wayne)” and figured he HAD to become the next Old Wayne OR ELSE.
So Crater has been spoiled and revered his whole life. Obviously giving him a huge superiority complex. Blerol offers for his commander (another OC of mine, Lierell) to train Crater, which Old Wayne accepts. During this time, Lierell finds that Crater is actually too much of a foolish brat to be of any use at all ever.
Crater pushes his luck and is eventually kicked from the legion. This sends him into a crisis where he frantically grasps onto more power. He uses the glorified image they have of him to get his way, resulting in Old Wayne cutting ties with Blerol.
After hearing about all this bs from Lierell, Pongorma sets out to kill him before things get out of hand. This sends the entire colony into a terrible frenzy; thus, this is the end of Pongorma, but not Crater.
I reckon, as did Pongorma, that Crater could be an ally of Odozeir and perhaps Viewax if Viewax hasn’t offed himself by that point. I’ll decide later just how terrible I want him to be.
A/N: ALRIGHT. SO. I REWROTE THE FIRST PART OF THIS SERIES. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT. As always, THANK YOU TO THE OUTSTANDING @teletraan-meets-jarvis FOR BETA READING THIS FOR ME!
The bass of the music in 79s is damn near deafening as you step inside the bar, almost immediately spotting the magenta and grey paint of the 28th Combat Wing’s armor in their favored booth against the wall. What stands out more was the yellow hatch-marked commando armor sitting amongst them. Your teeth immediately find the inside of your cheek, gnawing away to ease your annoyance.
Fucking Gregor. Dammit.
You’ve been looking forward to this all week, but of course that fucking commando is here. Maker alive, he’s infuriating, but you aren’t about to let him ruin your night out. You have to cash out on all of the booze Chuckles owes you at some point, and he’s so rarely planetside, your opportunities are limited.
But why did it have to be the night that asshole is also around?
You’re not sure what exactly about Gregor gets under your skin. Maybe it’s his cocky smirk or his stupid hair or that ridiculous giggle that sounds like an inebriated fathier whinnying. Or maybe it’s the way he seems entirely unbothered by you. No matter what it is, Gregor’s got you figured and loves to dig his finger into that sore spot whenever he gets the chance. He’s already spotted you from across the room, raising an eyebrow as you start heading in his direction.
Not tonight, asshole.
You square your shoulders, swaying your hips a bit more than necessary. None of them have ever seen you out of your mechanic’s jumpsuit, and you’d picked your favorite (and only) dress for the occasion. It’s a simple, strappy black number, short, but not too short, shimmery, and easy enough to get into and out of should the need arise. After all, you deserve a little bit of attention. And maybe a good lay. If you can find one.
Gregor says nothing as he sips his beer, but his eyes never leave you, raking from your toes to your eyebrows as you nudge Chuckles and slide into the booth next to him.
“I’m sorry, I’m saving this seat for some greasy mechanic I owe a few drinks to,” Chuckles teases, slipping his arm over the back of the booth behind you.
“Oh, my apologies. Mind if I keep it warm until she gets here?” you joke back, playfully ruffling his mohawk, which is currently a deep purple color.
Crater rolls his eyes while Stones leans over, whispering that you look very nice, making you duck your head bashfully. Chuck flags down a waiter droid.
“What’ll it be, Bolts?” he asks, invoking the nickname he’d given you.”Just don’t break my non-existent bank account.”
“I’ll have a whiskey, please,” you request. Gregor raises an eyebrow again.
You feel annoyance tighten your chest. “What?” you ask sharply.
“Here we go,” mumbles Guin under his breath.
Gregor shrugs. “Just didn’t peg you for the whiskey type.”
“Oh, do enlighten me as to what type you thought I’d be, Captain.”
“Alright, alright, your seat’s not even warm yet,” Chuck mutters. He leans closer, speaking directly into your ear. “What is your damage with him?”
You sniff delicately, as if Chuckles has somehow misread the constant bickering between Gregor and you. “Nothin’. I just asked a question.”
Chuck rolls his eyes before sliding the whiskey in front of you. “Just drink this so you’ve got less of a stick up your ass.”
You glare at him, but accept the drink anyway, enjoying the slight burn in your throat and the warmth that settles into your belly.
It doesn’t take too many whiskeys before you feel yourself start to relax, some of the tension leaving your shoulders. You laugh at Chuckles’s terrible jokes, chat with Crater about the last bolo ball game, and even get Sticks to come out of his shell a bit, convincing him to regale you with the stories behind Chuckles’s most ridiculous injuries. The entire time, you notice Gregor’s stealing glances at you, and your confidence grows.
Let the bastard look.
You lean forward to take another sip of whatever drink Chuckles has ordered for you now. You let your cleavage rest on the table as your tongue wraps around the straw, pulling it between your lips. You glance up in time to see Gregor watching you over the rim of his glass. His eyes are on your breasts, but they quickly flick up to meet your gaze. You roll your eyes at his obvious leering, leaning back into the crook of Chuckles’s shoulder. The pilot seems somewhat surprised, but doesn’t move to pull away. Gregor says nothing, but something in his eyes seems to flare for a moment.
You’re imagining things.
As the evening progresses, Crater graciously excuses himself to head back to the barracks and catch up on some reports. As soon as their commanding officer disappears towards the bar to settle his tab, tongues loosen, and suddenly the conversation turns to romantic encounters. Unfortunately, the boys haven’t spent enough time planetside to rack up anything too salacious, so it isn’t long before you become the target of the conversation.
“C’mon, Bolts. What’s been your wildest night?”
“A lady never kisses and tells.”
“Who said anything about kissing?”
“And since when are you a lady?” You elbow Chuck for that comment, shooting him a glare with no real heat behind it.
“Oh, come on. There has to have been something that you’d consider memorable.”
You shrug. “Not lately.”
“No game or nothing worth writing home about?”
“You guys sure are nosey.”
“We’ve got to live vicariously through you, Bolts.”
You laugh, growing bolder as the liquor in your stomach warms you. “There was a guy a few weeks back. He did his best, and it was probably better sex than I’d had in a while, but that’s not saying much with the losing streak I’ve had going. Thinking of giving up and just going with the battery-powered lovers from here on out. At least then I get to finish.”
Stones groans in despair for your lackluster love life and Chuckles cackles loudly. “You sure do know how to pick ‘em, Bolts.”
You shrug. “It’s been a struggle.”
“Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places.”
Gregor had been quiet for the last little while, but that comment from him draws your attention. And your ire.
“And what would you know about making a woman cum, Captain?” you sneer.
He grins cheekily. “Plenty.”
“I bet you couldn’t make a woman orgasm if your life depended on it,” you bite back.
Chuckles huffs in annoyance next to you. Gregor swirls the whiskey he’s switched to in the light, watching the legs of the liquid trail down the side of the glass.
“I’ll take that bet.”
It’s the first time he’s ever really openly antagonized you, and something about the way he’s looking at you sets your blood boiling and a very different sort of blaze licking up your spine. Your eyes lock onto one another, and for reasons you can’t explain, you feel heat pool between your legs. You adjust in the booth, and while the others are guffawing about something else Chuckles said to lighten the mood, Gregor notes the way your thighs rub together. He smirks, and you scowl back as your annoyance battles for control with the sudden tingle that ripples through your nerves. After another few minutes, you excuse yourself, unsure of where you’re heading.
Just need to get away from him for a minute.
Your feet carry you towards the back of the bar where it’s darker. You pass plenty of bodies pressed together, panting, sweating, and moaning in the dim lighting. Suddenly, you feel a hand in the small of your back, pressing you towards one unoccupied corner that’s far from any prying eyes. You whirl to find Gregor smirking down at you.
“I-I was looking for the ‘freshers,” you sputter.
“Now love, I don’t think that’s true at all,” he responds. “I think you were looking for trouble.”
You regain your bearings, scoffing at him as he backs you into the corner. You feel the heat grow between your legs, and you hate how your panties are sticking to you as he pins you against the wall, one arm braced next to your head as he leans closer, smirking. You can smell his sweat and his drink and his skin, and a sudden shiver rips through you. You jut your chin out defiantly.
“What do you want, Gregor?” you snap.
“Same thing as you.”
“And what’s that?”
He chuckles before leaning even closer to you, his voice rasping in your ear. “To make you cum.”
You snort indignantly, but your legs are trembling underneath you.
“The question is,” he continues. “How best to make that happen? Are you one of those lovers that wants to be taken roughly, with me buried deep in that sopping cunt of yours while I hold a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet? Or do you need me to build you up more slowly, take my time until you fall apart?” His fingers trail up your thigh, slipping under the fabric of your dress before digging into your skin slightly. He presses forward, slotting a knee between your legs, and your breathing quickens. His eyes are watching you as his fingers find the hem of your panties on your hip, and he twists the string of delicate lace around his knuckle.
“Now this feels like something you were hoping someone would take off of you tonight. That the case, love?”
You swallow hard.
“You want me to take these off of you?”
“No.”
He pulls his hand away immediately, clearly thinking he’s misread things, but you lock your fingers around his wrist. His eyes find yours in the darkness, the question in them apparent.
“I want you to make me cum with them on.”
His trademark smirk reappears, his fingers slipping back under your dress, drifting between your legs to press your clit through the thin fabric. He’s more sure of himself now, more certain you want this, and as much as you hate it, you absolutely fucking do.
“All worked up just from thinking about me? You’re practically soaked,” he murmurs.
“You talk a lot,” you mutter.
He chuckles against your ear. “I think you like when I talk.” His fingers find the hem of your panties between your legs, and you feel him push the lacy fabric aside, tracing through your dripping folds. “I think you like hearing all the ways that I think about fucking you, and trust me, I’ve thought about it a lot.” His first finger finds its way inside you, and you gasp, hitching one leg over his hip as your hands fly to his shoulders to find purchase. Gregor’s watching you as your lips part, your head thunking back against the wall as he slips a second finger inside you.
“That’s it, love. Let go for me. Let me take care of you.”
“I really don’t like you,” you try to snarl, but it comes out more of a whine.
He chuckles. “I think you want to dislike me, but that’s becoming more difficult.”
Your reply dies on your tongue, replaced by a gasp. His fingers are so thick and deliciously calloused. When they finally find that spongy place inside you, you dig your teeth into your lower lip to stifle a moan. He crowds you further against the wall, bearing down on that place inside you. “None of that now. Let me hear you.”
“Fuck you.”
“I might let you if you’re nicer,” he teases.
You dig your nails into the back of his neck, and he gasps lightly before he nudges the strap of your dress aside with his nose and bites down on the flesh of your shoulder. You groan out his name.
“Gregor.”
“That’s right. You like this, don’t you? Being back here where anyone could see you falling apart on my fingers.”
You suddenly become aware of just how exposed you are, and in spite of yourself, it thrills you. Glancing back over at the table, you see the boys are all still seated and chattering away, completely oblivious as to what’s going on. You’re mostly glad they’re not paying attention.
Mostly.
Gregor notes where your gaze has drifted. “You want them to watch, hm? I could call the others over. Have them see you finally get what you deserve.” You whimper, clenching around his fingers as he slips a third one in. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? You’re filthy, love. Maybe another time. Right now, I want you all to myself.”
You’re practically riding his palm right now, the man you’ve hated for months, but Maker above, you’re not about to stop. There’s something so deliciously obscene about how you never could have predicted this moment, and yet, here you were, fueled by need and anger and something else you can’t quite place. The music is faint enough back in this corner that you can hear the obscene wet noises coming from between your legs. You’re both sweating, foreheads pressed together, panting in each other’s faces.
“Gregor, I’m close.” It might be the first time you’ve said his name without a snarl tacked onto the last syllable.
“I know you are, love. Be good for me and soak my hand, yeah?”
You glare at him with heated eyes, mustering your last bit of defiance. “Make me.”
He sucks at the place just below your ear. “With pleasure.” With that, he presses against your clit with his thumb, circling slowly with just the perfect amount of pressure. Your mind goes fuzzy, teetering on the brink as he buries his face in your neck, panting against your sweaty skin. Your eyes rove the bar around you once more as Gregor’s thumb presses more firmly against the bundle of nerves between your legs. No one near you is paying any attention to you, mostly focused on their own partners, but a pair of piercing brown eyes draw your attention, and you lock gazes with Crater from across the bar.
He must have gotten sidetracked or decided to have one more drink away from his men as he closed out his tab, but either way, there he is, seemingly watching you ride Gregor’s fingers. His expression doesn’t change as your eyes find his. He brings his glass to his lips, his gaze unwavering as he surveys you. You’re not even absolutely certain he’s looking at you in this dimly lit mass of bodies, but you think he is, and that’s enough to send you flying towards the edge of your orgasm. You cum hard, your vision whiting out as you topple over the precipice. Gregor presses his mouth to yours, swallowing your scream, and you bite down on his bottom lip as you ride out your high. When the aftershocks have finally subsided, you slump against the wall as Gregor pulls his hand from between your legs. He holds you up, resting his chin on your shoulder as he pants against your skin.
Glancing back at the bar, you note Crater’s gone. If he was even actually there in the first place.
“I… still don’t like you,” you mutter between gulps of air.
He chuckles. “Keep telling yourself that, love.”
When your breathing finally steadies and your legs become usable again, he stands back, watching you as you straighten your clothes. You try to recompose yourself, smoothing your hair, and he grins. You roll your eyes at him, and he chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“Looks like I won that bet.” He kisses you on the cheek, which infuriatingly makes your face flush with heat. You glare at him as he turns to leave, but you grab his arm again. In spite of months of derision and grumbled comments, you want more.
And you want it now.
His expression is puzzled, and you relish in it as you step closer to grip his rock-hard length on the outside of his pants, making him gasp. You whisper directly into his ear, ensuring only he’ll hear.
“Wait five minutes and then follow me outside. I’ll have a cab waiting.”
“What for?”
You kiss him, running your tongue over the inside of his lip before patting his cheek, enjoying the way he groans and the surprised look on his face.
“Double or nothing. But this time you can't use your hands.”
With that, you turn on your heel, heading back towards the table. Your fingers wander nervously over the fabric of your dress, ensuring there’s no wrinkle or strap out of place that would give away what happened in that dark corner. You pull your hair over one shoulder, hoping it covers the stinging mark where Gregor’s teeth found purchase against your skin. Chuckles glances up as you get closer, his eyes seemingly taking in everything you’d hoped to hide, but his expression doesn’t change. Heat rises in your cheeks, and you try to meet his gaze with a level stare of your own.
“Everything alright, Bolts?”
“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking I’ll head out. Got a long one tomorrow.”
“Want me to walk you home?”
“No. I mean, I’m good. But thank you. Don’t want to be a bother.”
Chuck nods.
“We all good here then? Don’t need me to settle up anything?” you ask.
Chuckles grins. “All good, but we’re even now, right?”
You smirk. “You wish, bud. You owe me at least two more nights like this before I’d call us even.”
The pilot rolls his eyes, but you wink before making your way back through the crowd and out the front door of the bar.
The night air is chilly, or at least it makes you shiver as the breeze hits your sweaty skin. You wrap your arms around yourself, eyeing the area where taxis usually could be flagged down. There’s a large crowd gathered, and apparently, it’s a slow night with the cabs. You shift your weight on your feet nervously, weighing your options. You’d rather not stand in a crowd with Gregor. Your cunt throbs between your legs, still slick from the orgasm the commando wrenched from you, and still craving more. There’s a moment of sharp clarity where you realize what just occurred, what you’ve propositioned. You pause to consider it.
Yes, you’ve always disliked Gregor for whatever imagined slights you’ve clung to, but you’ve just allowed him to pleasure you better than any lovers in recent memory, perhaps ever. And he followed through on his promise, and has seemingly agreed to do it again, wrenching another orgasm from you. If he was actually a sleamo, you’d have never let him touch you, and now, your mind really tries to pinpoint what it is about him that’s always pissed you off. He’s good looking, and he knows it, and he’s always been able to read you, seemingly finding the most annoying places to press into. Well, until he found a very different sort of place to press against tonight, one that made your legs tremble and your nerves flare with electricity. You still can’t quite put your finger on what it is about him that makes you angry, but you’re definitely certain about the reasons you want him to fuck you now.
It was unexpected, impulsive, almost taboo, and that made it more thrilling. And him being so eager to pull another orgasm from you? Well, that’s new. Even with your shared history, you’ve never met a man so focused on you, and deep down, you like the attention. Even if it is Gregor.
You turn back towards the club, and see the lanky commando just exiting. As much as you’d love to take him back to your apartment and fuck in a real bed, something about it seems too intimate, even with your revelations. In your mind, it’s almost some sort of concession, admitting that you’ve enjoyed him enough to be vulnerable, to allow him into your space. And that’s not something you’re ready for, at least not yet. You just want a release. Well, more than the one he’s already given you, and you’re not feeling patient enough to wait for a cab. You lock eyes with him, jerking your head towards one of the alleys.
He seems to take your cue, following behind you as you stride in between the two buildings, picking your way around a few couples that seemed to have the same idea. You’re pretty sure one of them is that ARC with the tattoo on his temple from the 501st, but it’s hard to tell with the way he’s bent over the woman he’s fucking against the wall. As you walk past, she moans out “Fives,” and confirms your suspicions. A sharp thrill of anticipation snakes through you.
Gregor might fuck you like that in a minute.
You think he might grab your hand to lead you through the alley, but he allows you to lead, hovering just half a step behind you without touching you. And that almost seems to make the space between you fizzle with anticipation. As soon as you get far enough past the other pairs to give yourselves a semblance of privacy, you finally feel warm hands snake around your waist. Gregor spins you, pinning you against the wall. You hiss as the cool bricks scrape against your bare shoulder blades, but it’s more from surprise than anything else.
“What do you want, love?” Gregor asks, hands already wandering your body. The lighting out here is only a little better than inside 79s, but the shadows work in his favor, sharpening his features and somehow making his eyes more piercing.
Karking hells, he’s hot.
“I want you to fuck me hard against this wall until I cum as many times as I need to,” you gasp, arching into his touch as he squeezes your breast over your dress.
The corner of his mouth lifts into a triumphant smirk, one that would normally make you snarl at him, but he’s already got you unraveling. “Yeah? I think I can do that. Just gotta help me get ready.” He guides your hand between his legs, and you feel his cock through his pants again. He’s softened a little in the last few minutes since you’d separated, and while you could probably get him hard again just by stroking him, you want to turn the tables and get him back on his heels a bit.
You want to wipe that smirk off of his stupidly handsome face. You want him to whimper for you.
Pushing him away from you, you squat down, carefully balancing on your toes, and start working to free his cock from his pants. Luckily, he’d opted to not wear any armor above his knees tonight, and it only takes a moment to fish out your prize. He’s long, and so thick and warm in your grasp. You feel your mouth watering already at the prospect of what you’re about to do.
“Oh, Maker, Bolts. Is that what you want?” he asks, and you feel his cock twitch against your palm.
You say nothing, glaring up at him before you slip him past your lips. You groan as you taste him, tracing his shaft and flicking at the head of his cock with your tongue. Gregor’s mouth falls open slightly, and he gives you exactly what you’d hoped for, a whine high in his throat. You take him deeper, relishing in the way he stretches your jaw, even as his head brushes the back of your throat. With watering eyes, you drag your tongue along the bottom of him, pulling back enough to wrap your fingers around his length, twisting as you take him again. Gregor hisses out a curse between clenched teeth, and you hum, smirking around your mouthful. The commando stares down at you, clinging to what’s left of his composure.
“Now love, I thought the rule was no hands?” he scolds breathlessly, reaching down to grab both of your wrists. He pins them against the wall with one of his massive hands, stepping closer and thrusting gently into your mouth. Your head rests against the wall, and all you can do is open your jaw wider to accommodate him as he presses even closer. He keeps your hands pinned against the wall, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Squeeze if it’s too much, but I’m not going to go easy. Not with the way you’ve run that mouth at me.” He’s teasing, and you raise an eyebrow, grazing him with your teeth. He reaches down, gripping your jaw firmly.
“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” he grits out darkly, and you shiver at how the hoarse, lighthearted rasp of his voice has turned to a deep gravel that promises to ruin you. Without further preamble, Gregor snaps his hips into you until you choke. He watches you for a moment, and when you don’t squeeze his hand, he starts fucking your mouth without abandon. You focus on breathing through your nose as he drives his cock into your throat, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft, trying to find the place that’ll make him come undone. Tears stream from your eyes, surely ruining your makeup, and rivulets of saliva slide over your lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. Gregor’s too far gone to note your efforts with your tongue, swearing under his breath as he uses you.
And as much as you dislike him, you love this.
Even if you’ll never admit it.
You can feel your pulse between your legs, and your pussy is begging for some sort of stimulation. You flex your wrists experimentally to see if you’ll be allowed one hand to touch yourself with, but Gregor tightens his grip.
“That greedy little cunt is going to have to wait,” he rasps, glancing down at your pleading eyes with the smuggest expression imaginable. “I’m going to get my credits worth out of your mouth first.” With that, he pushes to the back of your throat, burying your nose in the dark curls at his base, and he holds you there. Your vision blurs with tears, and he’s cut off your air, but fuck you love it.
You feel his thumb trace your hand, reminding you that you can squeeze anytime to have him release you, but tapping out at this point would mean letting him win, and you’re not about to do that.
After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of your mouth, and you gasp for air as a thick string of spit connects the two of you. You gasp and choke as you try to catch your breath, but Gregor is already pulling you to your feet, spinning you to face the wall and pushing your dress up and your panties to the side. Your knees protest as pins and needles snake down your calves where the blood flow was cut off in your squatting position, but you don’t have time to complain as Gregor kicks your feet apart, lining himself up with your entrance.
“You ready to cum on my cock, love?”
Your voice feels rough as you reply. “We’ll see if you can make me.”
Gregor pulls the strap of your dress off your shoulder, freeing your breast, which he immediately grabs, pinching your nipple. In spite of yourself, your head falls back against his shoulder as you try to press the tender flesh into his palm. He squeezes roughly as he takes your earlobe in his teeth, chuckling.
“Oh, I’ll make sure you can still feel me all day tomorrow. And that you’ll be back for more.”
The snarled retort is on the tip of your tongue when he sheathes himself fully in you in one stroke, and it’s strangled by the high-pitched gasp that rips out of you. Gregor crowds you against the wall, practically lifting you up on your toes with every thrust. You’re going to be sore tomorrow, you’re certain of that with how he’s stretching you out, carving out his place inside of you with every snap of his hips. Your breasts press against the cool, rough brick, and normally, you’d complain that it was uncomfortable, but Gregor’s cock hits a place inside you that makes you cry out loudly, and the pleasure overshadows the pain.
“Shhh, love,” Gregor coos in your ear. “Gonna attract an audience. Unless that’s what you want?”
“Thought y-you liked hearing me,” you gasp.
“Inside was louder. Out here, everyone can hear you mewling.”
You place your palms against the wall, digging your teeth into your lip to try and keep your moans locked inside you. Gregor shifts his grip on your hips, reaching up to splay his massive palm against your breast, his other hand trailing between your legs. You regain enough brainpower to swat it away.
“No hands,” you snarl.
He huffs a laugh, redoubling his efforts. “Fine then. We’ll be here longer, so you’ll really have to stay quiet.” He purposefully bottoms out, and you moan before you can stop yourself. “You’re so loud, Bolts,” he teases, bearing down on the place inside of you that’s making your legs tremble beneath you. “I suppose I can help with that.”
His hand slides over your mouth, and you think he’s just going to muffle your screams, but instead, he slides three fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You whine, and he chuckles, driving into you. You want to make a comment about how loud his hips are slapping against your ass, how the wet sounds of your cunt are echoing down the alley, how Gregor’s panting and grunting in your ear, and you certainly would if the pads of his fingers weren’t pressing against your tongue. You realize those are the same fingers that touched you earlier, that found the place his cock has now discovered, and you can still taste traces of your orgasm on his callouses. He hooks the corner of your lip, pulling the corner of your mouth down enough to allow a trail of saliva to slither over his knuckles.
“Sloppy little thing,” he mutters, and you moan. The brick scratches against your chest and palms as he pushes you harder against the wall, using it to pin you in place as he takes you roughly. You feel eyes on you, and turning your head as much as you can manage, you find the gaze of the woman that Fives is fucking. The ARC trooper is on his knees now, his face hidden under her skirt, one of her legs draped over his pauldron. The woman’s braced against the wall, her sharp purple eyes watching you with interest as her fingers snake through Fives’s curls. It’s hard for you to tell in the dark, but you’re almost certain Fives is stroking himself as he lavishes her cunt with attention, his arm moving in a repetitive motion as he groans quietly. The woman winks at you, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips before Fives pulls a moan from her.
“Knew you’d like an audience,” Gregor rasps. “Now, let’s give them a show.” His hand leaves your breast, disappearing for a moment before he brings it down in a stinging slap across your ass. Your eyes roll back into your head as the pain courses through your veins, blossoming to pleasure under Gregor’s warm palm. He lands another blow to your other cheek, and this time, you can’t help but scream around his digits. Your cunt spasms around his cock, and you know you’re close, so close.
“Your pussy’s going to choke me, love,” Gregor moans. “Better finish you off before you milk me dry.”
“T-tfhh eeee,” you mumble around his fingers.
You know he’s grinning behind you.
“What was that?”
You bite his finger gently, and he yanks his hand loose, spanking you again.
“Touch m-me,” you demand once you regain your breath.
“Now, you said no hands was the rule. And I intend to comply.”
“I know what the fuck I said,” you snap.
He readjusts, and somehow, he hits the perfect place. Your eyes cross and you think your legs might give out. You moan, your forehead resting against the brick as you try to not move, hoping he’ll strike the same place again.
“Ask nicely,” Gregor whispers mockingly.
Your resolve and animosity crumbles to ash as he strokes the same place inside you again.
“Please,” you beg. “I’m so close. Please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”
“Oh, I love hearing you beg like that,” Gregor groans. You expect him to tease you more, dangling you over the edge as you whine and thrash helplessly, but he relents, slipping his hand between your legs and easily finding your clit, which he presses against with the perfect amount of pressure.
“Say ‘thank you, Gregor,’ and I’ll let you cum.”
Fuck, you despise this man. He’s embedded himself under your skin for no discernible reason, and yet, you’ve let him touch you and pleasure you and fuck you, and there’s no way you’re going to be able to scrub this night from your mind. You’re going to want this again, no matter how much you push against it, and knowing that Gregor’s a willing participant, even if you’re ready to scream every curse you can think of at him right now, well, that makes it even easier to allow it to happen again.
If he’ll just let you finish.
He slows the roll of his hips, and you groan in frustration. Your desperation is clouding your mind at this point, and as you feel the finish line of your orgasm slipping away, you become frantic. He’s dangled you long enough, and after months and months of not having anything but your toys to sate you, you’ll allow yourself this small humiliation in order to get what you want.
“Please. Please, let me cum. I’ll say anything you want.”
He snickers, snapping his hips again, and you’re immediately back on the edge, tingling with anticipation as your entire body thrums with pleasure. You hate how easily he’s got you figured, how quickly he shoves you back to the precipice, and how smug he’s going to be about it.
You’ll be mad later. Right now, you can’t be bothered to care.
He leans closer, and you know what he’s waiting for.
“Thank you for fucking me like this, Gregor.”
His fingers press harder against your clit just as the tip of his cock slams into the spot no one else has ever come close to reaching. You claw at the wall in front of you as your vision whites out once more, and you feel him pull out of you, expending ropes of his seed across the curves of your ass.
He doesn’t let you fall, his hands flying to your waist and his weight pinning you in place against the wall as your knees threaten to crumble underneath you. His hold is much gentler than it was a moment ago, and he rests his chin on your shoulder as he recovers.
“That was fun,” he pants, and you can practically hear his mouth curling into a grin, but somehow, it’s not as smug as you thought it’d be. “We should do it again some time.”
“Not if you’re going to make a mess of me before sending me home,” you mutter, glancing around for something to wipe the quickly-cooling spend off of you.
“Allow me.”
You feel fabric wipe across your ass, and turning, you see Gregor tucking the soiled edge of his shirt back into his pants along with his cock. He shrugs when you raise an eyebrow.
“I imagine that wouldn’t be very comfortable in the cab home.”
“You imagine correctly.”
You stand there staring at one another for a moment awkwardly in the now-empty alley, Fives and his companion having finished their encounter and disappeared. This entire thing was unexpected to say the least, and neither of you know what comes next. You break into nervous laughter, straightening your panties and dress.
“I like your smile. Don’t get to see it very often.”
In spite of yourself, heat flushes across your face. You reach up to fix your hair, and a warm hand cups your cheek. You lock eyes with Gregor, and he’s staring at you so gently you almost forget how much you dislike him.
Almost.
“Don’t you even think of kissing me.”
“We already kissed.”
He has a point, but of course you won’t give any more ground. “I’d hardly call that a kiss.”
He huffs a laugh. “Fair enough.” He reaches out, brushing some of your hair back into place. It’s surprising, and fuck, your treacherous heart clenches just a bit at the tenderness of the gesture. It’s not because you’ve suddenly developed feelings for him, but you can’t remember the last time someone touched you like that, so gentle and warm.
It hasn’t been that long. And you’re not that desperate for affection. Just for a good fuck.
And this was a good fuck.
You survey him for another moment as he rubs the back of his neck. “I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about,” he offers.
“Do I look worried?”
“You look uneasy.” He smirks. “Although maybe it’s because the man you loathe made you cum. Twice.”
You cross your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes. Gregor steps closer, straightening the strap on your dress. “I meant what I said. I’d do it again. If you’d like.”
His brown eyes lock onto yours, and you consider it. Your shoulders do feel like they’ve dropped away from your ears, some of the tension you’ve been carrying for as long as you can remember seemingly vanished. And you feel like your fuse isn’t as short. Even the steady thrum of annoyance that you’ve felt tearing through you since the moment you laid eyes on Gregor seems to have abated slightly.
No one would suspect it since we hate each other. No expectations. Just sex. Really good sex.
I could use really good sex.
“I suppose I could tolerate you doing that when you’re planetside,” you concede. “But no one else finds out. And this is just sex.”
“Just sex,” he agrees, extending his hand to seal the deal. “Shake on it?”
“You’re an idiot,” you grumble, stepping past him, leaving his hand hanging in the air. He catches your waist from behind, pulling you back against him.
“Don’t forget this idiot that knows how your pussy feels wrapped around his cock. Now, are you going to give me your comm?”
“Fuck off. You know where to find me when you get back,” you mutter, ignoring the way your thighs are clenching together again at his words.
Get it the fuck together.
“True. Since you never leave that garage,” he snickers. Before you can protest, he pecks a kiss to your temple and gently pushes you forward by your ass, squeezing the curve of it a little. You stumble a bit, shooting him a glare over your shoulder.
“Get home safe, Bolts,” he says quietly. In spite of everything, he’s being sincere. And that’s nice.
You pause. “Yeah. You too.”
His smirk fades and his gaze softens at your words, but he quickly slips his default expression back into place. Raising an eyebrow, he gives you a two-fingered salute, and you roll your eyes again before walking off to find a cab.
A/N: ALRIGHTY THEN. Did I intend to write a part 2 for this little ficlet from my 400 follower celebration? No. Did I do it anyway and use it as an excuse to introduce my OC Crater? Yes. Will there be a Part 3? Also yes. I REGRET NOTHING. The biggest of thank you's to @teletraan-meets-jarvis, @sleepingsun501, and @rexxdjarin for helping me make sure my boy gets the best intro and that all of the thoughts/thots about him in my head translated well onto paper! If you'd like a little more info about Crater, you can find his character sheet here.
Pairings: OC Crater x f!Reader, mentioned Gregor x f!Reader
Rating: E (18+ MINORS SKEEDADDLE)
Warnings: language, dom/sub dynamics, spanking, fingering, rough sex, anal play, oral sex, PiV sex, marking, anal sex, sex toy use, cum eating, mention of foursome
Word Count: 13.5k words (I'm sorry... it got away from me so fast)
“KARKING HELLS, CHUCK! Do you have mynock shit between your ears instead of brains?”
You’re angry. Angrier than you’ve been in a while. And Chuckles isn’t backing down either.
“I don’t know who the kriff you think you’re talking to, Bolts, but you’d better take a walk before we both say something we’ll regret,” he grits out, teeth clenched and a fire in his eyes.
But you’re not about to be told what’s what. Not when he’s on your turf.
“It’s my fucking garage. You don’t like what I’ve got to say? You take a walk.” You jab your finger into his plastoid chestplate threateningly. His nostrils flare as he glares at you, and you can see him teetering on the edge of control.
You’ve gathered a bit of an audience as you and the mohawked clone pilot go nose to nose, some of which are snickering and “ooooh”-ing.
“Your garage?” Chuckles snarls.
“Yeah, in case you missed it, I run shit around here. And I’m telling you I can’t get your fucking fighter fixed until next week.”
“That’s not good enough.”
“You should have thought about that before smoking your stabilizers flying like a fucking hotshot.”
“You sure you wanna tell me how to fly my ship, Bolts?”
“Since you don’t seem to have an idea how to, sure.”
The vein in his neck is bulging now, and the scar at the corner of his mouth is pulled tight. You’ve known Chuckles long enough to tell that you’ve pushed all the right buttons to get a rise out of him.
Good. Asshole.
“I thought Gregor fucked the grump out of her,” Strike mutters from his seat on a crate, which garners more snickers. You whirl on him, brandishing a wrench and waving it menacingly at the pilot.
“You want me to fix your face next, shithead? Got the only thing I need for that right here.”
Strike scowls, pushing himself to a standing position. “You’re out of line, Bolts.”
“I’m out of line? Fuck you.”
“That’s enough.”
The jeers and laughter grow silent and the crowd parts as the commanding officer of the 28th Combat Wing strides forward, carrying his helmet under one arm. Crater’s voice is gruff as he steps in between Chuckles and you, glancing back and forth between the two of you.
“She’s right, and you know it Chuckles. You’ve been told before not to fly in that config. You know it burns out the stabs faster. Now, I’m sure you’ll get your fighter as quickly as Bolts can get to it. Isn’t that right, Bolts?”
You glare at him, but his eyes demand a response. “When I get the parts.”
Crater watches you for another moment before nodding. He seems to understand that’s as much of a concession as he’s going to get out of you right now.
And then he whirls on Strike. “And you will learn to hold your fucking tongue. We don’t do that shit here. You want to air other people’s business out in front of everyone? You go run for the fucking senate. Until then, you keep the scuttlebutt you hear to yourself.”
“Didn’t hear anything. Just not hard to put two and two together,” Strike mutters under his breath.
Crater strides forward until he’s looming over Strike. They’re the same height, but somehow, the captain towers over the other pilot. His tone is low and dangerous, his voice dropping to a gravelly octave that makes you shiver. “I know you haven’t been off of Kamino long, but around here, you don’t speak to a commanding officer that way. Especially when you don’t have a single scratch on that shiny fucking armor.”
Strike swallows slightly but says nothing else.
Crater glares down at him for one more second, pinning him with his gaze before he turns and addresses the rest of the onlookers. “Now all of you get to the fucking barracks and get cleaned up. You stink to the seven hells.”
The squad departs, some of them still shooting dirty looks over their shoulders at you, especially Chuckles.
He’ll get over it.
You turn on your heel, heading towards your private office in the corner of the garage. The door’s been off track for a while, so you slam it open unceremoniously and stride inside. Just as you go to slide it shut with a grunt, a gloved hand slips around the edge, keeping it open. You glance up and meet Crater’s eyes.
“Can we talk?”
You shrug, stepping away from the door and plopping down on the creaky chair by your desk. The joints protest as you lean back in it, threatening to finally give out and dump you on your ass. Crater shuts the door behind him before setting his helmet on your desk and leaning a shoulder against the wall, crossing his arms as he studies you. He looks tired, and you’re not sure if it’s the campaign he just got back from or his men or you. A small pang of guilt shoots through you as he meets your eyes, raising his scarred eyebrow at you.
“You wanna tell me what the hell that was all about?”
You sniff, shrugging as you pick some lint off your jumpsuit. “Nothin’. Just a scuffle.”
“Seems like you’re getting into more and more of those.”
You and Crater have always gotten along just fine, finding a mutual respect and trust almost immediately. He always seems to have everything figured out, and you’ve never seen him fly off the handle like some of his brothers. In fact, the incident in the garage just now is the most upset you’ve seen him, and even that was hardly more than a growl and a few threats. You admire his leadership. He always seems to find the right thing to say to each of the various personalities on his squad, but sometimes you dislike when he deploys the same understanding on you. It unnerves you to a degree.
Now, you roll your eyes at his observation, astute as it is. “Your boys don’t listen, Crate. Neither do any of the other flyboys that come through here. Everyone’s shit is broken because they can’t be bothered to fly with an ounce of sensibility, and then they’re all pissed when it takes time to get repairs done.” You wave your hand at the stacks of datapads and flimsi that are stacked on your desk. “I’ve got backorders on backorders, out-of-date maintenance logs, you name it. But I’m one person. And there’s not exactly a line to come work down here.”
“You’re stressed,” he notes.
“No shit.”
“Overwhelmed.”
“Tired of giving orders and making requests that are ignored.”
“Tired of being in charge?”
“Sometimes. Yeah,” you admit. “But someone has to be.”
He nods. “When’s Gregor planetside again?”
You glare at him, but he gives you a knowing look. You sigh. “Who the kriff knows? That’s not a regular thing, by the way. Just a way to blow off steam. But it’s been months since I saw him last. Seems he’s being kept busy.” You worry about the commando sometimes, but you’re not about to admit it. Judging by the look Crater gives you, you don’t need to.
“And you were more tolerable when it was happening,” he teases.
“Yeah, yeah. Well, I’m on my own in that department for the foreseeable future.”
You don’t know why you feel comfortable talking with him about Gregor. Probably because it felt less like an accusation and more of just a concerned observation, not like he was looking to get more gossip at your expense.
Because you trust him. Maybe too much.
Crater is quiet for a moment, watching you carefully, clearly weighing something.
“What?”
He smirks.
“Well, if you’d ever like to blow off some steam, let me know. But you can’t keep taking it out on my men.”
You snort out a laugh. “Crate, I don’t think you can help with that.”
“Oh, I think I could.”
“How so?” Your curiosity is piqued, particularly with the way his grin is playful but his eyes have darkened considerably. You’re in denial internally about what he might be implying, but that only lasts for another second as Crater huffs a quiet laugh before closing the distance between you. He puts one gloved hand on your desk, leaning over you as his other hand comes to rest just above your shoulder, gripping the back of your chair. Your stomach flutters as he stares down at you, tilted back in your chair so far you feel as though you’d tip over if he let go. The chair creaks, but you hardly note it over the sound of blood rushing in your ears. You can feel his breath on your cheek and your cunt throbs at the realization he’s standing between your knees, your toes barely touching the floor with the way he has you tipped backward. You feel as though you can’t breathe. He’s studying you again, clearly making a final judgment call before he speaks.
“I think you’d like someone else to take charge for once. So you can let go.”
His voice is so low, it feels as though it rumbles every organ in you and sends shivers down your spine. He’s so close, you can smell him, see the tattoos on his neck that just barely poke out above the collar of his black undersuit, and the greys that are beginning to dot his dark chestnut beard and hair. You’ve always thought Crater was attractive. You’d have to be blind not to, but you’d never anticipated having him lean over you like this, so close that you can feel the heat radiating off of him while he suggests things like that.
At least, you think that’s what he’s suggesting.
You can’t help but tremble slightly at the thought as his eyes bore holes into yours. Your thighs clench together subconsciously, and his eyes dart downwards, watching you squirm. He laughs in a low rasp that promises trouble, straightening and picking his helmet up off the desk. You haven’t moved, but he’s already at your door, pushing it open again.
“Remember what I said, Bolts. All of it.”
And with that, he’s gone.
—
Weeks pass. Nothing gets better. If anything, things get worse. A major supply hyperspace lane gets shut down by Separatist forces, meaning parts are even harder to come by, causing even more delays. At least the clone pilots seem more understanding, the 28th Wing in particular. You aren’t sure if Crater privately met with his men, but they have been suddenly more lenient with you. The natborns, however, make up for it by being infinitely more terrible.
“THIS IS COMPLETELY UNACCEPTABLE,” one particularly surly human admiral rants, spittle flying unchecked as you don’t even bother looking up from your datapad. “You are to have those fighters ready to go within a rotation. That is an order.”
“Well, unfortunately for you, Admiral, I don’t take orders from the GAR,” you mutter. “And unless you’ve got a stash of converters, stabilizers, hyperdrive capacitors, and power couplings in your back pocket, no, your fighters will not be ready to go in a rotation.”
“I’ll have your job for this.”
You’re exhausted, but can’t help but give him a smug smirk, nudging him even closer to an explosion. He’s easy prey in that respect, hardly sporting, but it’s been a miserable week, and you’re ready to have some fun. He’s not the first officer to try to intimidate you with unemployment, and you know he’s unlikely to be the last. But you also know it’s an empty threat. No one else could handle this work. If that person existed, the GAR would already have hired them since you’ve pissed off everyone else.
“I have work to do, Admiral. So if you’re done bloviating, get out of my office and try to have a lovely evening.”
The man is practically purple with rage, veins bulging from his throat above his tight Republic collar. He clearly isn’t used to having people check him, and his response is even more telling.
“I’d heard you were challenging, but really, you’re just a frigid little bitch.”
That does it.
You stand, kicking your seat away from you. It rolls into the back wall with a loud crash. “You wanna try that again, Admiral?” you ask, charging towards him with anger heating your cheeks. He’s taller than you, but that’s never stopped you, and you certainly aren’t going to let some washed-up asshole that reeks of stale caf and cheap cologne talk to you like that in your own office. His fists clench, and you almost hope he swings first so you have an excuse to pummel him right there.
“Problem in here?”
You both whirl to look at the doorway. There stands Crater, helmet on and cocked to the side as he studies the both of you. His posture is completely relaxed, as if he didn’t just walk in on the start of a physical altercation.
It takes all of the wind out of your sails.
The admiral turns and smirks down at you, clearly convinced he’s won by your reaction. “I was just leaving.” He pushes past Crater, exiting the office. Crater’s visor never leaves you, but you can’t look at him.
You’re fuming. Angry that nothing’s going right. Angry that your garage can’t run efficiently and the reasons are completely out of your control. Angry that you didn’t sock that admiral in the jaw. Angry that he got the best of you and he knows it.
Crater says your name, but you don’t look up, trying to slow your breathing. He sighs and turns to leave.
You make a decision.
“Captain.”
He turns back.
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips as you plunge into uncharted territory.
“I’ll take you up on that offer you made a few weeks back.”
He doesn’t move for a moment before, clearly making sure you won’t change your mind. Some of your fire returns at his hesitation, and you jut your chin out defiantly.
“Chickening out on me?” you challenge.
In an instant, he’s closed the distance between you and has backed you up against the wall. Your breath fogs his visor as he stares down at you, resting his hand against your throat.
“You certain you want to be a brat right out of the gate?”
You swallow hard, feeling the gloved palm of his hand press against your neck.
“Might want to pace yourself. Otherwise you’ll be in for a long night,” he warns.
“What makes you think that isn’t what I was hoping for?”
He chuckles darkly, and the helmet’s modulator seems to make it even more intimidating.
“What are your hard no’s?”
“You’ll be hard-pressed to find them,” you reply. Your mouth is dry, but other places are already soaking. You’re almost glad he has you braced against the wall because your knees suddenly feel gelatinous beneath you.
He tilts his head. “Think on it a bit more. Have an answer when I come back from my briefing. Then we’ll begin.” He releases your throat and steps back. “Be ready.”
He once again leaves you alone in your office, shivering in his absence.
How the fuck do I get ready for this?
You brush your hair out of your face, catching a glance at your reflection in the small mirror you have stuck to one wall. You’re covered in grease and sweat, and your hair is sticking out at odd angles.
A shower then.
You’re glad the day’s over as you slide your office door closed. It would be hard to concentrate on anything else right now. You push through the door that connects to the small apartment and refresher that have become your home away from home. It had been one of your few stipulations when you took the job, knowing you’d rarely make it back down to your lower-level Coruscant apartment. It had originally been a large storage closet, but with some work, you’d converted it into a decent-sized bedroom, stacking a few changes of clothes in an empty crate in one corner. The bed was at least comfortable, tucked up against one wall with a small bedside table next to it. You quickly shove the dirty clothes strewn on the floor in a corner before shucking off your jumpsuit and hurriedly showering. You don’t have any sort of lingerie or anything remotely alluring here, and you’re considering what to wear while wrapped in a towel when you hear a soft knock at your door.
You turn and find Crater’s silhouette looming there, blocking out the dim light of your office.
“That was a quick briefing.”
He shrugs as if he’s used to coming upon you in only a towel.
“You shut the office door?” you ask.
“Yes. And you should really get that fixed.” His helmet is off, and his dark eyes are roving over you and your towel-covered body.
“Add it to my list,” you mutter, trying to maintain some sort of confidence under his stare. “I’m sure that admiral will be so pleased to hear it takes priority over his fighters.”
He snorts in amusement as he steps into the room, shutting the apartment door behind him. He sets the helmet on the ground before he starts peeling off the top half of his armor, one piece of plastoid at a time, and neatly stacking it in the corner.
“Did you think more on what your hard no’s are?” he asks.
You’d come up with a few and rattle them off.
“Those are fairly extreme. Don’t think you’ll have to worry about that,” he rasps. The top half of his armor is completely off now, and he rolls up the sleeves of his black shirt as he approaches you, circling you slowly. “But I’m glad you put serious thought into it and came up with something.”
“You got anything I need to avoid doing?” you ask, trying not to nervously rock on your heels. You’d rarely had issues with people seeing you naked, but for some reason, Crater’s gaze has you feeling timid, even with the towel still hiding your body.
“I don’t think you’ll get there, but I’ll let you know if you get close,” he replies as he comes to a stop in front of you. His sleeves are rolled all the way to his elbows, and you can see the tendrils of the other end of his tattoos poking out on his forearms. You’d never realized how far his tattoos stretched, only ever having seen the fine lines that poked out of the collar of his shirt. Now, you find you want to know how much of his skin is inked and how far the pattern stretches.
“My eyes are up here, gorgeous.”
You flush, but raise your eyes to meet his steady gaze. He’s watching you carefully and fuck, you want to squirm with him looking at you like that.
“So you respond to praise then. You prefer that?”
You shrug. “Could go both ways.”
“Where would you like me to cum?”
You can’t help but smirk at that question, but his expression is stern. “Wherever you like,” you reply. “I’ve got an implant.”
He hums, gently brushing some of your damp hair out of your face, a tender gesture that contrasts sharply with his next question. “May I mark you?”
“Nowhere the jumpsuit can’t cover.”
“How rough would you like me to be?”
You think for a moment. “Breathplay is good. Impact too. Bruising is fine. Nothing that would draw blood.”
He smirks. “Good girl.”
Your thighs rub together, and he notices, huffing a quiet laugh.
“Toys I can use?”
You point to the bedside table. “In that drawer.”
“You know the color system?”
You nod.
“Give me your definitions.”
“Green is good. Yellow is slow down. Red is stop.”
“And if you can’t verbally communicate?”
“Three taps.” You reach out and demonstrate on his chest, letting your fingertips rest there.
He catches your hand. “I want to be very clear here. You are under no obligation to do anything with me. And if you say red, we stop. No debate, no questions. This is for your benefit, so I’ll push, but when I hit a limit, you have to let me know. Deal?”
You can’t help but smile there. “Deal.”
“Any other last requests?”
“Ruin me.” The words fall out of your mouth before you realize you’ve said them, but you don’t regret them. You need this, and he can see it. Crater’s eyes darken even more, and he grins wickedly as he pulls your wrist to his lips. You feel his beard scratch your skin, and you shiver at the thought of where else you may feel that sensation before the night is over.
“With pleasure.” He cups your jaw, running a thumb over your lower lip. “You will refer to me as Captain or sir. Understood?”
A thrill shoots through you, and you push your luck, shrugging. “Sure.”
His nostrils flare and his grip on your jaw tightens. “You are such a fucking brat,” he whispers. “I'll fix that.” He grips the towel, giving it a firm yank and tossing it in the corner. He steps back and studies you. You shiver again, although you can’t be sure if it’s from the chill on your damp skin or his piercing gaze. He circles you again, inspecting every inch of your body. You feel yourself tremble slightly as he leans in, his breath hot against your ear. “On your knees.”
You think about pushing him further, but decide against it, at least for the moment, slowly sinking to your knees and gazing up at him expectantly.
“Open your mouth.”
You narrow your eyes at him. He squats down in front of you, balancing on the balls of his feet, watching you. You start to giggle from nerves, but his hand rockets out, catching your jaw again and squeezing until your lips part from the pressure.
He slips the tip of his glove into your mouth.
“Bite,” he grits out.
He loosens his hold just enough for you to do as you’re told this time, gently taking the tip of the fabric between your teeth. His fingers slip out of the glove, and he takes it from you. He repeats the exercise with his other glove, tucking them both in his back pocket. Warm tan fingers press on your lower lip, and you open your mouth, allowing him in. Two fingers slide in, pressing on your tongue. Saliva pools in your mouth, but Crater keeps your jaw pried open until you feel some drool slide down your chin.
“Messy girl,” he rasps. “Suck.”
You close your lips around his fingers, sucking gently on the pads. You can taste his sweat, slightly salty against your tongue.
“Oh, come on, gorgeous. With a mouth like that, I expected more. You’re going to have to do better than that if you want me to let you suck my cock later.”
You feel your cunt throb and you inhale sharply as warmth floods between your legs. You’re certain you’re dripping onto the floor by now, and it’s only been a few minutes.
“You like that thought, don’t you?” Crater asks, shoving his fingers into the back of your throat. You gag, and he starts to withdraw, but you catch his wrist, pressing his fingers deeper while you run your tongue over his knuckles.
Crater’s brow furrows and his lips part slightly as he watches you gag again on his fingers, but you keep going, obediently sliding them in and out of your mouth. You hum around him, and you can see he’s fighting to maintain control. You grin.
“Something to say, pretty girl?” he asks, shoving another finger into your mouth. “Go on.”
“Having fun, Captain?” is what you try to ask, but it comes out garbled around his digits.
“Try again, gorgeous. I can’t understand you.”
You glare up at him and he smirks before withdrawing his fingers.
“I was always told it’s rude to talk with my mouth full, sir,” you snark.
“You’ve had no problem being rude up until this point,” he murmurs, letting his damp hand trail across your collarbone before grazing your breast.
You clench around nothing. It's been months since anyone touched you.
He notices your response, raising his eyebrow as he pinches one nipple between his fingers and tugs it gently. You whimper quietly.
“Needy,” he observes.
“Been a while.” He pinches your nipple harder. “Sir,” you gasp.
“Hmm.” He releases you, pushing himself to a standing position. You shift, trying to gain some source of friction, but he slips a knuckle under your chin, tilting your head upwards. “None of that. You take what I give, and nothing more. Understood?”
You bat your eyelashes at him. “Yes, sir.”
Crater stares down at you with an unamused expression for another half a beat before releasing you. He crosses your room to your nightstand and pulls open the drawer, rummaging inside. You can see his eyes raking over the contents, carefully cataloging everything before he holds up your plug, glancing over at you.
“You stretch yourself on this?”
“Yes, sir,” you say quietly.
“Anyone ever taken you there?”
“No.” It’s something you’ve always wanted to try, but you’ve never had a partner you felt bold enough to ask. And those that have asked have always seemed too eager. So you’ve resorted to toys, stuffing your ass full with the plug as you fucked your cunt with another toy. But no matter how many times you came, teeth clenched around the fabric of your pillowcase, your curiosity about the real thing still wasn’t sated. You always knew it would have to be with someone you trust completely, someone you know won’t push you or your boundaries just to lay claim to you.
Someone like Crater.
He stays silent, clearly expecting more from you.
You try to stutter out a more thorough response. “B-but I like to feel full when I…”
“When you what, pretty girl?”
“When I fuck myself.”
The corner of his lip curls. “Filthier than I thought. Good.” He takes out a bottle of lube, your dildo with the remote, and the plug and sits on the bed with them next to him. He leans forward on his knees, crooking a finger towards you.
“Come here, gorgeous.”
You grin, falling forward on your hands and crawling towards him, allowing your ass to sway back and forth. His face remains neutral as you slide between his knees, running your hands over the plastoid that still covers his thighs. You’ve always been good at finding the right buttons to push with people, but Crater has largely remained a mystery to you in all the time that you’ve known him. Now, you watch carefully as you scrape your fingers closer to his inner thigh, watching for any telltale twitch. You want to see if you can make him crack.
He’s immovable.
“You seem to think this is some sort of competition,” he says quietly, as though he can read your thoughts. “You won’t break me, sweetheart.”
You pout your lips. “You’re no fun.”
He slips one hand into your hair and grips tightly, pulling your head back as he leans over you again. You can feel the roots of your hair tug sharply, and it sends another thrill through you. Crater leans forward to whisper directly into your ear. His beard scrapes your cheek, and his breath is hot against the shell of your ear. “You’re still being a brat.”
“I thought pilots enjoyed a challenge,” you manage to gasp.
“I do.” He releases your hair, and you sit back. He shifts back on the bed and pats his knees. You start to straddle one, but he places a hand on your hip, stilling you. “No, love. Over them.”
Your legs quiver at the realization of what he’s asking, and your mouth falls open slightly.
“Tick-tock, pretty girl. The longer you stand there and waste my time, the longer this’ll be.”
You drape yourself over his thighs slowly, shuddering at the chill of the plastoid and how the edges of it bite into your skin. You rest your elbows and knees on the mattress on either side of him, balancing as he pushes down on the small of your back to arch it to his liking. Your ass is in the air, and it feels so exposed. Crater rubs small circles in your spine before allowing his hand to drift downward, lightly passing over the curve of your ass. You feel your skin explode in an array of goosebumps as a jolt shoots through you. You unleash a shuddering breath.
“You are needy. So eager to be touched,” he teases as he traces down the curve of your ass, curling his fingers on the inside of your thigh. He’s so close to where you want him, but he steers clear of your dripping cunt. For now.
“I think fifteen is a good start considering how you’ve behaved the last few weeks,” he rasps. “And if you’re good, I’ll let you have my cock.”
“Fifteen, huh? Can you count that high, Captain?” you ask, earning yourself a sharp pinch to your nipple with his other hand. You inhale sharply, biting back a curse.
“Twenty then. And you’ll be the one counting. I’m sure you can do that, can’t you, smart girl?”
You open your mouth to retort, but the first smack lands hard, biting into the skin of your asscheek. Heat floods through you and your mouth falls open.
You’re already craving another.
“Count for me, or we start over.”
“One,” you pant.
He continues, landing some blows over the same area, and you can feel the heat and redness bloom there. Other times, he moves onto an untouched patch of skin, and the shock of sudden pain makes you squirm, desperate for some sort of friction against your neglected clit. It feels as though electricity is licking up your spine with every strike, the pain giving way to a euphoria you’ve never before experienced as his warm palm soothes your stinging skin in between each blow.
But you keep count.
“See, I knew you could be a good girl for me. You’re doing so well,” he whispers as he rubs the place you’re certain he just left a handprint. “Halfway there.” One hand curls around your thigh again, and you feel fingers finally brush against your folds, slipping along them with ease. “I see you’re enjoying yourself,” Crater observes. “You’re soaked.” He lifts his fingers to his lips, sucking your taste off of them before he lets his hand slip back between your legs, sinking two of his thick digits into you. You fist the blankets as the next blow lands at the same time Crater curls his fingers inside of you.
“Ah fuck! Eleven!”
Crater pulls out slightly out before pressing back into the knuckle, driving into you. He finds the spongy place inside of you and bears down on it as he spanks you again in the same place. Your eyes roll back into your head.
“T-twelve.”
“Good girl.”
SMACK.
“Thirteen,” you whine. The plastoid is so cold against your heated, sweaty skin as you writhe in his lap, trying to press back against his hand. He adds a third finger.
“Who would have known all it took for you to be nicer was a few spanks and some fingers in your pussy?” Crater chuckles. “Such a desperate girl.”
“Please,” you whisper.
“Please what?”
“More.”
“So polite all of a sudden.” He presses against your asshole with his thumb, and you arch your back, pushing against him. “Oh, you want me to take you there, don’t you? Want me to claim your ass tonight?”
You do. You want him to, and he knows it. You mouth a silent “yes” as you glance back at him, and his eyebrow raises at your muted admission.
Crater hums as he pushes harder against the tight ring of muscle and you gasp. Your knuckles are white with how hard you’re gripping the sheets.
“Color?”
“Green. Fuck. Green.”
SMACK.
“FOURTEEN.”
Your breath is coming in short pants as he rubs at the raised, tender flesh of your ass. You hear the click of a cap, and suddenly his thumb is pressed back against your asshole again, slicker than before. He pushes forward, breaching the tight ring of muscle as he curls his fingers in your cunt again.
“Oh, Maker, yes. Right there, Crate-”
SMACK.
“It’s Captain or sir,” he reminds you in that same gravelly tone he used on Strike, sending a shiver through you. “Now what do we say when someone gives you what you want?”
“Fifteen! Thank you, sir,” you gasp, tears starting to pool in the corners of your eyes.
“Good girl.”
You clench around his fingers at the praise, and he huffs another laugh, pressing his thumb deeper into your ass. He lands the next few blows in rapid succession.
SMACK.
“SIXTEEN. THANK YOU, CAPTAIN.”
SMACK.
“FUCK. SEVENTEEN. THANK YOU, SIR.”
You can feel the coil tightening in your stomach as he lands two more, nearing the end. After nineteen, you’re babbling in his lap, desperately pressing back against his hand, trying to fuck yourself on his fingers.
“You think you deserve to cum?” he asks.
“Pleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” you whimper.
“Not yet, pretty girl.”
SMACK.
“Twenty,” you sob.
He removes his fingers from you, and you immediately feel painfully empty. His other palm rests on your back, rubbing soothing circles as you feel your pulse in your fluttering, empty cunt.
“You did so well,” he praises. You quiver under his touch. “Are you still green?”
“Still g-green,” you stutter.
“Louder.”
“Green,” you declare more firmly.
“Good. Lie down.”
He helps you stand on shaky legs, carefully moving you to lie on your back on the bed. You feel the softness of the blanket rub against the inflamed skin of your ass and thighs, and you shudder at the thought of the marks that’ll be there tomorrow, a reminder of your night with the captain.
But he’s far from done with you.
“Wait here,” he commands. “Don’t touch yourself.”
“Yes, sir,” you sigh with a hint of a whine.
He retreats to the refresher, washing his hand before he comes back, his head tilted as he watches you, laid out for him on your bed. He quickly removes the rest of his armor and boots, grinning smugly as your eyes follow every new part of him that’s exposed to you. You want him, and he knows it. Reaching for his waist, he tugs his shirt up and over his head, tossing it next to his armor.
He’s fucking stunning. You knew he would be, but somehow still weren’t prepared. The tattoos you’d seen evidence of curl from his elbows over his shoulders, weaving in geometric patterns across his collarbone and shoulder blades before reaching up his neck, where they end. Each line seems to flawlessly frame a muscle or tendon, perfectly accentuating it. His body is littered with small scars, with one larger one visible on his hip, dipping below the waistline of his pants. Without his codpiece, you can see the pronounced outline of his cock, straining against the black fabric. Your mouth waters, and you lick your lips, meeting his eyes.
“Not yet,” he teases.
You’re huffy now, having recovered slightly from your denied orgasm, and he glowers at you as you pout.
“Hands under the headboard,” he orders. You glare at him for another moment, and he raises his eyebrow again in warning. You concede, slipping your fingers under the wooden edge and gripping it tightly. “Good. Keep them there,” he orders as he slowly approaches the bed. “Or else I’ll get some binders.”
“Probably the most use they’ll have gotten,” you snicker.
“You really want to make this difficult?”
“Got a reputation to keep up.”
He snorts before climbing onto the bed and straddling you, lowering his body onto yours slowly. You can feel the warmth of his chest against your skin, and your body is screaming at you to wrap your legs around him, but you really aren’t that interested in the binders that he threatened you with.
You’re more interested in getting his cock inside of you as quickly as possible.
Crater is infuriatingly patient and precise in his motions, but then again, you suppose that’s why he commands an entire combat wing. He slips his hand into your hair again, gripping but not pulling. He tilts your head slightly, exposing your neck to him. “If I remember correctly, your jumpsuit collar goes to about here,” he whispers, nosing at the perceived boundary on the skin of your throat. His beard is tickling you, and you’re shaking with anticipation. “That seem right to you?”
“Yes, s-sir,” you stutter.
“Already a mess and I’ve hardly started,” he rasps, an amused smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. “I’ll have you begging soon enough.” He kisses your neck, and you let out a sharp exhale. You’ve tried to play it neutral, but somehow, he’s zoned in on the exact spot you like to be kissed, the spot that drives you wild. And he notices the way you respond, bearing down on it with his teeth and tongue. You start to grind against him, desperate for any sort of friction, desperate to feel his cock. You manage to catch the head of it on your clit through his pants, rubbing for a millisecond before his unoccupied hand locks firmly on your hip, holding you still.
“You’ll take what I give, pretty girl,” he snarls in your ear. “And the longer you’re greedy, the longer you’ll wait to have me fill that pretty pussy.”
You whine but relent, letting him resume his attack on your neck and collar bone. He works slowly and methodically, marking you as he works his way to your breasts, where he seemingly spends an eternity lavishing them with attention. He sucks bruises, he bites gently, and he takes your nipples in his mouth, paying special attention to what makes you writhe and gasp.
And then he moves lower, slipping between your legs and kissing just below your navel as he spreads your legs wide with his hands on the back of your thighs. His breath is so warm against your dripping cunt, and you spasm in his grip as he blows on you purposefully.
“Asshole,” you grumble.
He bites the inside of your thigh hard, and you yelp. Looking down, you can already see the bruise blossoming where his teeth caught your skin.
“Only nice girls get to cum. Now, remember, keep your hands where they are.”
He nuzzles against the flesh of your unmarked thigh, placing warm kisses and gentle bites. His beard scrapes the tender skin just before his teeth graze you, threatening to mark you where only you’ll see. You close your eyes, tipping your head back as you try to fight the way your legs are trembling, but that earns you a sharp slap to the inside of your thigh.
“Eyes on me, pretty girl.”
You catch your lip between your teeth as you obey, your eyes finding his brown ones, which seem to be practically glowing. He keeps his gaze locked with yours as he nuzzles your clit, blowing on it gently. You whine, and your legs try to close, but he firmly holds them open.
“I’m going to break you,” he whispers. “By the time I’m done, all you’ll know is my name and the word ‘please’.”
You tremble again just as he dives in, driving his tongue and eating you ravenously as you gasp and thrash in his grasp.
Crater is a master at pulling you apart slowly, and he takes his time, working you to the edge with his tongue and mouth and then chuckling as he pulls away, leaving you trembling and crying out in frustration. He’s a quick study and eventually adds his fingers, thrusting into your cunt as he suckles at your clit in the way that he now knows will have you clenching and gasping. The third time he deprives you, you unleash a frustrated growl, and he laughs quietly at your frustration.
“Please, Captain,” you whine. “Please.”
“Not yet.”
He goes at you again, alternating with his tongue and his fingers, and it feels as though it only takes seconds for your body to begin to tighten, begging for the release that he’s robbed you of.
“Knew you’d taste good,” he mumbles into your skin as he presses his fingers back inside of you. “So sweet and warm.”
“P-p-please. Please.”
He nips at your thigh and you cry out, tears leaping into your eyes as droplets of perspiration dot your forehead. Crater bears down on the spot inside of you, watching you as you babble.
“Please, I'll do anything you want. Please, sir, please. I need it.”
“Tell me what you need, gorgeous.”
“I need to cum. Please. Do anything you want to me. Please just let me cum. PLEASE!”
“Not yet.”
You sob.
He keeps working you, disintegrating your resolve with every pass of his tongue and his fingers. The scratch of his beard is delicious, contrasting sharply with the warmth of his mouth and the soft press of his tongue against you as he laps at your heat.
“Captain, please. Gods above, I’ll let you have anything.”
“Anything?”
“Yes. I’ll suck your cum out of your cock. You can have my ass. I’ll give you anything.”
He chuckles. “At the bargaining phase, are we?”
The tears are streaming from your eyes, and you unleash a choked sob.
“Ask me again.”
You’re gasping now, teetering on the edge.
“Please, Captain. Please let me cum.”
“Good girl.” He kisses your clit, and you moan, your knuckles aching from how hard you’re holding the headboard.
“Cum for me.”
You do, screaming his name as your body spasms with wave after wave of your orgasm. He holds you in place, working you through it until your body finally sags into the bed, slick with sweat and wrung out. Your mind is hazy as you feel him crawl up next to you, pressing his fingers against your lips. You let your mouth fall open, welcoming them in as you clean your release from the pads of his fingers. When he’s satisfied, he leans over you and kisses you, and you can feel how wet his beard is from your release. He reaches up as he kisses you, pulling your hands from the headboard. You immediately bury them in his dark curls, running your fingers over the back of his head, relishing this new touch he’s permitted.
The way Crater kisses you feels as though he’s stealing the air from your lungs. His tongue gently finds its way inside your mouth, running along your lower lip as his hands wander your body, gently rubbing and caressing. After what feels like an eternity and not long enough, he relents, resting his forehead against yours.
“Are you ready to continue, my gorgeous girl?”
“Yes, sir.” You’d been determined to make this harder for him, but he’s broken you, and you’re more than ready to bend to whatever his will may be. You trust him implicitly, just like you always have, but somehow, it feels deeper now. You know as rough as he may be with you here, he’ll never hurt you in a way you don’t ask for. His eyes are staring directly into yours as he strokes your cheek tenderly.
“So good for me,” he whispers. He kisses your cheek, moving along your jaw until he reaches your ear. He gently takes your earlobe between his teeth as he grips your thigh, coaxing you to wrap your legs around him. You do it immediately, quivering again at the thought of finally being filled by his cock.
Crater is kicking his pants off as he whispers into your ear. “Now that you’re being good, I’m going to fuck you until you’re boneless. You’re going to cum exactly as many times as I want you to, and no less. But you have to ask me first, and ask nicely. Do you understand?”
You nod.
“Use your words, love.”
“Yes, sir. I understand.”
“Color?”
You can feel the head of his cock resting against the puffy, soaked lips of your pussy. Crater is stroking himself against your slit, coating himself with your release. You look down and see he’s as big as Gregor, but with a little more girth, and Maker above you’ve never wanted anything more.
“Green.”
He grunts as he notches his head at your entrance. “Good girl.”
Crater enters you slowly, watching your face as he breaches you. Your release makes it easier to take him, but not easy. You feel your walls stretch to accommodate him as he slowly thrusts shallowly into you, pressing a little deeper each time. Every time his head catches your entrance, you whimper, and he responds with a thrust. You can feel how tightly you’re stretched around him, every ridge apparent as he takes what you’re more than willing to surrender.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this,” he whispers.
You reach up to touch his face, and he catches your hand, pressing a kiss to the inside of your wrist before he leans forward and captures your lips again. He groans into your mouth as he bottoms out, pressing his hips against yours, and the feeling of him inside of you is bliss you’ve never experienced. He stays still, but his entire body is tensed, a taut spring waiting to be unleashed. He strokes your cheek.
“Are you ready?”
“Yes, sir.”
“I won’t be gentle.”
You raise your head, grazing his lips with yours. “I don’t want you to be.”
He chuckles darkly. “Good.”
His hips draw back before slamming against yours, and you see stars as the head of his cock finds the perfect place inside you. He starts off at a steady but hard pace, knocking the wind from you with every thrust of his hips. His hands wander your body, squeezing your breasts, playing with your clit, finding every place that makes you unfurl more underneath him.
At one point, he sits up, placing his hands at the back of your knees and pushing them towards your chest. The angle of his next thrust has you screaming to religious entities you don’t even believe in as he reaches impossibly deeper inside of you. His thrusts are deliberate and perfectly timed, his fingers bruising, and it’s not long before you’re pleading with him again.
“Maker, I’m gonna cum again. Please let me cum, Captain. Please.”
“Yeah? Already? You’re not making this very difficult.” He sheathes himself to the hilt and holds there. It feels as though he’s rearranging your insides, and you’re shocked you can’t see an outline of his cock through your stomach.
“Gods. Please, Crate. I’m so full.” Tears are leaking from the corners of your eyes as he drags himself out again, leaving just the head inside of you. His thumb presses against your clit with a feather-light touch, and you jolt at the contact, whining desperately.
“Not yet, you’re not,” he rasps. You feel his fingers prod at your asshole, and you fist the sheets, arching your back as your mouth falls open. You hear the click of the lube bottle opening again.
“Color?”
“G-green.”
His cock slips from you, and you want to scream, but he holds your legs where they are, and you feel the blunt head of the plug nudge your other entrance.
“Relax for me, pretty girl.”
You do, inhaling and exhaling deeply as you quiver with anticipation. The plug slips inside you, and it’s bliss you’ve never experienced. Crater watches you for a moment before he slides his cock back inside of your pussy, folding you back in half again.
You’ve never felt this full before, never this pleasured, and you’re not sure you’ll ever feel this way again.
But you need it.
“Fuck. Don’t stop.”
A hand settles on your throat, firmer than the last time he grasped you like that.
“Eyes open for me, love.”
You didn’t even realize you’d closed them, but your eyes flutter open and find Crater’s in the dim lighting. They’re piercing. Your tongue darts out to wet your lips, and his gaze follows it.
“Do as you’re told, yeah?” he groans.
“Yes, sir,” you gasp.
The grip on your throat tightens slightly, pressing on the sides. “Squeeze for me.”
You focus on contracting your muscles even though your mind feels like a blur. Crater grunts as your cunt tightens around him. “Good girl. Good fucking girl.” His cock slams into you, and you relax, letting him fill you.
“Again.”
Crater releases your legs, fucking you with his hand around your neck. You’ve never tried spice, but you imagine this has to be what it’s like. You’re floating, you’re moaning, you’re sweating, all while wave after wave of pleasure washes over you, more intense with every thrust of Crater’s hips as the head of his cock continues to stroke that perfect place inside you. The grip on your throat tightens when he wants you to flex your muscles, and after a few cycles of it, you tighten around him without having to be asked. Crater’s fucking you in earnest now, the hand still around your throat, and your head is swimming. He releases you for a second, watching you.
“Color?”
“Green,” you whisper.
“Louder for me.”
“Green,” you say more firmly.
He’s still watching, and you see a flicker of something, concern maybe.
“I said I’m green, Crater.”
He takes your hand, placing it on his side. “Tap if you need.”
“I will. Now please fuck me.”
The grip tightens again, and you’re back to floating, and before you know it, you’re begging him again.
“Cum on my cock, pretty girl.”
You do. You cum hard, clawing at his back as he bites your shoulder. Your vision whites out as you writhe underneath him, clenching around his cock until the orgasm subsides, leaving you panting.
“Good. That’s two.”
“How many you shooting for?” you gasp.
“As many as it takes. Now on your knees for me, love.”
You roll over onto your knees, bracing yourself against your elbows. You feel exposed like this, back arched and presenting yourself to the captain. You feel him staring at your dripping heat, and you shiver under his gaze. His fingers trace along your lips as he positions himself behind you, nudging your knees apart as he presses his cock back into you. Your back arches almost by instinct, and he groans as he bottoms out, leaning over you. You feel his abdomen press against the plug in your ass, and you try to push backwards to drive it in deeper, but a sharp smack to your ass makes you freeze.
“What did I tell you about being greedy?” he rasps. “You take what I give you.”
You squeeze around him in the only act of defiance you can muster, and he chuckles darkly before he leans forward, pinning your arms behind your back with one hand while fisting your hair with the other. The roots of your hair creak again under his grip, but the pain is beautiful as he slams into your cunt again with a wet slap that makes your face burn.
“You talk a big game, but I know what you really crave,” he grunts as he fucks you. “You want to be told how filthy you are. You want to be used like this, to surrender to someone else. You want someone else to take charge. Your dripping little cunt tells me everything I need to know.” He’s got his weight tipped forward onto the small of your back, arching it even further as he snaps his hips into you again, accelerating the pace with each thrust until he’s pounding you into your mattress. Your head is pulled back and forth by the grip he has on your hair, and you allow yourself to go limp as Crater drives into you again and again. You’re more than happy to let him use you, especially as he strokes your insides deliciously, stretching you around his cock as your ass relaxes around the plug. It’s bliss.
After a few minutes, he adjusts again, tipping further forward, and suddenly, he finds the deepest part of you again, and he knows it when you moan loudly under him. He slows, dragging himself out of you before thrusting roughly back in, and you try to bury your face in the sheets to hide the obscene whines that are falling from your lips. But a rough tug of your hair turns your face outward, and you gasp and moan, some of your saliva leaking onto the sheets as Crater fucks you.
“None of that, love. I want to hear every noise you make.”
He pulls you apart, piece by piece, yanking another orgasm from you in a matter of minutes before he flips you back onto your back, pulling your ankles up to rest on his shoulders and gripping your hips as he pistons into you roughly. You lose track of how many times you’ve orgasmed, and each time, Crater only allows you a moment to catch your breath before he’s moving you again, gripping your body roughly and taking what he wants from you. You’re boneless and malleable, and he’s seemingly insatiable.
He’s fucking you on your back again, with one leg extended between his with the other on his shoulder as he drives into your soaked cunt. Sweat is trickling down his neck, trailing along the lines of his tattoos. His dark curls are glistening with moisture, and one drop falls from his nose, landing on your abdomen as he snaps his hips into you relentlessly.
“I’m almost there, love,” he gasps. “Gonna fill this pretty pussy up.”
You’re panting with exertion, trying to hold your orgasm at bay as he grips your hip, driving himself into you impossibly deeper. You worry that his orgasm will mean the end of this night, and he seems to notice your concern.
“Ask for what you want, pretty girl.”
You’re suddenly shy, even with his cock buried inside you, even wearing the marks of his teeth and his hands on your flesh.
He slows, whispering your name. “Tell me what you want.”
“I… I want you to fuck my ass. I want you to have me there, Crater.”
His eyes search yours for a second before he resumes his relentless pace. “I’m going to cum in this pussy. Then you’re going to clean my cock off with that smart mouth of yours. And once I’m nice and hard again, I’ll claim you there. That what you want?”
Heat rises in your cheeks. “Y-yes.”
“Yes what?”
“Yes, sir. Please sir.”
“Good girl.”
He leans forward, adjusting to the angle that he knows will rip another orgasm from you, and sure enough, you’re pleading with him again in a matter of seconds. This time, he’s merciful.
“Cum with me. Right now. Do it.”
You’ve never been so responsive to a lover, never felt as though your body was perfectly calibrated to follow their commands, but Crater’s words send you hurtling over the edge, and you feel him twitch as he empties himself inside of you. It takes several thrusts, and you’re certain you’re full of his cum, dripping with it.
His final thrusts make obscene sounds, and you feel the warm stickiness dribble out of you. Crater pushes himself up on his hands and knees, reaching for the dildo and gently nestling it inside of you, replacing his cock. It’s cold and not enough compared to him, but your disappointment only lasts a moment as he crawls to the head of your bed, sitting against your headboard with his legs spread. He reaches for the remote on your nightstand and beckons you forward.
“Come clean me off, love. Get me ready to take you again.”
You feel as though you’re drunk as you roll yourself onto your hands and knees, clumsily crawling towards him on wobbly limbs. He watches you with a slight smirk as you drop to your elbows between his knees, nuzzling at his abdomen and kissing the scar on his hip. He gently brushes your hair out of your face, gathering it in one hand.
“You want this, love?”
“So much,” you whisper.
His cock is still half-hard, glistening with your combined releases, and you gently wrap your lips around the head, swirling your tongue around the tip. The taste is salty and tangy and warm, and you can’t believe how quickly you crave it, slipping him further into your mouth. He grunts in surprise as you suddenly feel a second wind overtake you, making you eager to run your tongue along every inch of him. You clean him until your saliva replaces the slick cum on his shaft, tracing veins and flicking the head of his cock with your tongue. You hear a dull thunk as his head falls back against your headboard, and he gathers your hair in one hand, applying pressure to the back of your head.
You want him to use you. You want him to bruise the back of your throat. You want him to make your voice rasp in the morning as a reminder of this night.
His cock hits the back of your throat, but you hold yourself there, fighting your gag reflex and the tears that are blurring your vision. You can see his abdomen heaving as he experimentally thrusts into your mouth, testing your limits. You swallow around him.
Crater moans.
“Good fucking girl. Maker, I knew that mouth would be incredible. Gonna have to be careful or else I’ll cum down your throat, love.”
You hum and the grip on your hair tightens as you feel his cock swell and pulse against your tongue.
“Oh, you want that do you? You want me to fuck your mouth?”
The sounds as your saliva squelches around him are obscene, but he begins pistoning up into your mouth, moving your head to meet his thrusts. You rest one hand on his thigh in case you need it, and you feel his muscles tense with every snap of his hips.
“So fucking good. I should come by more often just to do this. Shut your office door and fuck your throat when you get mouthy with me. You love this, don’t you? Love being put in your place. Love being used to slick my cock, you sloppy little thing. Relax your throat for me. Oh, fuck, yes. Just like that.”
You’ve never heard him this vocal, and as you manage to glance up, you see how his lips are slightly parted. His brows are furrowed, and you can tell you might finally have him knocked slightly off balance. A new wave of arousal shoots through you at the thought of making Crater crumble. With renewed fervor, you bury your nose in the curls at the base of his cock, inhaling his scent just before your airway is cut off, and you gag. But you hold yourself there, and his hand rests heavily on the back of your head.
Suddenly, you groan as he clicks the remote for the dildo in your cunt. It vibrates to life, pressing against your stretched walls, making your legs quiver.
“Good girls get rewarded,” he rasps.
You become ravenous, eager to taste his cum, desperate to have this man fill your throat. You want nothing more than to pleasure him, to submit to him, and you let him take what he wants from you. Crater drops the remote, burying both hands in your hair as he lazily thrusts in and out of your mouth, giving you instructions occasionally, which you follow without question. The dull buzz between your legs combined with the pressure in your ass and the throb of Crater’s cock on your tongue brings you to the edge again, but this time, you can’t beg with your mouth full.
He notices.
“Do it. Cum for me. You’ve been so good.”
He clicks the remote again, and you scream around his cock. He presses your head all the way down, groaning as your shrieks vibrate around him. Just as you’re spent, he pulls you off of him, turning the vibration off. He’s almost painfully hard, you can see that. His cock is fully erect and twitching, glistening with your saliva in the dull lighting of the room. You rest your cheek on his thigh, and he strokes your hair.
“Tell me what you want, pretty girl.”
“Wanted… wanted to taste… you,” you pant.
He strokes your hair. “Another time. I promise.”
You whine. “Please fuck me.”
That was apparently the answer he was hoping for, not wanting to expend himself too early if that’s what you really wanted. He’s read you again, but you can’t be bothered by it as he asks you “Where?”
You know he’s making sure this is what you want, so you meet his eyes with as firm a gaze as you can muster. “Please fuck my ass, sir. I need it.”
“How could I refuse such a polite request?”
Crater eases out from underneath you, crawling around behind you and guiding you onto your stomach. He folds a pillow in half and helps you raise your hips to stuff it under them, raising them to his liking before he straddles you, enclosing your legs with his. He pushes the vibrator in your cunt a little deeper, you having squeezed it out slightly during your last orgasm, and then he clicks the low vibration back on. Your muscles tighten around it, and you grip the sheets, arching your back and moaning as he presses it further in and clicks the button again. The vibrations ramp up, and you writhe beneath him. He taps the end of the plug in your ass, and you turn to look over your shoulder at him.
“You gonna let me have your ass, sweetheart?”
It’s one last check. And you’re so grateful for it. But you’re also so impatient.
“Yes. Please fuck my ass, Captain.”
His eyes leave yours to watch as he plays with the plug a little, tapping and moving it in and out of you before he removes it completely. You feel achingly empty and wiggle your ass, hoping it will entice him to fill you faster. You’ve never been taken there before, but right now, you want nothing more.
“I’m going to go slow. Use your colors.”
“Please, Crater.”
The lube bottle clicks open, and a few seconds later you hear the sound of him slicking his cock. Coolness hits your asshole, and you gasp as fingers slip inside of you, working you even more open.
And then you feel it.
Crater uses one hand to spread your asscheeks as he notches the head of his cock at your entrance and slowly begins to ease in. So slowly. Tears leap into your eyes as your muscles stretch to accommodate him. It’s slightly painful, but the pleasure outweighs it as he gently thrusts just the head in and out of you. It feels as though your cunt is stretching too, and the vibrations inside of you suddenly become more intense.
You need him deeper.
“More,” you plead.
Crater sinks a little further into you, moving his hand to the small of your back instead to brace himself. And that’s when it hits you: he’s inside of you completely, not having to hold himself there, in a place no one else has ever been.
The realization drives you wild.
And then he taps the vibrator again. You gasp loudly, fisting the sheets.
“More. Please!”
He sinks deeper, but it’s too much too fast this time. You gasp out a color.
“YELLOW.”
He backs off quickly, but your hand rockets around to keep him inside you.
“Just a little slower. I’m sorry. I thought I was ready,” you choke out.
“Don’t be sorry. Not at all. I’m glad you told me.” His voice is tight. You know he’s holding back. And that’s why you want to keep going. Because you trust him like you’ve trusted no one else.
“Don’t stop. Just go slower. But please don’t stop.”
“You’re sure?” he asks again.
“Yes. Please. I’m green.” You thrust back slightly, just to your breaking point, and he takes your lead. You feel your body relax around him, and this time, you’re positive when you ask him for more. He’s slow and patient, working his way inside you. The stretch is delicious, and Maker, you’ve never been this full. Nothing you do with your fingers or toys after this will be enough. Not with the way his hand is rubbing comforting circles in the small of your back as he destroys you one centimeter at a time.
“More.”
He sinks deeper, and now you’re babbling as he slowly drags himself back out of you before sinking back in. You reach between your legs to press the vibrator against your clit.
“Fuck, Crate. You’re so big. It’s so big and perfect. Fuck. I fucking love the way you feel in my ass.”
“You gonna let me cum in this tight ass, pretty girl?” he grits out. He doesn’t correct you on his title, but you’re pretty sure he’s almost as far gone as you are.
“Gods, yes. I want you to claim me there. Paint my walls where no one else has. I want to feel you leak back out of me.”
His hands grip your hips so hard you’re certain there’ll be a perfect set of fingerprints there. He’s doing everything in his power to go slow, and you can’t wait to turn him loose.
“More, Crate.”
You feel his hips come to rest against your ass as he bottoms out. He’s panting against your shoulder blades, attempting to keep his composure. The realization of how deep he is inside of you has your cunt fluttering around the vibrator, and you almost orgasm from the thought alone. He stretches his legs out, lowering his weight on top of you. One set of his fingers interlaces with yours, and the other hand comes around to cup your throat. He doesn’t squeeze this time, just cradles your jaw, holding your head up as he nuzzles against you.
“You’re so good for me,” he whispers against your skin. “So fucking good.”
You look over your shoulder at him as much as you can, watching a line of sweat trickle down his temple.
“Fuck me, Captain.”
He does. He’s slow at first, but the drag of his cock all the way back out and all the way back into your ass makes you mewl, and before long, you’re pressing back into him. He ramps the vibrator up to its highest setting, and your eyes roll back into your head.
“Harder. Please.”
He obliges, snapping his hips deeper and putting more of his weight into each thrust. Your toes dig into the sheets as your whole body begins to tighten.
“I’m so full. It’s so good. So good. Fuck.” You can’t stop babbling as he pounds into you.
“You’re so fucking tight,” he gasps. “You take my cock so fucking well. Like you were made for it.” He groans loudly as he bottoms out again. “You love this, don’t you? Being stuffed in both holes?”
“Yes,” you sob. “It’s so good.”
“I bet you’d love to have Gregor’s cock in here too. Maybe he takes your sweet little cunt while I pound your ass.” You moan, clenching at the thought. Crater doesn’t stop. “But that still leaves your mouth. Maybe I get Chuckles in here to fuck that smart little mouth while Gregor and I take you. Would you like that, pretty girl? To be ruined by three men at once?”
You whine and spasm around him, and he feels it. “Fuck, you’re such a dirty girl. Who would have known the smart-mouthed mechanic would let me do this to her? Let me ruin her in the backroom of her office. I want you to always remember this when you’re out in that office working. How I took you back here and made you scream my name. How you begged for my cock. Maybe I’ll take you over that desk before I go in the morning so you think about that for the rest of the day while my spend leaks out of you.”
“Crater, I’m gonna cum.”
“Not until I say you are,” he grits out. “Not until I’m ready to.”
You inhale sharply, trying to keep your body from toppling over the edge.
“Don’t you cum yet,” he snarls.
“I’m trying,” you whine. “But I’m so close, Captain. So close.”
“Keep talking.”
Your mouth runs on autopilot, desperate to find the words that will yank him to the edge alongside you so that you can both tumble off together.
“Your cock is so fucking good, Crater. Gods, nothing will ever be enough after this. You fill me up so perfectly. I need it, Crate. I need to feel your hot cum in my ass. I want to feel it leak out of me. Fuck. Please give it to me, Crater. Please cum in my ass.”
His thrusts grow more erratic, and you know you’re about to get what you want.
“G-gonna fill you up,” he growls. “Gonna be the first to claim you here.”
“My ass is yours, Crater.”
“Yeah it fucking is.” The grip on your throat tightens, pulling your head back again, and that last little pinprick of pain has you teetering on the brink. It’s like the first day when he had you tipped in the chair of your office, your toes barely touching the floor. All it will take is the slightest push to send you toppling over the edge.
Just a little further. So close.
“Pleasepleasepleasepleasepleaseplease,” you sob.
“You’re so cute when you beg,” he rasps directly into your ear. And with a loud groan, his hips stutter as he cums in your ass, gasping.
“Now,” he moans.
And your orgasm rips through you. He drops your head, and you scream into the sheets as wave after wave washes over you in the most intense orgasm you’ve ever had. Tears stream from your eyes and your body spasms again and again. You feel like you’re floating somewhere between consciousness and some other plane of existence as you come out of it, barely aware of what day it is or what your name even is anymore.
When the waves of your orgasm finally stop battering your wrung-out body, you collapse limply against the sheets of your bed. They stick to you, but it feels as if you’ve sunk halfway through the mattress somehow. Your mouth feels dry from screaming. Your tongue darts out to moisten your lips, and you’re aware Crater is laying on top of you, panting against your neck, but trying to hold the majority of his weight off of you.
“Get it out,” you mumble.
He’s already slipped from your ass, but he quickly turns off the vibrator and eases it out of your cunt. You feel yourself start to shake uncontrollably. You’re not sure if it’s due to the orgasm, the sudden chill on your sweat-soaked body, or something else. Regardless, Crater lies next to you and pulls you close to him, being careful to keep his sullied hand clear of you. His nose grazes yours as he gently cradles your head.
“Breathe with me, Bolts.”
You do, and the shivering begins to subside after a few cycles. You finally open your eyes and find Crater’s steady gaze watching you, a comfort as always.
“I’m going to go get something to clean you off with. I’m going to be right back. Alright?” You nod, your mind still hazy, and he leans forward and presses a gentle kiss to your forehead before moving off towards your ‘fresher. The sink hisses softly, and a moment later, you feel your legs gently being parted and a warm, damp cloth moving over your body, thighs, and between your legs as Crater carefully cleans you. Once he’s done, a dry towel runs over the same areas, soft and gentle, before he rolls you onto your back, removing the pillow from beneath your hips. You hear the mini-fridge in your outer office open and close, and a straw is placed at your lips. You drink greedily as he strokes your hair, draining the water packet in a few seconds.
“Good girl.” The words are softer now, carrying no heat. “Do you need more?”
You shake your head and open your eyes just in time to see him toss the spent water packet into the rubbish bin. He slides into the bed next to you, pulling the blanket over the two of you before wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close. You snuggle into the crook of his shoulder in a daze, inhaling his smell and draping one of your legs over his thigh. His fingers stroke your cheek, and he presses gentle kisses to your forehead and cheeks. Strong, gentle hands trail over your skin, caressing tenderly in a way that so sharply contrasts with how he touched you just moments before. He searches for sore muscles or tension left untouched but finds none; you’re completely relaxed in his grasp. His fingers graze over the bruises and bite marks he left, pressing gently and watching for your reaction, ensuring you’re not in too much pain. It’s sweet, but not something you’re used to. You know this hardly counts as being pampered by most people’s standards, but you’re not used to the doting tenderness. Even if you do find yourself melting into him more with every passing second, allowing your eyes to drift shut again as you release a satisfied sigh.
“I’m alright, Crate,” you mumble after a few moments, growing shy under his attention.
“I need to be sure,” he says quietly. “That was intense for you.”
You smile. “It was, but it was so good.” Your eyes flutter open, and your heart melts at the way he’s looking down at you. You were worried about how this moment might go, concerned about how your friendship might shift after allowing this to happen.
But you should have known better. Crater is a pillar but also a soft place to land, someone you’d confide in without hesitation. His men fall in line because he’s someone to fly into battle with, someone you know will keep you safe. He’s proud but humble. You know he won’t tell a soul about this night. He doesn’t need to. He knows what he did for you, how you begged for him, and that’s enough. And if you’re honest, you think he got as much out of it as you did, enjoying watching your walls come down and you relaxing with him, enjoying the process of helping you.
“Just didn’t realize this was an all-inclusive sort of encounter,” you joke. “You’re starting to make me feel like royalty with all the attention.”
His expression grows serious as he looks down at you, pushing some of your hair out of your face. “You shouldn’t be accepting any other kind of encounters, Bolts. Do I need to chat with Gregor when he gets back?”
“Nah. He’s fine for what he is. And he does take care of me. It’s just… different.”
He grunts noncommittally, pulling you closer. You feel his thumb graze your spine.
“You jealous?” you ask, tongue poking out between your teeth teasingly.
“Not at all. We’re different people giving you different things.”
“That makes it sound like you don’t intend for this to be a one-time thing, Crate.”
“That is entirely up to you.” His thumb caresses your lower lip, and you kiss it.
You pretend to consider it for a moment, as if this night won’t have you craving his touch seconds after he’s gone. “Well, I can’t be getting cranky with your men again, now can I?” you murmur, snuggling deeper into the crook of his shoulder.
The corner of his mouth twitches into a smirk. “Definitely can’t have that. And I’m more than happy to do my part.”
“More than happy?”
“Yeah, Bolts. I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t think I’d enjoy myself too.”
“You do this with a lot of people?”
“Nope. Only ones I trust. And that trust me.”
You twist one end of your hair nervously, the mention of trust bringing a question charging to the forefront of your mind. He can tell, taking your fingers and carefully intertwining them in his own.
“What is it? You having second thoughts?”
“No, not at all. This was great. It’s just… have you heard if Gregor’s talking about him and I? I didn’t think he would, but what Strike said a few weeks back stuck with me. I don’t want to be the Battalion Babe of the week.”
He nods, pulling your knuckles to his lips. “I can assure you that I haven’t heard anything and I don’t think Gregor’s like that. I think Strike was angry and lashing out. I know several of the men did see you leave 79s with Gregor, so the conclusion wasn’t too far-fetched. But Gregor’s not feeding the rumor mill.”
You sigh. “Dammit.”
“For what it’s worth, you haven’t been a topic of conversation within my earshot. I had a chat with Chuckles too and asked him to make sure it wasn’t happening when I’m not around. He said he would, and I trust him. As much of a pain as he is at times, he’s a good man. I trust him.”
You nod appreciatively, melting slightly at the thought of Chuckles doing that for you, but the mention of the mohawked pilot brings another question to the front of your mind. “Were you serious about you and Gregor and Chuckles?”
He shrugs. “It was something I said in the moment, but not a thing I’d approach them about without your express consent. No one needs to know about this if you don’t want them to. And I would only bring in people you and I trust explicitly. Gregor and Chuckles are two of those people. But again, it was said in the moment and doesn’t have to be a serious thing ever.”
Your mind is whirling at the thought of having three of them at once. You can’t lie, it does pique your interest. You smirk up at him. “I’ll let you know.”
He huffs a laugh. His eyes are gentle as he leans down, pressing his lips to your forehead. “Thank you for trusting me to do all that for you.”
You snuggle further into him, absently tracing his tattoos with your fingertips. “Thank you for doing it for me in the first place. I’d have never asked.”
A quiet laugh rumbles through his chest. “I know. You’re too stubborn. That’s why I offered.”
“Glad you did.”
“Me too.”
His steady heartbeat lulls you to sleep only a few minutes later.
—
When you wake in the morning, Crater’s still there, but he’s in the process of getting dressed. He’s snapping his vambraces in place as you stir, sitting up and stretching. You ache deliciously in all of the right places, but seeing him standing there reawakens your hunger. He smiles at you as you sit up in bed.
“Morning. Figured I should get out of here before the droids start powering on. They’re not known for gossip, but better safe than sorry.”
“I suppose you’re right.” You can’t keep the disappointment out of your voice, and even if you had, you’re confident he still would have picked up on your cues. He pauses.
“What’s wrong?”
You wonder if you’re overstepping, but after the night you just had, you figure it doesn’t hurt to ask. You get out of your bed, opening the door to your office. Despite you being completely naked, covered in his marks, Crater’s eyes are firmly locked on yours. You lean against the doorframe, glancing over at your desk.
“You mentioned a parting gift last night that involved my desk. That offer still on the table?”
He huffs a laugh, his hands falling to your waist and gently guiding you out into the office. The cool edge of the desk presses against the front of your thighs as he leans down to speak directly into your ear.
“Elbows on the desk for me, pretty girl. And try to be a little quieter this time.”
You shudder as he nudges your feet apart, placing his codpiece on the desk next to you.
blitz (noun): a sudden, energetic, and concerted effort, typically on a specific task.
Mechanic Bolts (f!Reader) navigates her relationship with a commando she hates and her friends of the 28th Combat Wing.
Rating: E, 18+ ABSOLUTELY NO MINORS ALLOWED
Warnings: language, fingering, PiV sex, voyeurism, oral sex, cum eating, multiple partners (no cl*necest), anal sex, dom/sub dynamics, rough sex, impact play, rough sex, sex toy use, orgasm denial, spitting, double penetration... (this series is essentially just pure filth)
Pairings: Gregor x f!Reader, OC Crater x f!Reader, OC Chuckles x f!Reader
A/N: ALRIGHT. HERE IT IS. THE FINAL PART THAT YOU'VE ALL BEEN WAITING FOR (I think). I may go back and rewrite the first part to give Gregor a bit more attention, but HERE IT IS. HEED THE WARNINGS. As always, thank you so much to the outstanding @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading for me!
Pairings: OC Crater x f!Reader, OC Chuckles x f!Reader, Gregor x f!Reader
Fic Rating: E (18+ MINORS SKEEDADDLE)
Warnings: multiple partners (no cl*necest), dom/sub dynamics, spanking, fingering, rough sex, orgasm denial, anal play, oral sex, PiV sex, marking, anal sex, sex toy use, cum eating, spitting, double penetration, language, confession of feelings, Gregor continuing to get under Bolt's skin
Word Count: 14.5k words
You saunter forward, swaying your hips far more than necessary as you slowly walk back to your office door. You can hear Gregor, Crater, and Chuckles walking behind you, speaking in muted voices to one another. You don’t look backwards, but just the fact that the three of them are following you to your bedroom with the intention of pulling you apart one fiber at a time sends heat shooting through your body.
You’re about ten yards from your door when warm hands suddenly grab you from behind, squeezing your breasts and ass as Gregor’s throaty chuckle rumbles in your ear. He pulls you closer to him, and you stumble, but he keeps you upright, sucking a mark on your neck.
“Didn’t think I’d miss this as much as I did, but Maker, I thought about your pussy nearly every night.”
“Just my pussy?”
“Alright, maybe your ass too.”
You roll your eyes at him and huff a laugh, but let him guide you towards the door panel. His fingers are playing with the lace of your bra as you struggle to get the door to your office unlocked.
“Who knew this was what you looked like with your clothes off?” he rasps, and you can feel his eyes roving over you. You stick your ass out slightly, wiggling it enticingly, and that earns you a sharp slap across your backside from him. You brace yourself against the door, biting your lip to stifle a moan as he rubs and squeezes the reddening skin.
“I thought you two had already fucked,” Chuckles notes, his eyes locked on the mark Gregor’s hand left on your backside.
“Oh, we did. But you see, Bolts here is impatient,” Gregor teases, twisting the lace of your panties around one finger. “Never made it to a proper bed. First few times, we barely made it to that alley near 79s. Bolts damn near bruised her knees trying to suck my cock in there once. And then, it was just a matter of pulling her dress up enough to fuck her against the wall there with one hand clamped over her mouth. She’s so loud.”
“You’re one to talk,” you mutter, and he spanks you again.
“Closest we got to a bedroom was a taxi ride back to her place,” Gregor continues, as if you’re not quivering under his palm that’s rubbing your asscheek, “but Bolts here fucked me in the cab before we even got there. Couldn’t even wait, just climbed into my lap and pulled her panties to the side. She stumbled out with my seed still dribbling down her legs when we got to her place, filthy thing. Told me to just fuck off back to the barracks, so I did. Fairly certain we traumatized the droid driving.” He giggles, and somehow, you finally manage to get the door open.
Gregor pushes you inside, coaxing you towards the desk. You try to bend over it, figuring you know what he wants, but he easily flips you onto your back and leans over you, his arms caging you in. “Lay back, love.”
You tremble, but obey as he pulls your office chair to the edge of the desk. Reaching down, he twists his fingers in your panties again, yanking them roughly down your legs. You’re positive you hear at least a few seams tear, but they’re more intact than you thought they’d be as he tosses them on the floor. He sits, scooping under your ass and yanking your hips towards him until you can feel his hot breath on your glistening folds.
He sits down in your chair and glances up at you from between your parted knees, smirking at you. You can’t help but think that he looks as though he’s about to gorge himself on a five-course meal, his tongue grazing his lower lip as he takes you in, his hands resting on the inside of your knees with just enough force to keep them apart. You quiver and clench, and the commando smirks triumphantly at your reaction to him.
“She doesn’t get to cum. Not for a while,” Crater warns, tossing your jumpsuit and boots aside. Chuckles is the last one in, shutting and locking the door behind him.
“Been dying to taste you, love. Want to see how these lips feel on my tongue,” Gregor rasps, his fingers brushing against your clit. Your hips attempt to jump off the table at the contact, but he grabs you, pinning them in place. You whine.
“Now, none of that,” he chides before leaning down and biting the inside of your thigh, sucking a bruise there. You yelp and try to pull away instinctively, but he’s got you pinned. All you can do is wriggle helplessly. Your eyes dart to Crater, who’s leaning against the doorway watching. There’s no mercy in his gaze. Chuckles’s eyes are wide, his lips parted as he watches Gregor nip you again.
“FUCK!” you cry out.
“Language,” Gregor scolds, slapping the inside of your thigh, and you wince again. “Such a filthy mouth all of the time.”
“She’s not known for her manners,” Crater agrees.
Gregor hums, and without further commentary, plunges his tongue into your pussy. You wriggle, but he holds you down, eating you out like a man that’s been starved, groaning against your clit.
“Gods, Gregor. FUCK,” you moan, your back arching off of the desk. Your head dangles over the opposite side, and when you lift it, Gregor’s eyes are watching you intently as he sucks your clit. He’s brutal and rough but every part of your body is craving more, but you refuse to give him the satisfaction of admitting it. You try to keep your face from convulsing in pleasure, but you fail as he plunges his tongue back into you, wriggling the muscle as his nose brushes your clit and causes you to gasp airily.
“You fucking asshole,” you whine, trying to keep your composure. He bites the inside of your other thigh, leaving yet another bruise and you scream.
Crater comes around to the other side of the desk, standing over where your head is dangling over the side of the desk. “If you’d like to run your mouth, I can find a different use for it, pretty girl.” Just then, Gregor bites you once more, and you shout again.
“FUCK!”
Crater leans down to speak directly into your ear.
“Color?”
“G-green,” you stutter out.
“Good girl.” He straightens, rolling down his pants and letting his cock spring free. Without any preamble, he grips your throat and taps his cock against your chin once, twice, before he feeds it into your mouth. Reaching forward, he grabs one of your hands and places it on his thigh, a silent reminder to tap out if it all becomes too much.
But you’re just getting started.
Gregor flicks your clit with his tongue, and you groan around Crater’s cock. He thrusts shallowly past your lips, pressing deeper into your throat with each pass until you’re starting to gag. But he knows to keep going; you’ll tap if you need it. He thrusts lazily into your mouth, and your jaw stretches around him. You know Chuckles is watching you, and something about that makes you twitch and shudder even more. You can’t look at him with the way Crater’s got you pinned, but you can feel Chuck’s eyes on you, and it makes you need him more. The grip on your throat tightens, and Crater keeps going, finally holding himself in the back of your throat.
“Swallow,” he grits out. You do, and he groans. “There’s a good girl.” Reaching forward, he slides his hand underneath you and unclasps your bra, pulling it off of you. He examines the charm as he backs out of your mouth slightly, just leaving the head of his cock inside your lips. You run your tongue over the head, and he grunts. “This is pretty. See, you can follow directions.” He tosses the bra and pulls himself out of your mouth with a pop. Gregor stills, raising his slicked chin up and looking at Crater. You turn and finally are able to look at Chuckles. His eyes are blown wide with lust, dark as night as he watches you wipe some of the saliva from where it’s dribbled over your cheeks.
“I think that’s enough out here,” Crater comments. “Gregor, Chuckles, go get things set up in the back room. Put the mattress on the floor with the bedrolls. I’m going to stretch out her ass and then we’ll get started.”
You shiver at the way he talks about you. Gregor wipes his chin on the back of his hand, grinning down at you before he and Chuckles retreat to the back room where your apartment is. Crater turns back to you, gently taking your hands and pulling you to a sitting position on the edge of the desk. He wipes more saliva from your chin tenderly, as if it wasn’t his cock that smeared it there a few moments before. You manage to grin cheekily at him, but he grips your chin between his fingers.
“I need you to be serious for a moment,” he says quietly, his eyes searching yours. “I’ve spoken with them about the rules, about cleanliness and your boundaries, but I want to make sure you understand that this is going to be intense. You’re going to get exactly what you asked for, but if I see you dropping and you not tapping out, I’m going to call it. Do you understand?”
You giggle, but the grip on your chin tightens. Crater whispers your name, your real name, and that sobers you.
“People sometimes misjudge their desires in these scenarios. I trust both of them to not push you, but I need to know you won’t push yourself beyond your limits, Bolts. If you can’t even handle reassuring me right now, then this can’t happen.”
You notice Chuckles watching the two of you from the doorway, and when you catch his eye, he looks away. Your stomach flutters again, but you obediently meet Crater’s gaze. You appreciate what he’s doing here. And you’d be lying if you said you weren’t apprehensive, but your eagerness and want outweigh that by a long shot. You do trust these men, and you want them, but to you, above all, being able to walk away with your relationships intact is what is most important to you. These men have to trust you to do your job, to keep their fighters and transports working, and by extension, their lives safe. If you betray their trust, even in this setting, you know that puts that in peril, and that’s not something you’re willing to do.
“I understand, Crater. If I feel that I’m being pushed too hard, I’ll tap out. And I trust you to do the same if you see me slipping. You’ve got more experience here, and I trust you to look out for me.” You dip your chin, pressing a kiss to the pad of his thumb.
Crater watches you for another moment before pressing a kiss to your forehead. It’s tender, and then you feel him grip your hair, signaling the transition to you. You’re ready for it.
“Over the desk, pretty girl. Need to get you ready.”
You quiver with anticipation as you do as you’re told, wiggling your ass playfully at Crater. You hear the rustle of fabric, and he tosses his shirt on the desk next to you before he digs through the same drawer for the lube he used earlier in the day. He taps the plug in your ass, moving it in and out of you slightly. Your cunt was already sopping thanks to Gregor’s tongue, but now, you feel yourself dribbling down your thighs, the cool air hitting the trails across your skin.
“Messy little thing,” Crater comments as he removes the plug, setting it on the desk next to you. You hear the click of the lube bottle, and suddenly, fingers are prodding at your asshole, slowly easing into you. The past few weeks with Crater have made it easier for you to take him, and soon, he’s adding a third finger, working you open. Your fingernails dig into the wood of the desk, and you watch his shadow on the wall. He straightens, his head dipping down, and you know he has to be looking at how you’re stretched around him. Your cunt clenches around nothing. His fingers slide from you, and the bottle clicks again.
“Color?”
“Green.”
He hums in acknowledgement, and you hear the sound of him slicking his cock behind you. You keep your eyes forward, legs trembling in anticipation. You’re wound so tightly, you jump slightly when one of his hands spreads your ass, and you feel the head of his cock notch at your entrance, slowly easing in. Your back arches and you moan as he carefully thrusts into you, hands finally slipping around to grip your hips as he stretches your insides to accommodate him. He’s careful, letting you thrust back into him when you’re ready for more, and it only takes a few minutes for him to fully sheathe himself in your ass. You’re accustomed to the feel of him now, but you’ll never get used to it. It’s foreign and filthy and you’re desperate for more as he slowly drags himself out of you before sliding home once more.
“You’re doing so well,” he praises, voice taut. “You’re going to be so good for us tonight, aren’t you?”
“Yes,” you gasp out. “So good. Give you everything.”
Crater’s thrusts are faster now, consistently reaching as deep as he can inside of you with ease. His fingers dig into your hips, and you feel your body jostle with every powerful snap of his hips. Every nerve is screaming for release, and you feel the edge of the desk digging into the front of your thighs. You wonder if Chuckles is watching, knowing he’s going to get to have you as well. The thought makes you clench around Crater, and he spanks you in warning, leaving you keening with the first red handprint of the evening from him. You quiver as he leans over you.
“Don’t get greedy,” he snarls. “You’ll get plenty of cum tonight, but not before I’m ready.” He pulls out of you abruptly, and you yelp at the sudden emptiness. With his clean hand, he pulls you off the desk roughly by your arm, and quickly guides you to your room.
The lamp is on in the corner, casting the room in a dim glow. Your mattress and pillows have been moved to the floor, surrounded by the two bedrolls that Crater and Gregor brought with them. Gregor and Chuckles are in the corner, both stripped of their shirts and boots, talking quietly to one another. The conversation ends when Crater drags you inside, and they watch you with a hunger that makes your empty cunt flutter.
“On your knees,” Crater growls in your ear, shoving you towards the mattress. You fall forward on your hands and knees, panting and glaring at Crater as he turns to address Chuckles and Gregor. “She’s ready. I’m going to clean myself off. Don’t start without me and don’t let her touch herself.” He disappears into the fresher without even looking at you again.
Gregor whispers something else to Chuckles you can’t hear, and the pilot breaks out into a wicked grin. They stride over to you, circling you as you kneel on the mattress. You raise an eyebrow at Gregor, and he winks at you cheekily.
“Where do you think you’ll take her first?” Chuckles asks.
“Oh, I’ve been dreaming about that tight little cunt for weeks,” Gregor snickers. “Think I’ll have a go there first. But I really want to sample the road less traveled.”
Your face flushes with heat as Chuckles comes to a stop behind you. “If it’s tighter than her pussy, I won’t last long.”
“Well, the plan is to fill her. Think we can all manage to finish in all three holes?”
You inhale sharply at the thought.
“Oh, she likes that,” Gregor titters, squatting down next to you, slipping a finger under your chin to force you to meet his eyes. “That what you want, love? I’d bet we could even do more. Fill your belly, your pussy, and your ass. Have you dripping with us.”
You can feel your pulse between your legs, throbbing with every heartbeat. Chuckles comes around to your side, and you see he has his pants rolled down enough to pull his cock out, which he’s stroking languidly. You know it’s already been inside of you, but your mouth waters at the sight. His thumb smears the droplet of precum that shines on the head, and Maker help you, you salivate. Chuckles’s teeth gleam as he grins down at you.
“Look how desperate she is. You want this, don’t you?”
You meet his gaze, your mouth suddenly bone dry and your tongue heavy. “Yes,” you whisper.
The sink shuts off in your ‘fresher and Crater emerges, toweling his hands off. You can see the head of his cock tucked into the waistband of his pants, and he smirks as he notices you staring. He strips off his pants, and the other two follow his lead, encircling you once they’re fully bare. Your mouth falls open as you take each of them in.
Gregor’s toned and lithe like Crater, but he has massive burn scars covering a good portion of his torso and arms. You knew he’d been blown up on Abafar, but you’d never realized just how lucky he was. But what your eyes are most drawn to are his thighs. You’ve ridden them before of course, but somehow they look even thicker without his pants covering them. He grins down at you.
Chuckles is a little more stocky in build than his brothers. His shoulders are massive, but his tummy is softer, trailing down to thick legs and calves. His torso is also littered with scars, but they seem less jagged and more surgical in nature. You figure that’s where the medics operated on him after his accident, trying to piece him back together. When he turns, you catch sight of his tattoo. He’d told you before that he’d gotten the Headhunter’s flight computer PCB layout tattooed, and you’d always imagined it as a silly thing, but it’s not strictly a schematic. The lines that represent the recognizable traces weave down the left side of his back, but there’s artistry that makes it beautiful. Someone spent time on it, and you briefly wonder which brother crafted it for him. Whereas the others seem confident at being laid bare to you, there’s some hesitance in Chuckles’s eyes, as if he’s afraid of what your opinion of him will be. You smile softly at him, and his shoulders drop slightly. You note a splotchy black mark on his right ass cheek, and you raise an eyebrow.
“That’s a weird birthmark.”
He shrugs, apparently not feeling the need to elaborate further. You make a mental note to press the issue later.
“Before we begin, remember the rules,” Crater states, bringing you out of your pondering about Chuckles’s body. You feel a buzz of anticipation permeate the air between the four of you, understanding that Crater’s speech is coming just before everything becomes intense and debauched. You appreciate him drawing this imaginary line in the sand for you, but you’re also ready to leap over it. You shift as he turns to address his brothers. “You two, what are your hard no’s?” Gregor has a list ready. Of course he does. Chuckles has to think a bit more, but comes up with some.
And then Crater turns to you. You recite your list. Crater nods.
“Color definitions?”
You rattle those off too.
“And nonverbal?”
“Three taps.” You reach out, tapping against Chuckles and Gregor’s thighs in demonstration. Chuck shudders at your touch. Gregor looks as though he’s going to devour you again.
Crater steps forward. “Go to work then, pretty girl. Get us ready.” His hand comes to rest on the top of your head pushing you towards his cock. You can still smell the soap he just used to vigorously clean himself as you take the head of him between your lips, suckling gently. Gregor guides your left hand to his shaft, and you let him wrap your fingers around him, gripping tightly as he moves your hand in time with his thrusts. You reach with your other hand for Chuckles, and he takes your invitation, quickly moving to fill your other palm.
Crater’s stare is blazing, setting your skin alight as he thrusts into your mouth. After a few moments, he grips your hair, slowing your bobbing along his length. “Don’t be rude. You can’t neglect your guests, pretty girl.”
You grin, saliva coating your chin again, and you turn to Chuckles, maintaining eye contact as you run your tongue from his base to his tip before taking him to the back of your throat and swallowing. His hands immediately fly to your hair as his head tips back and he moans. You watch his Adam’s apple bob in his throat and his muscles strain, and you hum. His hips jolt, and you gag. He tries to back out, but you push forward until you gag again, opening your throat and lips as you choke yourself on him. He follows your lead, and you feel him throb against your tongue.
And then you turn to Gregor, pumping Crater and Chuckles’s wet cocks as you kiss the head of the commando’s hardened member. He’s in no mood to be teased, gripping your hair roughly. You giggle, but he yanks, and the pain draws a gasp from you, tears leaping to your eyes. He taps his cock against your lips, and when you stick your tongue out to chase it, he smears saliva all over your chin and cheeks with it.
“Such a sloppy mess,” he rasps. And then he thrusts into your mouth, burying your nose in the curls that halo his base and holding you there. When he finally relents, he pulls you off of him, and you gasp, suddenly able to breathe again. A line of spit connects your lips to his cock, and he chuckles darkly.
“Filthy girl.”
You alternate between the three of them, letting them take what they want from you as their cocks grow progressively harder. Sweat and saliva dribbles down your chin, but you can’t be bothered to care, more concerned with relaxing your throat and ignoring the ache in your jaw.
Finally, Gregor grants you a reprieve, pushing you onto your back on the mattress.
“Missed this pussy,” he rasps, kneeling between your legs. “Going to fill you here first I think.” He taps the head of his cock against your clit before rubbing it through your slick folds and giggling. “You’re still soaked, love. Who knew you loved sucking cock so much?” You roll your eyes, but he ignores you, adjusting you to his liking before tipping forward on one hand and guiding himself into you with the other. It only takes a few shallow thrusts for him to completely bury himself to the hilt in you, and you moan. You’ll never admit it, but you’ve missed the feel of him inside of you.
“Seems Chuckles prepared you to take me, but I’m going to be the first to paint your walls,” he grunts, slowly beginning to drag himself in and out of you. You can’t keep your eyes on him for long though as Crater kneels near your shoulder, pushing your head down to the mattress by your throat. You clench around Gregor as Crater straddles your face.
The captain of the 28th Wing knows you love it when he fucks your mouth like this, and it seems at least for tonight, he’s not going to make you beg for it. You love him using your tongue and lips, love seeing his abdomen flex as he fucks you without abandon. Something about knowing this is what your pussy sees when he fucks you drives you wild, and he tips his weight forward, sliding his hand behind your head, and he lets himself get lost in you, taking what he wants from your warm, wet tongue and mouth.
Your eyes dart over to where Chuckles is watching, and you can see he’s absolutely wrecked. He scoots closer and Crater moves forward to give him more room. Chuckles’s mohawk dips out of sight, and you suddenly feel a warm mouth on your breast, sucking gently on your nipple before a tongue flicks it. Your back arches, and a warm, calloused hand clasps your other breast and squeezes. Chuckles gently bites at your tender flesh, leaving the first of the marks he’d promised.
You want more.
Gregor moans as you clench around him, and you feel a thumb press against your clit. Your muscles begin to tighten as Gregor nudges you towards the edge, and he giggles when he feels you squeeze him. “Think she’s close, Crate. Has she earned it yet?”
Crater is sweating as he thrusts into your mouth, grunting with every jerk of his hips. Spit is sliding down your cheeks as you look up at him with pleading eyes. He grips the hair on the top of your head, watching you.
“You think you’ve earned it after the stunt you pulled with Chuckles?”
You try to beg and plead, but it comes out garbled around his cock.
“What was that, pretty girl?”
Your eyes are watering, and you try again. You know it’s useless, but your cunt begins to tighten from Gregor’s relentless thrusts and circles on your clit. Gregor pulls his hand away when he feels it, and you whine around Crater’s cock, tears pooling in the corner of your eyes as you dangle on the edge. Chuckles seems to almost redouble his effort on your breasts, and you feel the vibration of him moaning against your skin.
“I think we all get to cum first, and then she can have it,” Crater decides, and you sob, which only makes him pitch his hips deeper into your throat. You sputter.
“Fair enough,” Gregor moans. “I’m close as it is. This sweet little pussy is just as soft and warm as I remember.”
You whine, and Crater lightly taps your cheek.
“I did tell you to behave. Now, make me cum down your throat, and you’ll be one step closer to getting what you want.”
You increase your efforts on his cock, driving it to the back of your throat and swallowing in the way you know Crater likes. He watches you with parted lips as you bob your head frantically. He eventually lays more of his weight onto your face, thrusting into you harder until you feel his balls begin to tighten against your chin.
“Almost there, pretty girl. Be good and take it all, yeah?”
You gurgle around him in acknowledgement, and that’s all it takes. His hips stutter as he fills your throat. He’s salty and warm and familiar, and you wait for him to get off of you, holding his cum in your mouth. He sees what you’re doing.
“Go ahead and show them then.” He almost sounds proud.
You meet Gregor’s eyes and open your mouth, showing him the warm, white coating on your tongue.
Gregor inhales sharply and cums hard. You feel warmth fill your insides, and you squeeze as he pulses again.
“Fuck, love. S-so good. So fucking hot like that.” It’s the first time you’ve heard him stammer, and you can’t help but grin as he slips from you.
“Swallow,” Crater pants in your ear. You obey, opening your mouth and showing him your tongue as proof of your compliance.
“Good girl.”
Chuckles grunts next to you, scooting closer as he jerks his cock wildly. You prop yourself up on your elbows and meet his gaze as he empties himself across your breasts.
“F-fuck, Bolts.”
You keep your gaze locked on his as you swipe your finger through his spend, bringing it to your mouth and sucking. His lips fall open, and he repeats the motion, sliding his thumb through the sticky white smear and offering it to you. You take it, moaning around his digit. He’s different from Crater, slightly sweeter somehow.
You want more of him.
Rolling over, you gently take his spent cock in your mouth, cleaning it with your tongue. It leaps in response almost immediately, twitching as Chuckles groans.
“M-maker. So good. Gentle. Good. Oh, fuck.”
He’s hard again in a matter of minutes. You’d suck him dry if he’d let you, but he has other plans, rolling you onto your knees.
“Want your ass,” he rasps.
You drop onto your elbows, glancing over your shoulder as he kneels behind you. You feel some of Gregor’s spend leak out of you, warmth dribbling out of your cunt and down the inside of your thighs. Crater tosses Chuckles the bottle of lube, and you hear the top click open.
“Get her nice and slick,” Crater says softly. You appreciate his direction, although you weren’t particularly concerned. Fingers press into you, coating your asshole, and you bury your head in the crook of your elbow, moaning as Chuckles works you back open.
“Fuck, she’s so tight. Definitely won’t last long fucking her here.”
You feel the mattress dip, and you glance up to see Gregor kneeling next to you. “I’m taking you there next. Best get me ready.”
“Already?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.
“Is that a complaint?” he rasps.
“Just always thought you were more of a one and done,” you snipe.
He grins, but grips your hair tightly. “You’d know different if you weren’t in such a rush all the time.” You glower as he taps his cock against your cheek, but then you feel Chuckles press into your ass, carefully thrusting in and out, and your mouth falls open. Gregor takes advantage, pressing past your tongue. You glare at him, but can only keep your gaze heated for another second as Chuckles slowly presses into you again. Your eyes roll back into your head, but Gregor keeps your head suspended, driving the head of his cock into your cheek and slapping you lightly.
“That’s it. Take it all, love.”
Crater is watching you from the corner, sitting on one of your storage containers as he watches his brothers have you. He’s speaking quietly to Chuckles, but you can’t hear it over the roar of blood in your ears. You think he might be coaching him to let you set the pace, so you eventually thrust back against him slightly, and he follows your lead until he’s buried completely in your ass, loosing a string of curses and praises that all sound muted to you. He begins thrusting in long, gradual strokes, and you can feel his head catching at your entrance every time before he slides back in and his hips meet your ass again.
“Such a good girl,” Gregor praises, petting your hair as he presses against the back of your throat. “So pretty with two cocks in you. You love this don’t you? Being used like this?” You moan, and Gregor pulls you off of him, grinning as he stares down at you panting.
“Want to cum in your ass next. Can’t let you get me off too quickly.”
Your head drops back down to the mattress, and you get lost in the feeling of Chuckles fucking your ass. He increases his pace, leaning further over you until he’s practically mounted you, ramming his hips against you with every thrust.
“Maker, you’re so fucking tight,” he grunts in your ear. “I’ll never get enough of this ass, Bolts. I’m going to fuck you as many times as I can tonight. Until you can’t take a step tomorrow without thinking of my cock buried inside of you. Tell me who’s in your ass right now, sweetheart.”
“Y-you are, Chuckles,” you stutter out.
“That’s right.” You feel him pulse as you stroke his ego. “Say my name again.”
“Ch-Chuckles.”
“Yeah. You’re mine.”
He’s forward and possessive, and you love it. He’s draped over you, and you can feel his warmth as his tongue traces along your shoulder before he digs his teeth in. You’ve never cum from having only your ass filled, but you’re close right now, teetering on the edge. They’ve wound you up perfectly, tightening the coil, and you worry it might stay like that forever until Chuckles sits up, pulling you against his chest by your arms. He’s fucking into your ass roughly, and you’re sobbing and pleading for release. You’re not sure what you’re saying or if it’s even coherent, but Gregor is staring at you with a smirk that makes you want to sob.
“She’s so pretty when she begs,” Gregor notes. “So polite too. Suddenly knows the word ‘please’.”
Crater kneels next to you, and you lock eyes with him, desperately trying to form an understandable sentence. “P-p-please, sir. Please let me cum.” You sound pathetic, but you don’t care. Your body is screaming for release, and there’s not a single thing you wouldn’t do to get it. Crater watches you for another few seconds before he slips his fingers between your legs, rubbing your clit with just the perfect amount of pressure.
“Cum for us pretty girl,” he whispers in your ear, breath hot against your skin. “And don’t forget to say ‘thank you’.”
Fireworks explode in your vision and you scream as you topple over the edge. You must clench around Chuckles, because his hips stutter, and he buries himself in your ass, falling forward as he fills you with spurt after spurt of his cum. You’re vaguely aware of him kissing your shoulder right next to the bruise he left as he came, and you whine as he slips from you.
Hair is pushed out of your face, and hot breath brushes your cheek.
“Color?” Crater asks quietly.
“Green,” you pant. “And thank you, sir.”
He huffs a laugh.
You shiver as Chuckles’s warmth vanishes, but it’s mere seconds before Gregor takes his place, slotting your thighs between his, parting your asscheeks, and sinking into you with a groan as he drives Chuckles’s spend back out of you.
You lose track of time as they take you again and again. You’re never completely empty, one of them slipping into your mouth as another pants between your legs, pushing the cum of the previous participant out of your swollen cunt or asshole. Sometimes they finish, sometimes they don’t, moving on to sample another part of you. Your skin is slick, although at this point, you can no longer differentiate with what.
Crater is the same as he always is, carefully monitoring you and commanding as he dictates your pleasure. He’s the one that you have to plead with when your body tightens with an impending orgasm, and he’s the one that always grants your release, either taking it himself or nodding at his brothers to push you over the edge. He grips your throat, whispering praise in your ear as he fucks you, and somehow, it feels different. He’s focused on you, of course, but he’s also taking what he needs, allowing himself to cum whenever he needs to, knowing another cock will take his place. He paints you inside and out, allowing you to clean his cock and his fingers, cleanliness permitting.
You can’t get enough.
The first time he fucks your ass in front of his brothers, Crater’s the most possessive you’ve seen him, as if he’s making a point. He adjusts you in the angle he’s found that makes you shatter in the last few weeks, fingers digging into your hips as he drives into you roughly. Gregor and Chuckles kneel in front of you, stroking their cocks as you alternate between the two of them, choking yourself on them with every one of Crater’s brutal thrusts, barely able to breathe between them pressing into your throat and the screams Crater rips from your lungs.
“Tell them, pretty girl. Tell them who took you here first.”
He buries his fingers in your hair, pulling until tears trickle from the corner of your eyes. Your head is pulled upwards, forcing you to look at his brothers. You must be a sight, spit dribbling down your chin, sweaty with tears streaming down your cheeks.
“C-Crater.”
“Tell them how you begged for it.”
Chuckles strokes his cock faster as he stares down at you. Gregor smirks wickedly.
“That true, love?” the commando prompts. “Did you beg for the captain to fuck your ass first?”
“Ye-yes,” you stutter out. “Crater fucked my ass first. I-I wanted it. I needed it. W-wanted to feel his cock in my ass. Wanted h-him to claim me.”
“Tell them who this ass belonged to first.”
“Crater. My ass belonged to C-Crater f-f-first.”
“Good girl,” the captain praises as he guides your mouth back to Gregor’s cock before redoubling his efforts. You cum screaming around Gregor, and he empties down your throat with a grunt.
When he’s not fucking you, Crater’s intently watching you and his brothers, making sure that anyone that takes your ass cleans themself off before taking you again, making sure you’re present and eager at all times. You appreciate his careful gaze, but you know you’re far from being ready to stop anything.
Gregor on the other hand is frantic and unrefined, clearly working through whatever the last few months inflicted upon him. He’s rough, gripping you tightly as he uses you, grunting and swearing under his breath. Your cunt is clearly his favorite, and he drives into you with echoing slapping sounds, driving spend back out of you with every thrust. He wants you on your hands and knees or prone most times, wants to mount you and manipulate your body how he needs it, and in spite of the heated words you toss back at him, you’re more than malleable in his grasp. Despite your conflicted relationship, Gregor knows how to make you scream, and he takes advantage of that at every turn until your throat feels raw.
The commando wants your attention at all times, relishing in how you come undone with him inside you. At one point, he’s got you nearly folded in half on your back, but your gaze drifts to where Chuckles and Crater are talking in hushed voices in the corner. The two of them are speaking too quietly for you to hear, their gazes locked on you as Gregor fucks you. You strain to catch what they’re saying before a strong hand grabs your jaw, squeezing firmly enough to part your lips, turning your head back to meet Gregor’s gaze.
“Now love, I’m the one fucking you, so I expect your undivided attention. Understood?”
You’re defiant at first, rolling your eyes until he delivers a searing slap to your clit. You arch your back, yelping as he grips your jaw again.
“I said, understood?”
“Yes sir,” you whine.
He laughs, but it’s darker than the trademark hoarse giggle you’ve come to associate with him. “I think I like it when you call me ‘sir’.”
His fingers dig in to the flesh of your hips, leaving fresh bruises alongside Crater’s fading ones, but more than anything, he loves to spank you while he fucks you. Both of your asscheeks are red and stinging each time he finishes, and you’d be lying if you said you didn’t egg him on just a little. Crater watches carefully, seeming to understand what’s going on and frequently checking in on you, cradling your face in his hands as Gregor takes you from behind. You reassure him every time before begging for him to slip his cock into your mouth. He always obliges, praising you for asking so sweetly.
You crave them. And they keep you full.
And then there’s Chuckles.
Crater is molten and Gregor’s scalding, but Chuckles is a warmth that envelops you, blooming within you as you press parted lips against his skin, panting his name like a prayer as he takes you. It’s unexpected and yet familiar in ways you’ll never be able to articulate and are pretty sure you’ll never tire of.
He’s reverential yet impatient, constantly hovering for the next opportunity to slip inside of you, to claim you in whatever way he can. When he slides his cock between your lips, he wants you to go slowly, bobbing your head and hollowing your cheeks while he stares at you, watching the way your jaw and lips stretch to accommodate him. He strokes your hair, muttering praises, guiding your hand to touch his body. He savors you as if every second is the last one he’ll spend with you, as though you aren’t counting the seconds until the next time he’s inside of you. He’s greedy, laying atop you and grinding into you for as long as he can hold out before he groans and empties into you again, cradling the back of your head. He’s frantic like his brothers, but it’s different, as though he’s making up for lost time that you both didn’t know you’d missed.
You’d be lying if you said you weren’t drunk on him, pulling him closer while he’s buried in your cunt, pleading with him not to stop what he’s doing because you’ll never get enough of him. You kiss and suck at every piece of his skin available to you, desperate to have his taste again. He does the same, leaving love bites across your collarbone and on both breasts. You think the sight of those marks spurs him on. For you, it’s his groans and gasps drive you wild, and you find yourself craving them, desperate to hear them fall from his lips, pulled from him by you.
The second time he empties himself into your pussy, you plead with him to let you clean him again. He obliges, but what remains on his cock isn’t enough for you, and you guide his fingers between your legs, scooping his spend out of you and licking it from his fingertips. His pupils blow wide as he repeats the motion, dragging his fingers through your cum-soaked cunt and watching as your tongue traces his knuckles, cleaning him off.
“Fuck, Bolts,” he whispers with a gentle veneration that sharply contrasts with your debauched state. When you’re finally sated, he kisses you deeply, tongue tracing yours. He looms over you as you feel your hips being raised with rough hands, Crater you think, slipping back inside of you while Chuckles steals the air from your lungs, his fingers drifting down to play with your clit and draw another moan from you.
You lose count of the orgasms they pull from you, spiraling higher with each one until they shove you off of the cliff, leaving you a wrung-out, panting mess on your mattress. Your sheets are damp and you know you’ll need to wash them after this, but for the moment, you can’t be bothered to care about the way the fabric sticks to your skin.
“I think she’s ready.”
You think it’s Crater talking. Hands help raise you to your hands and knees. A straw presses to your lips, and as your vision clears from the haze of your latest orgasm, you see it’s Chuckles. When you finish drinking from the water packet, you kiss his palm.
“Thank you,” you rasp, mustering a wink.
“Yeah, she’s ready,” he agrees. His voice is breathy, eager. He’s excited.
The mattress sinks again as Crater lies on his back, pulling you on top of him so that you’re straddling his hips. He doesn’t even give you time to settle before he pulls you down, impaling you on his cock with a gasp. There’s no resistance at this point in the night, and he bottoms out easily. Your hands fall forward onto his chest, and you realize you’ve never been on top of him before. You clench, grinding on him playfully, but before you can make a snide comment about getting used to this, his hand rockets out, gripping your throat.
“Don’t get any ideas.”
You glance over at Chuckles, who’s watching you hungrily, his lip caught between his teeth. He’s already pumping his cock slowly. A hand taps your cheek, and you look back down at Crater as he begins thrusting into you.
“Eyes on me, pretty girl.” His hand slips back down to your throat and squeezes. You clench instinctively, and he smirks. “Good girl.”
Crater lets you ride him for a while, grinding against him and bouncing on him until sweat slicks your heated skin. You’re closing in on your next orgasm when he grabs your hip, slowing you. You whine as the coil in your gut loosens.
“I promise it’ll be worth it,” Crater rasps. Reaching up, he pulls you forward onto his chest before speaking over your shoulder. “Go on, Gregor. She wants to be filled. Let’s give our good girl what she wants.”
You hear a chuckle from behind you as Gregor kneels down, straddling Crater’s legs. He presses against your spine, arching your back and presenting you to him. Crater’s cock twitches inside of you, and he nips at your ear. His voice carries a tinge of a thrill as he whispers to you.
“Gonna stuff you full, pretty girl. Just like you wanted. We’re going to use you all at once and fill you. Now, be good and relax for Gregor.”
You feel Gregor massaging more lube into your already slick asshole, pushing some cum back out of you, and you tremble in Crater’s grip as you feel Gregor’s body get closer to you, the heat radiating off of him.
“Color?” Crater whispers.
“Green.”
He nods at Gregor, and you feel the head of the commando’s cock brush your asshole. You shiver and whine. Crater thrusts up into you slowly to appease you, massaging the back of your neck. You reach around, spreading your ass for Gregor, and he giggles.
“She’s so desperate to be filled ,” he snickers. “Don’t worry, I’ll give you what you need, love.”
And then he enters you. Your back arches even more as Gregor works his way inside of you, a centimeter at a time, thrusting gently in and out of your ass. He’s careful and cautious, a far cry from the man that took you roughly for the first half of the night. You’re appreciative and impatient, but you stay still as you’re stretched around them. Crater holds you tightly to his chest, stroking your hair and whispering praise in your ear as you moan.
“I can feel you taking him. You’re doing so well. Knew you’d be so good for us. Letting us have all of you like this. Such a good girl. So pretty with two cocks in you. Can’t wait to see Chuckles fill your mouth too.” You whine again, and Gregor gasps.
“Oh, she liked that.” He grips your hip as he pushes himself further in. “That’s what you want isn’t it? To be completely filled? Knew you were filthy the first night you let me fuck you in that alley, but never imagined you’d be like this, Bolts.”
You clench again, and he spanks you. The grip on your throat returns, and suddenly Crater’s snarling in your ear.
“Don’t make me regret letting you have our cocks so soon, pretty girl. Otherwise, we can tie you up with that silk rope and really draw this out. Now, are you going to behave?”
“Yes,” you gasp. “Yes, sir.”
“Good.”
Gregor bottoms out, and you groan loudly, clawing at Crater’s shoulders for purchase, attempting to ground yourself as the pleasure takes hold of your every nerve ending. Crater is holding so still, and you can feel the tension in him as Gregor slowly draws almost completely out of you and then thrusts back in.
“That good, love?”
“S-so good,” you stammer.
He does it again, stilling as he buries himself in you. Your breath is coming in short gasps.
You need more.
Crater fists your hair, pulling your head up so that your foreheads are touching. Your mouth is hanging open as he stares into your eyes. “Are you ready?” he grits out.
“Yes. Please. Please fuck me.”
He thrusts his hips slightly, and your eyes roll back in your head as an inhuman moan escapes you. You’re so full. Every inch of your skin prickles with pleasure. It’s perfection and everything you’ve ever wanted. You’ve never been used like this, had your body pressed between two lovers. You never want it to end as you begin to float, basking in the stretch of your body as it accommodates the two men.
And then Gregor starts moving. The two of them fall into a slow rhythm, Gregor driving into you as Crater drags himself back out. They cue off of each other, picking up the pace until they’re fucking you hard, your body jostling between the two of them. You prop yourself up on your palms, glancing over your shoulder at the man buried in your ass. A strand of Gregor’s normally slicked hair has come loose, hanging in his eyes as he stares down at where his cock is sliding in and out of you. It’s the most disheveled you’ve ever seen him, and it thrills you to know that you’re the reason. You’re making the commando come undone.
A groan from the corner of the room catches your attention, and you turn your gaze to where Chuckles is leaning against the wall, pumping his cock in time with Gregor’s thrusts.
“Chuck,” you whisper. It’s a plea, one he’s more than willing to reward. He wastes no time in getting to your side, kneeling next to you. Crater readjusts you so that you’re leaned towards the mohawked pilot, and he buries his hand in your hair as he feeds you his cock.
“Fuck, you’re so beautiful like this,” he rasps. He’s wrecked. You can see it. You try to concentrate on running your tongue along the base of him as the other two thrust into you, but it’s hard. You find you’re getting lost in the constant drag of the three thick cocks in and out of you, but a sharp tug to your hair grounds you. Tears stream down your cheeks as you look up into Chuckles’s eyes.
“S-so gorgeous like this. So p-perfect. What a sight you are. Taking three cocks. N-never thought… fuck, like that.”
You hum around him, and his hips jolt, sending his cock to the back of your throat. You’re a disheveled mess, but the way Chuckles is looking at you makes you desperate to please him, desperate to be his. You press him into your throat again and gag. You can see him already getting close, a vein in his temple throbbing as he attempts to hold himself off for at least a little longer.
“You gonna let me fill that throat, sweetheart?” he asks. “Gonna swallow all of it for me like a good girl?”
You choke again as he presses to the back of your throat, but you don’t tap out, and he keeps going. You know you’ll be hoarse tomorrow, but that’s what you wanted. Chuckles begins to fuck your mouth more roughly.
You love it. You begin to clench, the coil in your gut tightening as you get lost in the sensation of the three men taking their pleasure from you. They use you, exactly as you wanted and hoped. You’ve surrendered to them, entrusting them with your body and being, and they’re taking all that they need while giving you everything you’d ever fantasized about. You’re bliss embodied, pressed between their warmth as they pull you apart and push you towards yet another orgasm.
Chuckles twitches against your tongue, and you know he won’t be able to hold out much longer. “G-gonna paint that pretty tongue. You ready?”
You hum against him once more, and he groans, pulling you off of him and tilting your head back.
“Open your mouth. Open your f-fucking mouth.”
You do, sticking out your tongue. Chuckles presses the head of his cock against your lower lip, pumping himself frantically. “S-so fu-cking good,” he grunts as he unleashes himself. You feel the hot, sticky warmth hit your tongue, some landing on your upper lip and painting your cheek. Chuckles groans as you keep your mouth open expectantly. With a shaking hand, he drags his thumb across your cheek, catching his stray cum and smearing it on your tongue.
You keep your mouth open.
He stares at you before understanding creeps across his face. He leans down close to you, gripping your jaw. You feel his breath stutter against your skin. Crater and Gregor slow, watching the two of you. All you can see is Chuckles as his gaze flicks to your open mouth, and then your eyes, asking for your final permission.
“Are you mine?” he whispers.
You nod.
Chuckles stares into your eyes as he hollows his cheeks and spits directly into your mouth.
“Good girl,” he praises. “Now swallow.”
You do.
And you cum violently.
Every inch of your body locks down, and you gasp and whine and moan, as wave after wave crashes over you. Your vision goes blurry as tears leak from your eyes, and you shudder and twitch. You feel Gregor and Crater both groan. Gregor pulls out and comes across your ass, and Crater’s hips stutter as he empties himself inside of you again. You collapse forward onto his chest, curling into a ball and shivering violently. Warm hands cup your face.
“Bolts?”
Crater’s voice sounds so far away. You feel fingers tap your cheek gently. Your eyes flutter open, and you find Crater watching you carefully, searching your gaze with concern. Your pulse is beating against the inside of your skull, and you feel hot and freezing at the same time. You’re gathered into arms and cradled. More than one set of hands moves over you, carefully inspecting and pressing.
“I’m alright,” you rasp. “But I think I’m done for now.”
“Yes, you are,” Crater whispers against your cheek. “You did so well. I’m so proud of you.”
“I’m s-sorry. I didn’t ask on the last one. S-snuck up on me,” you stutter.
“That’s alright,” Crater soothes, his voice gentle and warm. You’re pretty sure his lips are pulling upward in amusement at your apology.
“Did… was it… Bolts…” Chuckles is on your other side, cradling your neck and helping Crater support you. You can see apprehension in his face, worry that he overstepped in those final moments. You grin dopily at him before pulling him down for a kiss.
“It was perfect,” you whisper. “You were perfect.”
He smiles.
Crater is quietly watching the two of you, and after a few moments, he leans down to speak quietly to you. “I’m going to give you to Chuckles so we can get you cleaned up. Is that alright?” You nod, and he kisses your forehead before shifting you into Chuckles’s arms. “Hold her and take care of her. I’m going to go get her shower started.”
“I’ll change the sheets while you do that,” Gregor offers. Crater nods.
Chuckles eases you down, wrapping his arms around you and tucking you against his chest. His heart is thundering, but the steady rhythm soothes you as you tuck yourself closer to him. He places a kiss to the top of your head, inhaling deeply in your hair. The tremors wracking your body begin to subside as you’re enveloped in Chuckles’s arms.
“Easy, Bolts. I’ve got you,” he whispers into your hair.
“I know,” you murmur.
You hear Gregor rummaging around in your storage bin until he finds your only other clean set of sheets. The shower hisses on, and after a few minutes, Crater re-emerges. He and Chuckles guide you to the ‘fresher, helping you into the shower. Your shower isn’t large, but somehow the three of you fit into it. Crater supports you as Chuckles carefully cleans every inch of you. They work together to wash your hair, which is matted from the night’s activities, gentle fingers massaging your scalp. They check you over, ensuring you’re not uncomfortable. You reassure them incessantly until some of your snark returns, which earns you another kiss from Chuckles, playful but clearly intended to shut you up.
When you’re cleaned to their satisfaction, Gregor is waiting with a towel and wraps you in it as you step out on wobbly legs. He dries your hair with another one as Chuckles and Crater flank you, ensuring you stay on your feet. When he’s done, Gregor leans down and kisses your cheek. stroking your face tenderly. You roll your eyes, but you can’t deny you appreciate his gentleness.
The three of them lead you to your mattress, which they’ve left on the floor. Crater lets Chuckles lay down with you first, pulling you against him before he lies down next to you, snuggling against your back. Gregor has water waiting and helps you drink. Their warmth soothes you, but something’s shifted. Every touch from Crater is hesitant, and it seems as though he’s waiting for Chuckles’s permission. Finally, they make eye contact over your shoulder, and Chuckles nods at his brother. That seems to relax Crater, as if he were worried he was nearing some sort of unseen boundary. Gregor lies on a bedroll at the head of the mattress, and it’s not long before you hear him drop off, snoring softly. Crater’s breathing fans across the skin between your shoulder blades, and it’s not long before that evens out as well, and his arm subconsciously slips around your waist.
Chuckles is still awake, although you can hear that his heart has slowed to a steady rhythm from where your face is pressed against his chest. You snuggle into the dip of his shoulder, inhaling his scent as you feel him playing with your hair. You think you hear him murmur something to you, but you can’t make out the words before sleep takes you.
—
You wake in the middle of the night to fingertips digging into the flesh of your hips and grunts and gasps coming from behind you. In your half-awake state, you glance over your shoulder. You’ve rolled over to face Crater, and Chuckles is lying on his side behind you, rutting against your ass with sweat peppering his brow. His lips are slightly parted as he watches his cock stroke between your ass cheeks.
“‘M sorry,” he whimpers. “You just… fuck you look so good. I tried to just… I’m sorry.”
His eyes meet yours, pleading and burning into you in the darkness.
“What do you need?” you whisper, grinding back into him slightly. He’s so worked up, he moans at the contact, his forehead pressing against the back of your neck.
“C-can I have your ass?” he begs. “Please let me have it.”
You reach behind you, arching your back and spreading yourself to give him more access in silent concession. Chuckles eagerly takes his cue, cock already slick with lube, and he frantically spreads some on your asshole with his fingers, groaning as they slip inside of you easily. You scoot back against him, and he holds his breath as he presses in, unleashing a low, wanton groan as he bottoms out easily. You’re sore from the night’s activities, but the fullness and the feeling of Chuckles’s warmth behind you, his need, it spurs you on, and you press yourself back into him, spearing yourself on his cock.
“Fuck, you’re perfect. I can’t believe you let me do this to you. Never going to be able to get this out of my head, Bolts,” he groans, his breath fanning across your skin.
“Don’t have to,” you pant as he slowly drags himself back out of you. “I’m yours, Chuckles. All of me. Whenever you want.”
“You mean that?” he rasps against your shoulder.
“Yes.”
He cradles you in his arms as he slowly thrusts in and out of you, whispering against your skin.
“I’ve wanted to do this forever. Wanted you so badly, but was always afraid you’d tell me to get kriffed. If I’d known, I’d have taken you home that first night at 79s. I’d have had you a million times by now. Every chance I could.”
You reach behind you, gripping his hip and pulling him into you, and he interlaces his fingers with yours. He presses closer until he’s able to kiss along the back of your neck and your shoulders, and you arch your spine to give him a better angle. A warm hand grips your knee, and you turn to find Crater pulling your leg over his thigh.
“She’s beautiful, isn’t she?” he whispers to his brother.
“She’s fuckin’ gorgeous,” Chuckles agrees. “So soft. So fuckin’ soft and warm.”
“So good for us,” Crater rasps.
You whimper as his fingers trace your lips before his hands find their way to your breasts, tweaking your nipples and making you keen in Chuck’s grasp.
“What do you need, pretty girl? Tell me, and I’ll give you whatever you want.”
Your brain is buzzing, completely lost in the way Chuckles feels inside you and the way Crater is looking at you, hungry and interested and wanting. You try to wet your lips, attempting to answer his question, but Chuckles thrusts into you again, and you gasp instead. Crater cups your jaw, watching as your brows furrow in pleasure. His eyes dart over your shoulder, and Chuckles nods at him. Having whatever permission he felt he needed, Crater kisses you. His beard scratches against your skin as his tongue slides past your lips, and you sob as his fingers find your clit. He swallows every moan and gasp, eventually moving along your jaw, sucking marks on your neck where your jumpsuit will cover it.
Chuckles grips you harder but keeps his pace slow, every ridge of his cock stroking your insides as he buries himself inside of you once more.
“Do you want Crater to fill you again, sweetheart? You want us both to take you again?”
All you can manage is a nod.
Crater nibbles along your collarbone. “Need to hear you ask, Bolts.”
You manage to gasp out a single word.
“Please.”
Crater pulls your leg further over his hip, and Chuckles adjusts to give him room. You feel fingers drag through your folds before the hot, blunt head of Crater’s cock presses against you. You squirm, trying to drive him into you too.
“Shhhh easy, pretty girl. Gonna be gentle and go slow.”
“She’s so impatient,” Chuckles teases from behind you. “You just want our cocks that badly, gorgeous?”
“Please,” you beg again, your voice a hoarse whine.
Crater’s knuckles graze you again as he notches his head at your entrance and presses into you. His eyes flutter closed as he moans, shallowly thrusting into you until he finally buries himself in your heat.
The two of them fuck you slowly, their hands roaming your body, reverently tracing your skin, playing with your breasts and nipples, readjusting you or holding your legs open. They praise you, worshiping your body with gentle touches and reverent words.
“So perfect for us,” Crater rasps as his cock slides into you again. “Such a good girl.”
“Like the Maker created you just for us,” Chuck gasps, sliding his hands around you to palm your breasts. “So good. Never gonna get enough of you. Can I keep you?”
“Yes. I’m yours,” you moan. “All yours.”
You’re not sure if minutes or hours pass, the only sound in the room being the rustling of the sheets, quiet groans, and whispered words in between shared breaths. Hands pull your face back and forth, angling your lips so that they can both kiss you. They’re both so different. Crater’s passionate, but it’s clear the kiss enhances the sex for him, whereas Chuck seems like he’d be satisfied only kissing you. When his mouth envelops yours, he sometimes forgets to keep moving, and you have to grind back into him to remind him. It’s an awkward angle with him behind you, but you ignore the strain in your neck, desperate to taste him more. The way he moves, the way he holds you, the way he fucks you, it all feels as though he’s trying to convey a message that the two of you have long allowed to go unspoken.
You hope he understands that everything is reciprocated.
Your earlier orgasms were quickly built and rushed towards at breakneck speed, but the two pilots seem more concerned with carefully crafting your pleasure this time, grinding into you and finding the angles and touches that pull you closer to the precipice. You reach behind you, burying your fingers in Chuckles’s mohawk as he pants against your skin. Crater presses his forehead to yours as he reaches between you, pressing against your clit.
“You don’t have to ask for it,” he reassures you. “Tell us what you need. Tell us how to make you cum.”
You’re close. You’re so close.
A soft groan breaks the silence from above your head, and you look up, meeting Gregor’s gaze as he watches the three of you, pumping his cock in the dark. His eyes are blown out with lust, and his lips are parted as his eyes find yours.
“Gregor, come here,” you whisper.
“You don’t have to, love. I can just watch.”
“I need it. I need you. I’m so close. Please.”
Crater angles himself away, giving Gregor the room he needs to kneel near your head and offer you his cock. You open your mouth eagerly, taking him between your lips. His hips jerk when you run your tongue across his tip, flicking at his slit before finding the vein that runs along his shaft and tracing that downwards, taking him to the back of your throat. He doesn’t press you, but you need more. You grab Gregor’s thigh and pull him closer so that you can bury his cock in your throat. He cradles your head gently, trying to take some of the strain from your neck, but you couldn’t be less concerned, chasing your high with the three of them buried inside of you.
It’s so different from the first time the three of them took you together, more gentle and slow, but no less thrilling for you. This time, you’re more aware of the slide and grind and feel of them as they push and pull, the way it feels when the tips of their cocks catch at whatever entrance they’re using. Sweat slicks your skin as you slowly squeeze your lower muscles, drawing a grunt and curse from Crater and Chuckles.
“Want to see you cum for us, love,” Gregor encourages. “Want to watch you come undone. You’re so beautiful when you do.”
You release him for a moment, resting your cheek against his thigh as you catch your breath. A line of spit connects your lips to him still, but he tenderly brushes it away. Just then, Chuckles readjusts behind you, and suddenly, he’s hitting the perfect place, and your eyes widen as your mouth falls open in a silent scream.
“She loves that. Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop,” Gregor rasps.
“C-couldn’t if I tried,” Chuckles replies. “Cum for us, sweetheart. I’m not going to last.”
Crater’s nimble fingers find your clit again, and you gasp.
“G-Gregor,” you plead.
“What do you need?” he asks softly.
“Touch me. Please.”
He leans forward, cradling your face and pressing his thumb to your lower lip, rubbing it along your skin until you take it in your mouth and suck on it. You run your tongue over the callouses on his thumb, and somehow between the taste of his skin and the way he’s looking at you, it’s enough.
You cum with a stuttering moan. Your eyes flutter closed as you release Gregor’s thumb, panting and gasping as your muscles lock down and you shiver. Your head swims as wave after wave washes over you, seemingly unending until you’re left trembling in its wake.
“Beautiful,” you hear Gregor whisper between punctuated breaths. When you open your eyes, he’s coated his knuckles with his spend. He scoots away from you, and suddenly, Crater’s lips are crashing against yours, and his fingers bury themselves in your hair as his thrusts grow more erratic.
“I’m close,” he whines.
In your haze, your hand drifts to his neck, and his eyes snap to meet yours. You freeze for a moment, fearing you’ve made a mistake until he places his hand over yours and gives you a slight nod. The unspoken words are hanging in his gaze.
Do it.
You squeeze gently against the muscles of his throat.
“Cum for me,” you whisper.
And he does, groaning as he empties himself inside of you.
Chuckles is close behind, bottoming out as he fills your ass one more time. He holds you for a moment before slipping from you, panting against your skin. Gregor’s already kneeling between your legs, cleaning you gently with a warm cloth.
“I’d try to get you to the shower again, but I don’t think we have enough towels,” he joked.
“S’ok,” you mumble. “Don’t think I could make it there anyway.”
Three different sets of lips find yours in the darkness, one bearded, one clean shaven, and one scarred. They each whisper their thanks, and you thank them in return. The words feel insufficient on your tongue. The trust and adoration you feel for each of these men seems overwhelming in the aftermath, and you’re unsure you’ll ever be able to convey to them what it means to you to feel this comfortable with them, to feel this safe.
You suspect they know, even if you never find the words.
You’re pulled back into Chuckles’s chest, but this time, Crater doesn’t take the place beside you. Instead, he opts for the bedroll Gregor was sleeping on, offering his place to the commando.
For once, Gregor seems uncertain, and you have to stifle a giggle and the snarky remark that’s threatening to erupt from you. Instead, you reach for him, and he takes your hand, sinking onto the mattress next to you.
“Come closer, I don’t bite,” you snicker.
“I would beg to differ,” he responds, which earns him a playful slap to the chest.
“You like it.”
“Only in some settings, love.” His teeth flash in the darkness as he gives you another cheeky grin.
You take his hand, placing it around your waist. “We’ve never done this,” you say softly.
“Never slept together either if memory serves.”
“Well, maybe we should this time.”
“If you snore, I’m smothering you.”
You roll your eyes. “I might smother you regardless.”
He huffs, but you slip a hand around the back of his head, pulling his face to yours and resting your forehead against his.
“You know I don’t hate you, right?”
His eyes soften slightly. “News to me.”
You grimace. “I don’t like you. A lot of the time. I don’t know why, but you get under my skin, sometimes on purpose I think.”
He shrugs. “Riling you up is one of my favorite pastimes.”
You roll your eyes again before sobering. “But… I do care about you. And want you safe.” You exhale. “And there are times I don’t dislike you. Times outside of when we’re fucking.”
He smiles, not the cocky grin that he usually has, but a genuine, soft smile.
“I’m glad. Because I don’t always dislike you either.”
“It only took a foursome for that to get resolved,” Chuckles mutters from behind you. You reach back and pinch his ass in retaliation. He pulls you closer, grazing his teeth along your neck. “Behave or I’ll leave a mark the suit can’t cover.”
“Fine,” you concede. “But don’t get used to it.”
—
You wake in the morning to a warm presence next to you. When your eyes flutter open, you find Chuckles sleeping peacefully on his side, his nose brushing yours. His arms are wrapped around you, and he’s snoring softly. You hear bumping around in your ‘fresher along with some off-key muted singing. You smile, recognizing the gravelly, high-pitched tenor as Gregor’s. Crater is nowhere to be found.
A low hum draws your attention, and you find Chuckles’s warm eyes staring into yours, having awakened with your movement. “Hey,” he whispers.
“Hey,” you reply.
He’s searching your eyes, and hesitantly, his hand strokes your cheek. You lean into his touch, and something in his gaze softens. Your heart stutters in your chest.
“Glad we got your eject fixed,” you whisper.
“Yeah. Me too,” he replies. “Wouldn’t have wanted to miss this.”
Your fingers trace a scar that runs down the center of his chest on top of his sternum. “Would… would you do it again?”
He raises his head to look at you. “With you?”
“No, with Rog,” you mutter. He reaches down and lightly flicks your cheek, and you giggle. “Of course with me, you fuckin’ mynock. I told you that last night.”
“I wasn’t sure you meant it or if you just said it in the moment.”
“Of course I want you, Chuckles. I have for about as long as we’ve known each other. But was scared, same as you.”
He slips his knuckle under your chin, and your mirth fades from the intensity with which he’s looking at you.
“Bolts, I’ll sleep with you as many times as you let me. But what I’d really like to do is take you to dinner.”
Heat flushes across your face. You like that thought. But you know it’s impossible.
“Chuck, we can’t. If anyone knew… well, I don’t know what would happen to you, but at a minimum, the other guys might think I pay more attention to your fighter than theirs. Or they’d think you’d get special treatment, or-”
He cuts you off with a kiss, and you melt into him.
“Fine. When this is all over then. I’ll take you to dinner when we win the war.” He holds out his little finger. “Pinky swear.”
You smirk, locking your pinky with his. “Deal.”
Silence hangs between you for a few minutes as the two of you get lost in each other’s eyes, savoring this moment that’s just between the two of you. To your relief, everything feels the same with him.
But it’s also undeniably different. And you don’t want to go back.
He’s thinking hard about something. You can see it in the way the wrinkle between his brows deepens. You snuggle closer.
“What is it?”
“You… I don’t know how to say this, so I’m just going to bumble through it. I know I just told you that I want… I want to date you, but it doesn’t… I don’t… it doesn’t just have to be me if you don’t want it to be. I know you and Crater have a thing going, and at this point, I have no idea what is going on with you and Gregor, but I don’t want-”
It’s your turn to shut him up by pressing your lips to his. He mumbles against your mouth, and you giggle.
“It’s rude to interrupt,” he scolds when you come up for air. “I lose my train of thought easily.”
You roll your eyes, but get even closer to him, throwing one leg over his hip.
“Crater and I aren’t romantic. We’re casual. I would like to still have him involved, and Gregor too if he wants to be, but things with you are… different.”
“Different?”
“Yeah.”
“How?” He’s hopeful. And it warms and terrifies you at the same time.
Your brain buzzes with static as you flail to find the right words. “I… I want to go to dinner with you. I want to talk with you. I want to sleep next to you. Just sleep. I want to kiss you outside of this bed. When it’s just the two of us in the garage. I want to hear how your day went.” You huff in frustration as what you’re trying to convey continues to elude you. “I know that sounds ten kinds of cheesy.”
He grins. “I like cheesy.” He takes your hand, brushing his lips across your knuckles. “And I like you. I’m not worried about Crater and Gregor still being involved if that’s what you want, and I don’t think they’re threatened by me. And I’d like to see where this goes.”
You duck your head as heat rushes to your cheeks. “I’d like that too.”
Your eyes meet again, and something shifts between you.
You want him.
Leaning forward, you press your lips to his. He pulls you against him, rolling you underneath him. His knee slots between yours, and you’re already wrapping your legs around his torso, coaxing him into your heat.
“More? I thought you’d be sore, Bolts.” Despite his half-hearted protest, he ruts against you, his cock already hard as it slips against your core.
“I am. But I want more, Chuckles. More of you.” You bury your fingers in his mohawk, pulling his face down to yours and kissing him hungrily. He groans into your mouth. “Please,” you whisper against his lips. “Please let me have more with you.”
He huffs a laugh against your skin, his hand finding its way to your thigh as he pushes into you.
“I’ll give you anything you want, Bolts.”
Your arms wrap around him, fingers digging into his skin as he eases into you, panting against your cheek. It’s slow and gentle and tender and so different from anything you did yesterday, but this is what you want.
And you want it with Chuckles.
He presses his forehead to yours as he bottoms out. The soreness fades to a dull ache, overcome by the feeling of him inside of you, pressing against your walls as he nestles even deeper inside of you somehow. Your lips find his again, and his tongue slides into your mouth as he slowly starts to rock his hips into you. Heat courses through you as your heart flutters. You’re giddy, and you feel like you’d float away if he wasn’t pinning you to the mattress.
Sex with Chuckles almost feels like a soothing balm after all of the nights you’d spent thinking of him, certain he was out of reach to you. Even though he’s inside of you, you want him closer, want to feel as much of his skin against yours as you can. He cradles your face, studying your every feature as he takes you, taking note of every moan and whine and angle that draws them from you. He’s patient and attentive, exploring you in ways he didn’t have the time to last night.
“Maker alive, I can’t get over how gorgeous you are,” he pants.
“You’re not so bad yourself.”
He manages a smirk as sweat trickles from his temple. “Damaged goods.”
“I prefer the phrase ‘uniquely customized,’” you whisper, pressing a kiss to the scarred corner of his mouth. “I do have one question though.”
He pauses, remaining buried inside of you. “What?”
“That mark on your ass?”
He stifles a sheepish giggle, burying his face in your shoulder and muttering, “Was hoping you’d forgotten about that.”
“I’d like to think I’m going to see a lot more of that mark if we’re sleeping together. It was bound to come up again.”
He thrusts into you gently, and you glare at him for his obvious attempt to distract you. He gives you a pained grin, clearly understanding you won’t be deterred.
“Fine. My batchmate and I agreed to tattoo each other one night when we were cadets. His name is Two-Pint, and he’s known for his homebrews. They are deadly. Needless to say, we’d had a few. Can’t remember what I asked for, but that’s what I wound up with. It’s anybody’s guess as to what it was supposed to be, and it’s a miracle it didn’t get infected.” He wiggles his eyebrows. “So, what do you think it looks like?”
You burst into laughter. Deep, belly-shaking laughter.
Chuckles seems surprised for a moment, but soon is giggling as well, burying his face in your neck as he shakes with mirth. He’s still buried inside of you, but somehow, the laughter feels more intimate than anything you’ve ever done with a partner. You wish you could bottle this moment, keeping it for your darkest days. You press your foreheads together as you get lost in each other, kissing one another in between fits of giggles as he occasionally rolls his hips into you.
“You’re an idiot,” you gasp, wiping tears from your eyes.
“As long as I’m your idiot,” he grins back, readjusting his legs and thrusting back into you at an angle that makes you see stars.
“You two are having entirely too much fun out here,” Gregor snarks, emerging from the ‘fresher with a towel wrapped around his waist.
“You jealous?” you tease.
“Of you having to hear Chuckles’s jokes all the time? Not on your life,” he replies, retrieving his clothes and beginning to dress.
“Leaving so soon?”
“Got a briefing.”
“Not even time for one last quickie?” you tease.
“As appealing as that sounds, love, I think if I get undressed again, I’ll be tempted to make myself late.”
“At least have breakfast then,” Crater says from the door. He’s carrying a box in one hand and a small bag in the other. “I went out and got some food. Bolts doesn’t keep much to eat around here.”
Gregor smiles, plucking a pastry from the box when Crater offers it. “Let’s do this again sometime then.”
“Stay safe,” you call from under Chuckles.
Gregor hesitates before approaching the mattress and bending down towards you. Chuckles makes room as the commando presses a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll do my best, but no guarantees. I’ll comm you.”
“No you won’t.”
“I’ll try.”
You roll your eyes as the commando grabs his bedroll and leaves, tossing one last wink over his shoulder. You can’t help but smile as he disappears out the door.
Crater sets the box on the floor next to you. “I suppose I should get going too. Briefing’s cancelled for today, by the way.”
Chuckles pauses, slipping out of you to roll onto his side as he looks at Crater. You huff indignantly, but he’s too focused on what his captain is telling him. “How’s that work? We leave tomorrow.”
Crater smirks. “Not anymore. Looks like the situation will resolve itself in the next few hours, and our support won’t be needed. The 501st gets to have all the fun today.” He reaches for a pastry that smells like jogan fruit. “So you two relax and enjoy yourselves. Especially since Bolts already had the garage closed to do her inspections today. No one should bother you.”
“What are you going to do all day then?” you ask.
He pauses, glancing down at you before he shrugs. “Probably some reports to work on.”
Chuckles wrinkles his nose. “You always get your reports done first.”
Crater glares at him, but he shakes his head. “Always something to do.”
You both see through him.
“She wants you to stay, Crater,” Chuckles states with a slight tinge of exasperation. You stifle a grin as the pilot continues. “The deal is just that I get to take her out when this is all said and done. She’s explained where you two are at, and I’m not worried about it.” He grins, but Crater just quietly raises a brow, which sobers his brother. “She trusts you, and you know I do too. So stay if you want.” Chuckles pulls you closer to him. “But if I’ve got a day off, I’m not leaving this room.”
Crater takes a bite of the pastry, chewing slowly as he looks at you for confirmation. You nod.
“You don’t want things to change? I don’t want to overstep with you two,” he says quietly.
“You aren’t,” you reply, reaching for him. He wraps his hand around yours. “I know it’s different with us, but I still want you, Crate. I’d like it if you stayed.”
He seems taken aback for a moment, and you suddenly realize why he was so restless in his sleep last night.
He was worried he was intruding on something. He was going to step back to let us explore this.
And that’s why you love him. Not in the same way you feel for Chuckles. Not that you love Chuckles…yet. But Crater knows where you stand. And I think he feels the same.
Predictably, it only takes Crater a few seconds to slip back into his quiet confidence. But you still know that you finally surprised him, and you’ll relish in that moment for a while. He smirks at you. “Well. You did cum last night without permission. And you were pretty mouthy. I suppose we should work out what that will cost you.”
You feel the tension leave your shoulders as you feign indifference with a shrug. “If you feel the need.”
Chuckles tugs on one of your nipples, and you gasp, glaring at him without any real heat. “I think I’d like to see how she looks tied up in that silk rope you mentioned. If you think that fits the bill.”
Crater raises his scarred eyebrow, clearly surprised at how eager his brother is to jump in. Your body is already singing with anticipation as Chuckles peels the covers back off of you. You inhale sharply as you see all of the marks the three of them left on you the night before, but you can also see the two pilots already mapping the places they’re going to mark you next.
“I suppose that’d be appropriate,” Crater notes, opening the bag he brought with him. “I was going to give these to you as a parting gift, but maybe we’ll try them out today then.” He lifts out a set of binders, a new vibrator, and a gag that makes you clench around nothing. He notes how you dig your teeth into your lip at the sight of the last item. “Does that sound good to you, pretty girl? For Chuckles and I to try some new things with you today?”
“Yes,” you breathe.
“Yes what?”
You shiver. “Yes, sir.”
He smirks. “Better eat some breakfast then, Chuckles. It seems like you’re going to need the energy.”
The mohawked pilot grins as he crawls down to the end of the mattress, lifting your legs over his shoulders and sinking onto his stomach. You inhale sharply when he presses your legs apart, nuzzling at your clit as he meets your eyes, licking his lips.
“I’ll get a donut in a minute. There’s something else I’d like to eat first.”
A/N: Soooo uhhh... here's Part 3, featuring my favorite boy Chuckles. If you're new, Chuckles has his own fic, One Step at a Time, but I figured it was time he gets some *ahem* love. If you know what I mean. THANK YOU to @teletraan-meets-jarvis for beta-reading this for me and screaming with me about the boys. There is absolutely going to be a Part 4, and it will be longer.
Pairings: OC Crater x f!Reader, OC Chuckles x f!Reader, mentioned Gregor x f!Reader
Fic Rating: E (18+ MINORS SKEEDADDLE)
Warnings: language, fingering, PiV sex, anal play, mention of cum eating, marking, sex toy use, mention of foursome (in case you were wondering what Part 4 might entail)
Word Count: 6.5k words
Weeks pass with you and Crater continuing to meet in secret. He already reads you so easily, knowing what you need and when you need it with a shared glance or a subtle touch. There are nights he practically peels you apart until you’re laid bare for him, shuddering in the aftermath of however many orgasms he deemed necessary, but there are also nights where you don’t have sex at all, just enjoying one another’s company like you always have.
Tonight seems as though it’ll be the latter. It’s been a hard week with too many fighters going out and too few returning. Crater’s even lost a few brothers, and yet, somehow, he decided you were the one that needed consoling, showing up late in the evening with a bottle of whiskey and two glasses. Now, you sit perched on your desk with him in your rickety chair, the two of you a respectable distance apart as you sip the amber liquid in your glasses. Some of his men are still milling around in the hangar outside of your office, and you wonder if it’s to avoid going back to barracks that will be emptier than they were a week ago. You spy Strike, Chuckles, Guin, and even the medics Sticks and Stones speaking quietly to each other. Chuckles catches your eye for a moment before turning and speaking to one of the droids working on his fighter. His words don’t carry to you, but you can see how tired he looks. Grief is a part of the job, but it takes a toll regardless.
Crater’s quiet, his eyes more distant than usual. You suspect he’s doing the same thing as his brothers, biding his time until he’ll be too tired to count the empty bunks and think of their previous occupants. He’s lost fewer men than most, but you know each one weighs heavily on him.
“Rough week,” you murmur, staring into your glass. Not a strong start to a conversation, but you hope it’ll open the door for your friend if he needs it.
“Heard special ops might be back on Coruscant soon,” he notes, purposefully ignoring your statement as he swirls his whiskey. You take the hint, adjusting accordingly.
“Oh?”
“Gregor commed last night. Asking to meet up at 79s when he gets back. Couldn’t give an exact timeframe other than ‘soon’. Sounds like things haven’t gone great for him either the last little bit.”
You hum under your breath. In the chaos of the last week, you’ve hardly thought of the commando. A small pang of guilt settles into your stomach. You still wouldn’t say you like him, but that doesn’t mean that you don’t worry about him. You’re glad to hear he’s safe.
Crater’s studying you, and you meet his gaze.
“What?”
“He asked how you were.”
Your entire body suddenly feels warmer, and you take a sip of your drink to try and hide it, even though you know that won’t work with Crater.
“You gonna see him?” he asks.
You shrug. “Dunno.”
“I won’t be jealous.”
You smirk into your glass. “Wasn’t particularly worried about that.”
Crater taps his fingers on the arm of the chair. “You given any thought to what I mentioned a while back? With him and Chuckles?”
A jolt of electricity licks up your spine as the memory takes hold of you. You laying on your bed with Crater’s cock buried deep in your ass while he fucks you into your mattress, sweat slicking your skin as he whispers filth in your ear.
“I bet you’d love to have Gregor’s cock in here too. Maybe he takes your sweet little cunt while I pound your ass. But that still leaves your mouth. Maybe I get Chuckles in here to fuck that smart little mouth while Gregor and I take you. Would you like that, pretty girl? To be ruined by three men at once?”
Yeah, you’ve given that plenty of thought.
You shift as your cunt clenches around nothing, and Crater huffs before taking another drink.
“You want me to talk to him and Chuck?”
You catch your lip between your teeth. “If you did, I’d want the rules to be the same as they are with us. And we’d need to be careful.”
“Of course.” He leans forward, resting his elbows on his knees and lowering his voice. “I’d already planned on making the ground rules clear if you wanted me to approach them. They’ll know the limits and boundaries. The big thing I need to know from you is what you are looking to get out of it. How you’d want it to go.”
You allow your gaze to drift back out to where Chuckles is standing with his brothers.
There’s always been something between you and Chuck, although neither of you have ever made a move to explore it more. You’ve often found yourself snuggling into his side at 79s, even sitting on his lap a few nights, his hand settling protectively on your lower back as the two of you cackle uproariously at whatever antics are taking place around you. But you’d never thought there was anything more to chase after. Especially not after some of the fights you’ve had. And he’s never approached you, not like Gregor or Crater have, so you’ve always assumed there isn’t much interest on his part. But still, you know you trust him. And if you’re honest, before Crater came along, when you were alone in your bunk at night with your fingers buried in your cunt, it was a different member of the 28th who you cried out to as you came undone.
Crater’s staring at you, waiting for your response, and the corner of his mouth twitches, as if he can read your mind. You stutter out a response, hoping to distract him and derail your thoughts of Chuckles.
“I’d want… I’d want it to be something to blow off steam. I’m not really looking to be romanced or anything.”
“You never are.”
You huff indignantly and toss a wadded up piece of flimsi at him. He catches it, eyes boring into you. You haven’t said exactly what you desire, and he knows it. His voice is a low rasp, and you feel your face heat even though you are certain no one outside of the office can hear him.
“Ask for what you want, pretty girl.”
“I-I want it to be rough. I want the three of you to use me. I’d want to feel it the next day. I want to get out of my head, and help you all do that as well.”
Crater watches you for another moment before leaning back in the chair. “I think we can manage that. I’ll talk to them both when Gregor is planetside. If that’s what you want.”
It’s his last check for your confirmation, ensuring you’re really all in on this.
Your tongue darts out to wet your lips. “It is.”
He nods. “Good. Now, what do you need tonight?”
You’re taken aback. You didn’t think he’d be up for anything right now, and you certainly weren’t about to ask, but his posture has shifted to something less rigid. His legs are splayed a little wider, and he seems more relaxed, and now you find yourself wondering if this isn’t just for your benefit. He’s relaxed with you, and maybe you can finally help him for once, taking him out of his head in the same way he does to you. You don’t want him thinking about empty bunks or burning fighters.
You hop off the desk, standing over him until you have one of his thighs straddled between your knees.
“I need you to take what you want from me, Crater. And then I need you to sleep here with me.”
He knows what you’re doing, and you think he’s going to push back on the second half of your request for a moment. Instead, he tosses back the rest of his whiskey without breaking eye contact, letting one hand drift to your thigh, gripping you firmly and rubbing circles with his thumb against the fabric of your jumpsuit.
“Alright. Close the door then.”
You step away from him and head towards the entrance to your office. You can see the hangar has mostly emptied now, with the final few stragglers heading for the exit. Chuckles is among them, the last one out. As you go to shut your door, he turns back and meets your eyes. You can see his gaze flick to Crater, still in your office, before it moves back to meet your face. There’s something in those familiar brown irises that you can’t identify, and you briefly consider calling out to him. But before you can make up your mind, he puts on his helmet and leaves.
Something in your stomach twinges, but you ignore it.
You shut the door.
—
A few rotations later, you’re in your office when there’s a soft knock at the door.
“Come in.”
Crater enters, helmet still on.
“You busy?”
“No more than usual,” you reply without looking up from the datapad you’re punching away on.
He doesn’t remove his helmet. “Color?” His voice is lower in the modulator, almost as if he’s whispering.
You inhale sharply, finally looking up at him. His head is tilted to the side, evaluating you. He’s never come to you in the middle of the day before. And you suddenly realize why he’s probably here.
“Green,” you breathe.
He closes and locks the door, and without another word, he goes to your makeshift bedroom, returning a moment later with your plug.
“Strip and bend over the desk.”
You can’t shuck off the top of your jumpsuit fast enough, dragging your panties with it to your knees and bending over. You rest your elbows on the wooden surface as you have many times before with him, unleashing a shuddering exhale as he comes to stand behind you.
“Gregor’s back,” he rasps as he pulls your top desk drawer open, retrieving the bottle of lube you’ve hidden there for your more impromptu encounters in your office. You hear it click open, and you shudder with anticipation. “Chatted with him and Chuckles this morning. If you’re still alright with it, we’ll be by this evening after Gregor and I get out of our briefings.”
“Lucky for you, my schedule is clear,” you tease. You and Crater both know you hardly ever have plans.
He dips his helmet in a nod. His gloved hand comes to rest on your back, arching it slightly until your ass is presented to him. You feel some lube dribble onto your asshole, and you shudder at the chill as he presses the plug against you, working it in and out of you slowly until it’s fully nestled inside of you.
“If I had time, I’d break you in myself right now, but that’ll have to wait until tonight. Leave that in,” he growls. “And wear something nice.”
“Yes, sir,” you pant. You don’t know how you’re going to get through the next few hours like this.
“And don’t you dare go back there and touch yourself,” he warns.
You whine.
“I’ll see you tonight, pretty girl.” And with that, he slips out of your office, leaving you stripped bare and bent over your desk, trying to catch your breath. You slam the button under your desk that locks the door again, bracing yourself on your palms as you try to get your legs to stop quivering at the feeling of the plug pressed inside you.
Fuck.
You stumble into your back room on wobbly legs, wanting desperately to climb into your bed and stuff your pussy full with your vibrator. But Crater always knows somehow when you disobey him. Last time, he tied you up with some silk rope and toyed with you until you cried and begged for release. The rope was still tucked in your bedside drawer, a silent threat.
Not what I’m looking for tonight. More hoping for instant gratification. So I’ll behave. This time.
You quickly dig through your crate of clothes, finally finding the parcel you’d purchased a while back. Ever since you and Crater started sleeping together, you’ve tried to find a few more pieces of lingerie to add to your sparse wardrobe. Nothing expensive since you’re on a budget and Crater has a penchant for tearing delicate fabrics, but this one you’ve been saving for a special occasion. It’s a dark grey bra and panty set that matches the grey accents on the 28th Combat Wing’s armor perfectly. The lace tickles your skin as you pull it on, and you glance at yourself in the mirror briefly, admiring the way your breasts are pushed together. A tiny fake gemstone sits embedded on a charm that dangles between your breasts. It’s a deep magenta, the main color of the 28th. It really had been too ideal to pass up.
Perfect.
You pull your jumpsuit back on, trying not to think too hard about how full you feel as you recompose yourself and step back out into the garage.
The hours drag on. For better or worse, no one really bothers you, and you are able to mostly remain in your office, leaving you squirming in private as you try to get through your paperwork while not thinking about how tonight's going to go. When you finally hear the main lighting systems begin to power off, signaling the end of the day, you can’t help but sigh in relief. Stretching your arms above your head, you stand, heading out in the garage to make sure everything got put away properly at the end of the day and that all of the droids made it back to their docks.
It’s almost deafeningly silent in the darkness, and you keep to the path illuminated by the emergency lighting, taking your usual route through the hangar. Everything looks to be in order until a loud clanging sound makes you jump.
You halt and hear another loud clatter followed by a few muttered curses and some indignant beeping, making you pause in the darkness. Under one of the emergency light beams, you spot movement. A mohawked head pokes up out of a cockpit of a Headhunter, and you watch as a tool is tossed out of the fighter, hitting the floor with a loud clang right next to a borderline belligerent droid. You sigh, heading over to see what the fuss is about.
Chuckles is hunched over in his Z-95, muttering to himself as you quietly ascend the stepladder he’s pulled up next to the fighter. His armor is stacked on the ground next to the ladder, and as you reach the top step, you see he’s changed into a black tank top rather than his regulation undershirt with the Republic cog emblazoned across the chest. He’s leaning forward, giving you a view of some of the lines of the tattoo on his shoulder blade, flexing in the dim lighting as he grumbles unintelligibly. His arms and shoulders have several long, deep scars on them, more than Crater or any other pilot you’ve seen. Even his knuckles and fingers have a few light patches where the skin has had to heal. You wonder what caused them, and wonder if it’s tied to the large scar on his face. He’s burrowed under the flight controls, unaware of your presence, and you watch him for a few moments before leaning forward.
“Can I help you with something?” you ask at a volume that’s slightly louder than necessary.
Chuck jumps, smacking his head on the underside of the console with a loud curse. You giggle as he sits back in the seat, rubbing the back of his head and glaring at you.
“What the kriff, Bolts?”
“I could ask you the same thing. What are you doing in here?”
“My karking eject handle isn’t working.”
“You know you shouldn’t pull that in the garage, right?”
He glares at you again. “I’m well aware. But I can’t even get it primed. Something’s jammed.”
You raise an eyebrow down at the droid, R0-G3, that’s parked just below, who beeps to inform you he was in the process of repairing it when Chuckles showed up.
“Why can’t you let Rog do it? That’s his job.”
Rog beeps angrily in agreement, and Chuckles glowers at him. “He said he wasn’t going to finish it until tomorrow, and I won’t have time to check it tomorrow before we head out the next day.”
The droid beeps again, flashing his charge indicator, which is warning him it’s starting to get low. It seems he’s expended a good chunk of energy arguing with the pilot. You chew the inside of your cheek, something telling you there’s more to the story here.
“Why do you need to check it? Don’t trust the quality of work around here?”
Chuckles freezes, unable to meet your eyes. “Of course I do. It’s not that, it’s just…” He sits back heavily in the seat, his eyes fluttering closed as he releases a long sigh, rubbing his hands over his face. You jerk your head at R0-G3, and he takes his leave, rolling off towards the far door that leads to the chargers. You lean on the edge of the cockpit, resting your chin on your forearms.
“Alright. You wanna talk about it?”
“Not especially,” he mumbles from beneath his fingers.
You pick at some of the paint that’s peeling along one metal seam, changing tacks. “Crater talked to you about tonight, right?”
One of his eyes appears between his fingers, locking with yours. “Yeah. He said you’re onboard with it. That you asked.” For a moment, his gaze is as piercing as his brother’s, and you fight the urge to squirm as he analyzes you.
“I did.”
He hums, letting his hands drop to his lap and studying you. “I need to get this fixed tonight. Don’t really want to get into specifics. Just needs to be done. Even if I miss…all that.”
You nod, noting the way his fingers brush the scar on his cheek that you’d always thought of as sort of his trademark. The damaged skin seems to pull his mouth into a perpetual smirk, but to you it has always been obvious that the event that caused it was anything but joyous.
“If that’s the case, then we’d really better get this fixed,” you conclude, and before he can protest, you scale the rest of the ladder and climb into the cockpit with him, settling into his lap. He inhales sharply, and you wiggle your hips a little bit more than necessary as you duck under the console, pressing your ass against where his codpiece would normally be. It doesn’t take long before you feel something else that’s hard as plastoid pressing against you.
“BOLTS! Maker almighty, what the kriff are you doing?”
“Helping you fix your ship. That’s my job.”
You pull a penlight from your breast pocket and click it on, turning upside down to examine the eject mechanism under the seat. Everything looks normal.
“Try to arm it for me.”
Chuck sighs above you, but leans over you, one hand resting on your hip as the other flicks the eject switch on his console. You see the indicator light blink green, and you cautiously reach your hand out to the handle.
“There should be a little give if it’s actually disengaged,” Chuckles says. “If there’s no give, then it’s not actually armed.”
You gingerly tap the handle, and he’s right, the thing doesn’t budge a millimeter.
“Hm.” You trace the connection along the floorboards, following it under the flight console to where you originally found Chuck. “Can you hand me the driver that’s in my right back pocket?” you ask.
He huffs.
“It’s right there, Chuckles. And if Crater actually talked to you, that’s going to be one of the more tame things you’re doing tonight.”
You feel his cock jump where it’s pressed against your ass, and you playfully grind backwards a bit. The grip on your hips tightens, and Chuck huffs again before you feel a tug on your back pocket and the tool is thrust under the panel at you.
“See, teamwork makes the dream work,” you snicker. You can practically feel his eyes roll at you, but he doesn’t say anything else.
It only takes you a few moments to pry the panel loose and find the wiring. You can’t keep from wiggling and pressing back into Chuckles, and about the fifth time you do, you swear you feel him grind against you, but you ignore it, focused on your task.
You finally find the source of the issue, a broken connection in the wiring, and you tap his thigh, reaching behind you again. “Soldering iron. Other back pocket.” He hands it to you without protest this time, and within a few moments, you’ve got the connection fixed and look back between your and Chuck’s boots at the indicator light for the eject. It’s still on, but this time, when you tap the handle, there’s give. You sit up, your hair flying in every direction, grinning triumphantly. “Think I got it, but double-check that’s what you’re looking for.”
Chuckles leans over you, but without you climbing out of the cockpit, there’s not much room. He winds up practically doubled over you, his breath hot against the back of your neck as his fingers find the handle. You watch him give a slight tug, just enough to move it slightly.
“That’s it,” he says directly into your ear. “Perfect.” There’s a pause before he leans a little more forward and kisses your cheek. “Thanks, Bolts.”
Your face flushes with heat as he sits back, which feels ridiculous. This man is going to claim every part of you later if things go to plan, but here you are, giddy over a kiss on the cheek. “No problem,” you murmur, keeping your voice steady despite your fluttering stomach. “Now make sure it’s off so we don’t both get thrown out of here.”
You hear him huff a laugh as he leans forward and disarms the eject while you clamber back under the console to replace the panel. Once that’s done, you sit back against him, propping one foot up and allowing your head to drift back against his shoulder.
As much as you two bicker like drunken Jawas sometimes, Chuckles has always been your friend, another person you trust, even if you want to push him in front of a speeder at times. He takes your tools from you, carefully setting them on the top of the ladder before wrapping one arm around your waist, hesitantly letting the other hand rest on your thigh.
A silence settles between you two as you sit pressed together. You allow your hand to drift over his, resting there, and he presses his cheek against your forehead. You can feel the day-old scruff against your skin. His chest rises and falls, pressing against you, and with every passing breath, the anticipation seems to grow, making the air around you feel charged with electricity. This isn’t the first time you’ve sat like this with him, but normally, it’s done out of necessity, squishing together in a booth as more brothers arrive at 79s. Chuck’s hand has often found a place on your thigh, resting comfortably there. It thrilled you in the past, even though you’d always figured it would go no further.
You both know tonight is different.
Finally, he breaks the silence.
“So why me?” he asks. “Gregor and you needed to fuck it out. Crater’s… well he’s Crater. But why involve me?”
You reach up, letting your hand rest against his unmarred cheek. He doesn’t pull away, but watches you carefully. “Because I trust you, Chuckles. You’re right, Gregor started as a way to blow off steam. And so did Crater. But I wanted to… explore something, and Crater and I both agreed you and Gregor are the ones to explore with. I know whatever happens tonight will stay between us and won’t wind up scratched into a ‘fresher stall at 79s.” You swallow hard. “And… I care about you, more than I think you realize.”
“What’s that supposed to mean?”
You sigh. “Do you trust me?”
His brows knit together. “Of course.”
“With your life?”
“Where’s this going, Bolts?”
You interlace your fingers with his. “Did you know, I check every fighter that leaves this place myself? That is what’s going to happen tomorrow night before your squad leaves the following morning. I will be up all night if I have to, double-checking every millimeter of your fighter to make sure it’s up to snuff and will bring you back here.” You pause again, meeting his eyes. “Bring you back here to me.”
Something shifts in his gaze, and his expression softens. He squeezes your hand, running his thumb over your knuckles. “The eject didn’t work right when I got this,” he says quietly, tapping his scarred cheek. “I was in an uncontrolled spin, losing altitude, and no matter how hard I pulled, the damn thing wouldn’t work. When it finally did work, it launched me into the canopy, and that’s when I got cut. Broke more bones than I can count. Punctured a lung. And then I hit the water. Thought I was going to drown because I was too hurt to swim, and water was just leaking into my mouth through my cheek. It… it was the most scared I’ve ever been. I don’t want that to ever happen again. If I go out, I want it to be quick. I-I don’t want to have time to think about it. So, I always check.”
Your chest aches as you turn in his lap to straddle him, bringing your hands up to cradle his face, finally running your thumb along the raised skin on his cheek where the canopy’s transparisteel sliced him open. His eyes bore into you for a moment before he closes them, relaxing into your touch. Your heart twists at the thought of him, broken and bloodied in the seas of Kamino with his face flayed open, certain he’s going to die.
You kiss him.
It’s gentle and tender. There will be time for hunger and urgency later, but right now, you want to reassure him. You want him to know how much he means to you, that you care for him, and above all, you want him to know that he can trust you.
And something sparks within you as he kisses you back.
He’s careful and slow, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you closer to him. Warmth floods through you as he hesitantly traces his tongue along your lower lip, and you allow him entry, burying one hand in his short mohawk and cupping his jaw with the other. He probes your mouth gently, and you feel him melt into you, his grip loosening on you but still keeping you pressed against him. You’ve kissed Crater, hells, you’ve even kind of kissed Gregor, but nothing felt like this. Chuckles is consuming you, and you know you could easily get lost in him just like this. You want to, but after a few moments, you rest your forehead against his, stroking his cheek gently. “I will never let that happen to you again, Chuckles. Ever. You are too important to me.”
He meets your gaze for a few moments, and something unspoken flickers in his eyes before his face breaks out into a grin. “You know, if I’d known all this, I might have tried to get you out of that jumpsuit sooner.”
You understand what he’s doing; he’s not good with sentimentality. He’s always dealt with humor. He’s allowed his jester’s mask to drop more than he ever has before, and you will treasure the trust he put in you in that instant, but if he’d allowed the moment to linger, it wouldn’t be Chuckles.
But you also can’t deny that you already want to kiss him again.
Instead, you roll your eyes, turning around to face forward once more and resting your back against his chest. His hands slide down to your hips, and you feel him readjust. He’s still hard as durasteel, maybe more so now. You give a playful grind, and he gasps behind you.
“You’re playing dirty, Bolts,” he growls in your ear.
“I thought you liked it dirty. Weren’t you the one just talking about getting me out of my clothes?”
His fingers slide to your stomach, tracing the zipper of your jumpsuit upwards until he snags the tab up by your throat. “Indeed I was.” He playfully nips at your earlobe, pulling you closer with his other arm. “You got any cameras in here?”
“I’m flattered you think I have that kind of budget.”
He tugs the zipper down. “Good.”
You lean into him, allowing your head to fall back against his shoulder as he fully unzips your jumpsuit. He rests his chin on your shoulder, watching hungrily as each new centimeter of your skin is exposed to him. When the zipper is all the way down, he slips his hands inside of the rough fabric, tracing his fingers from your collarbone to your breasts before he gently cups the lacey grey garment you’ve chosen for this evening.
“This feels rather impractical and fancy,” he hums in your ear. He pinches the charm in the middle, huffing a laugh. “Pretty though. Especially on you. Fuck, you’re gorgeous.”
You shrug out of the top half of your suit, trying to hide the way your lips quirk at his praise and the heat in your face. He trails kisses along your bare shoulders as he helps you push the rough material downwards. “Very impractical,” you agree. “But not expensive. Meant to be ripped off of me.”
He laughs again, a low growl that rumbles through you, and his hands are on your skin again, rough and warm as you sit nearly bare in his lap. He slips one hand inside your bra, grazing your nipple and causing you to writhe in his grip. He squeezes your breast and you moan. “Lift your hips,” he grunts in your ear, and a thrill shoots through you. You comply, and he manages to push your suit down past your knees, helping you as you kick it the rest of the way off along with your boots. You go to pull your panties down too, but he stills your hand. “Leave them on.”
You sit back, and Chuckles immediately groans. His fingers reverently trace over your abdomen before they find their way between your legs, parting your thighs, and he inhales sharply when he feels the warm dampness there.
“Matching panties? And you’re soaked. Bolts, you’re filthy.”
His fingers are thick and warm against the seam of your undergarments before he slips his fingers under the lace, running his digits through your slick and bringing it to his lips. He moans as he tastes you.
“Fuck, you taste good.”
“You wanna taste more?” you ask, quivering as his fingers glide back between your legs.
“Not yet. Right now, I want to fuck you in this cockpit. I wanna think about how your pretty pussy feels wrapped around my cock when I’m flying.”
“Sounds distracting,” you reply in a tone far breathier than you care for.
“I hear I think better with my dick anyway,” he counters as he toys with your clit.
“Crater said to wait for them,” you gasp, desperately clinging to the last of your resolve.
“Since when do you take orders from the captain?” he teases, grazing his teeth along the skin where your shoulder meets your neck. “I thought it was your garage, your rules.”
“Since he started leaving handprints on my ass for disobeying him.”
He hums as he slips a finger inside you. “Seems like you want it right now though. I’d slide right in no problem with as wet as you are.” He nuzzles against your ear as he adds another digit and starts driving his fingers into you, rutting against your ass. You moan as he slips his fingers in and out of you, digging your nails into his arm. “Do you want my cock right now?” he rasps in your ear.
You hope Crater will appreciate how compromised you were later as you grind against Chuckles’s palm.
It’s really his fault for not getting here sooner.
“I want it. I want you to fuck me,” you moan.
“Lift your hips again for me then.”
You obey as Chuckles rolls down his pants enough to pull his cock out, pulling your panties to the side and notching himself at your entrance. You feel his knuckles graze you as he pumps himself. His other hand grips your waist.
“Sit.”
You sink down slowly on him, and you hear his head thunk against the headrest of the seat as you clench, gradually adjusting around him until you’re fully seated in his lap.
“Can feel the plug in your ass,” he grits out. “Crater said you might let us all take you at once, but I didn’t think he meant there. Maker, I can’t wait to feel you.”
You give him another squeeze, trying to pretend you have an ounce of composure as his fingers find their way back between your legs, playing with your clit.
You’re glad the garage is empty as you and Chuckles give into your carnal desires in the seat of his cockpit. You start off grinding slowly against him, allowing your walls to adjust around his thick member before you begin carefully bouncing up and down on him, ensuring to keep the head of him inside you before you drop back down on his thighs. It doesn’t take long for the wet slaps of your cunt slamming against him and your moans to start echoing throughout the empty garage.
He’s a talker. Of course he is.
“Maker, Bolts. I never thought you’d let me fuck this sweet little cunt. I’ve fisted my cock so many times, thinking about what it’d feel like to have you wrapped around me like this, but you’re so much warmer and wetter than I ever could have imagined. You’re like a fucking vice. I’m gonna fill you tonight. Take you in every way I can. Fuck, how are you so soft?” He presses against the small of your back, tipping you further forward as he thrusts up into you. His fingers trace the bruises on your hips and ass. “Crater leave these?”
“Mhm,” you moan, catching your lip between your teeth as he presses gently against the marks.
“You gonna let me leave some of my own tonight, sweetheart? Gonna let me brand you when I claim you?”
“Fuck, yes, Chuckles.”
He groans, gripping your hips harder. You brace yourself against the edges of the cockpit, ignoring the burning in your thighs and calves as they protest the awkward position. It’s nothing compared to the feeling of Chuckles inside of you, and right now, that’s all that matters to you as you chase your pleasure. You’ve been wound up all day, and Chuckles is finally giving you what you’d longed for, rubbing your thighs together at your desk for hours.
His fingers dig into your hips as he helps guide you up and down. Sweat dribbles between your breasts as you ride him frantically, chasing your high. He adjusts, and suddenly he’s hitting the perfect spot inside of you. Your head tips back and your brows pinch together as you frantically roll your hips, trying to ensure the head of his cock strokes the same place again and again.
“‘M so close, Bolts. Gonna cum in this pussy right now and then gonna have you clean my cock off. You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Fuck, I can’t wait to fuck your ass. You’re gonna be screaming my name all night, sweetheart. You close?”
You whine as he slips his hand back between your legs, circling your clit. “Yeah. Yeah I’m close.”
“Gonna cum on my cock, Bolts?”
“Not if she doesn’t want to get edged until she’s crying for the rest of the night,” a voice calls out from the darkness.
You and Chuckles freeze in the cockpit as two figures step into the light: Crater, who’s glaring at you, and Gregor, wearing a cocky smirk. Both of them are stripped down to only their under suits and boots, and Gregor’s wearing a tank top of some burger joint you don’t recognize, but it shows off his arms nicely. Both of them have bedrolls slung over their shoulders. Chuckles’s thumb rubs against your hip, and you clench around him.
“I thought I told you to behave yourself,” Crater reminds you, his tone the low and dangerous baritone you’re more than familiar with.
“Technically, you told me not to touch myself in the backroom of my office. And I didn’t,” you reply sweetly.
“You’re right, she is a brat,” Gregor giggles.
“Better a brat than an asshole,” you pant, ignoring how relieved you are to hear his ridiculous laugh again.
Gregor is completely unphased by your words, snickering as he climbs the ladder, leaning on the edge and looking over your body. “Good to see you too, Bolts,” he jeers, gripping your chin and kissing you. You dig your teeth into his lower lip defiantly, and he grunts. Chuckles gives an indignant huff, thrusting up into you slightly to remind you he’s still there. You squeeze him as hard as you can and he groans as you release Gregor.
“I still fucking hate you, but I’m glad you’re safe,” you mutter.
Gregor just winks at you.
“Out of the fighter, you two,” Crater growls. You playfully roll your eyes, but oblige. Chuckles gasps when his cock slips from you, still hard and now glistening from being inside of you.
“Sorry,” you whisper teasingly. “More where that came from though. Promise.” You kiss him again before readjusting your lingerie and climbing down the ladder, coming to stand in front of Crater. His eyes are practically glowing.
“Think you’re cute, don’t you?” he says quietly.
You shrug. “Like I said, didn’t technically disobey.”
His fingers reach out, toying with the charm between your breasts. “Well, we’ll see how long that technicality deprives you of an orgasm tonight.”
You shiver but try to keep yourself composed. “Chuckles, can you hand me down my suit and boots?”
The pilot goes to toss them to you, but Crater snatches them out of the air. “Oh no you don’t. You wanted to get out of your clothes so much, you can walk back to your office like that.”
You open your mouth to retort, and Crater raises his eyebrow in warning. You’ve come to recognize that look and all that it entails if you keep pushing your luck, so instead, you tuck your tongue in your cheek haughtily.
“Alright then.”
A/N: Part 4 soon... and it's gonna be another one over 10k words.
I’m back again 👀. Last one from me for this fabulous 400 followers celebration!! What aboutttttt Gregor + “I’ll take that bet”?
OK OK OK SO TJ I MADE IT REAL FILTHY I HOPE THAT'S OK. Also, since I am unable to help myself, I put all of my OCs from the 28th Combat Wing in there. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT!
Pairing: Gregor x f!Reader
Rating: E (18+ MINORS SKEEDADDLE - slight exhibitionism, fingering, implied PiV, language, Gregor's a menace)
The bass of the music in 79s was damn near deafening when you stepped inside the bar, immediately spotting the magenta and grey paint of the 28th Wing’s armor in their favored booth against the wall. What stood out more was the yellow hatch marked commando armor sitting amongst them.
Fucking Gregor. Dammit.
Maker alive, he was infuriating, but you weren’t about to let him ruin your night out. You had to cash out on all of the booze Chuckles owed you at some point, and he was so rarely planetside, your opportunities were limited. But why did it have to be the night that asshole of a commando was also around?
You’re not sure what exactly about Gregor gets under your skin. Maybe it’s his cocky smirk or his stupid hair or that ridiculous giggle that sounds like an inebriated fathier whinnying. Or maybe it’s the way he seems entirely unbothered by you. No matter what it is, Gregor’s got you figured and loves to dig his finger into that wound whenever he gets the chance. He’s already spotted you from across the room, raising an eyebrow as you start heading in his direction.
Not tonight, asshole.
You square your shoulders, swaying your hips a bit more than necessary. None of them have ever seen you out of your mechanic’s jumpsuit, and you’d picked your favorite (and only) dress for the occasion. After all, you deserved a little bit of attention. And maybe a good lay. If you could find one.
Gregor says nothing as he sips his beer, but his eyes never leave you, raking from your toes to your eyebrows as you nudge Chuck and slide into the booth next to him.
“I’m sorry, I’m saving this seat for some greasy mechanic I owe a few drinks to,” Chuckles teases.
“Oh, my apologies. Mind if I keep it warm until she gets here?” you joke back, playfully ruffling his mohawk, which is currently a deep purple color.
Crater rolls his eyes while Stones leans over, whispering that you look very nice, making you duck your head bashfully. Chuck flags down a waiter droid.
“What’ll it be, Bolts?” he asks, invoking the nickname he’d given you.”Just don’t break my non-existent bank account.”
“I’ll have a whiskey, please,” you request. Gregor raises an eyebrow again.
You feel annoyance tighten your chest. “What?” you ask.
He shrugs. “Just didn’t peg you for the whiskey type.”
“Oh, do enlighten me as to what type you thought I’d be, Captain.”
“Alright, alright, your seat’s not even warm yet,” Chuck mutters. He leans closer, speaking directly into your ear. “What is your damage with him?”
You sniff. “Nothin’. I just asked a question.”
Chuck rolls his eyes before sliding the whiskey in front of you. “Just drink this so you’ve got less of a stick up your ass.”
It doesn’t take too many whiskeys before you feel yourself start to relax, some of the tension leaving your shoulders. You laugh at Chuckles’s terrible jokes, chat with Crater about the last bolo ball game, and even get Sticks to come out of his shell a bit. The entire time, you notice Gregor’s stealing glances at you, and your confidence grows.
Let the bastard look.
You lean forward to take another sip of whatever drink Chuckles has ordered for you now. You let your cleavage rest on the table as your tongue wraps around the straw, pulling it between your lips. You glance up in time to see Gregor watching you over the rim of his glass. His eyes are on your breasts, but they quickly flick up to meet your gaze. You roll your eyes at his obvious leering, leaning back into the crook of Chuckles’s shoulder. He seems somewhat surprised, but doesn’t move to pull away. Gregor says nothing, but something in his eyes seems to flare for a moment.
You’re imagining things.
As the evening progresses, Crater graciously excuses himself to head back to the barracks and catch up on some reports. As soon as their commanding officer disappears, tongues loosen, and suddenly the conversation turns to romantic encounters. Unfortunately, the boys haven’t spent enough time planetside to rack up anything too salacious, so it isn’t long before you become the target of the conversation.
“C’mon, Bolts. What’s been your wildest night?”
“A lady never kisses and tells.”
“Who said anything about kissing?”
“And since when are you a lady?” You elbow Chuck for that comment, shooting him a glare.
“Oh, come on. There has to have been something that you’d consider memorable.”
You shrug. “Not lately.”
“No game or nothing worth writing home about?”
“You guys sure are nosey.”
“We’ve got to live vicariously through you, Bolts.”
You laugh, growing bolder as the liquor in your stomach warms you. “There was a guy a few weeks back. He did his best, and it was probably better sex than I’d had in a while, but that’s not saying much with the losing streak I’ve had going. Thinking of giving up and just going with the battery-powered lovers from here on out. At least then I get to finish.”
Stones groans in despair for your lackluster love life and Chuckles cackles loudly. “You sure do know how to pick ‘em, Bolts.”
You shrug. “It’s been a struggle.”
“Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places.”
Gregor had been quiet for the last little while, but that comment from him draws your attention. And your ire.
“And what would you know about making a woman cum, Captain?” you sneer.
He grins cheekily. “Plenty.”
“I bet you couldn’t make a woman orgasm if your life depended on it,” you bite back.
Gregor swirls his whiskey in the light, watching the legs of the liquid trail down the side of the glass.
“I’ll take that bet.”
Your eyes lock onto one another, and for reasons you can’t explain, you feel heat pool between your legs. You adjust in the booth, and while the others are guffawing about something else Chuckles said, Gregor notes the way your thighs rub together. He smirks, and you feel that anger flicker in your chest, along with something else. After another few minutes, you excuse yourself, unsure of where you’re heading.
Just need to get away from him for a minute.
Your feet carry you towards the back of the bar where it’s dark. You pass plenty of bodies pressed together, panting, sweating, and moaning in the darkness. Suddenly, you feel a hand in the small of your back, pressing you towards one unoccupied corner that’s far from any prying eyes. You whirl to find Gregor smirking down at you.
“I-I was looking for the ‘freshers,” you mutter.
“Now love, I don’t think that’s true at all,” he responds. “I think you were looking for trouble.”
You regain your bearings, scoffing at him as he backs you into the corner. You feel the heat grow between your legs, and you hate how your panties are sticking to you as he pins you against the wall, one arm braced against the wall. You jut your chin out defiantly.
“What do you want, Gregor?”
“Same thing as you.”
“And what’s that?”
He chuckles before leaning closer to you, his voice raspy in your ear. “To make you cum.”
You snort indignantly, but your legs are trembling.
“The question is,” he continues. “How best to make that happen? Are you one of those lovers that wants to be taken roughly, with me buried deep in that sopping cunt of yours while I hold a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet? Or do you need me to build you up more slowly, take my time until you fall apart?” His fingers trail up your thigh, slipping under the fabric of your dress before digging into your skin slightly. He presses forward, slotting a knee between your legs, and your breathing quickens. His eyes are watching you as his fingers find the hem of your panties on your hip, and he twists the string of delicate lace around his fingers.
“Now this feels like something you were hoping someone would take off of you tonight. That the case, love?”
You swallow hard.
“You want me to take these off of you?”
“No.”
He pulls his hand away immediately, clearly thinking he’s misread things, but you lock your fingers around his wrist. His eyes find yours in the dim lighting, the question in them apparent.
“I want you to make me cum with them on.”
His trademark smirk reappears, his fingers slipping back under your dress, drifting between your legs to press your clit through the thin fabric.
“All worked up just from thinking about me? You’re practically soaked,” he murmurs.
“You talk a lot,” you mutter.
He chuckles against your ear. “I think you like when I talk.” His fingers find the hem of your panties between your legs, and you feel him push the lacy fabric aside, tracing through your dripping folds. “I think you like hearing all the ways that I think about fucking you, and trust me, I’ve thought about it a lot.” His first finger finds its way inside you, and you gasp, hitching one leg over his hip as your hands fly to his shoulders to find purchase. Gregor’s watching you as your lips part, your head thunking back against the wall as he slips a second finger inside you.
“That’s it, love. Let go for me. Let me take care of you.”
“I really don’t like you,” you try to snap, but it comes out more of a whine.
He chuckles. “I think you want to dislike me, but that’s becoming more difficult.”
Your reply dies on your tongue, replaced by a gasp. His fingers are so thick and deliciously calloused. When they finally find that spongy place inside you, you dig your teeth into your lower lip to stifle a moan. He crowds you further against the wall, bearing down on that place inside you. “None of that now. Let me hear you.”
“Fuck you.”
“I might let you if you’re nicer,” he teases.
You dig your nails into the back of his neck, and he gasps lightly before he nudges the strap of your dress aside with his nose and bites down on the flesh of your shoulder. You groan out his name.
“Gregor.”
“That’s right. You like this, don’t you? Being back here where anyone could see you falling apart on my fingers. You want them to watch, hm? I could call the others over. Have them watch while you finally get what you deserve.” You whimper, clenching around his fingers as he slips a third one in. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? You’re filthy, love. Maybe another time. Right now, I want you all to myself.”
You’re practically riding his palm right now, the man you’ve hated for months, but Maker above, you’re not about to stop. The music is faint enough back in this corner that you can hear the obscene wet noises coming from between your legs. You’re both sweating, foreheads pressed together, panting in each other’s faces.
“Gregor, I’m close.”
“I know you are, love. Be good for me and soak my hand, yeah?”
You glare at him with heated eyes, mustering your last bit of defiance. “Make me.”
He sucks at the place just below your ear. “With pleasure.” With that, he presses against your clit with his thumb, circling slowly with just the perfect amount of pressure. You fly towards the edge and topple over, your vision whiting out as you cum hard. Gregor presses his mouth to yours, swallowing your scream, and you bite down on his bottom lip as you ride out your high. When the aftershocks have finally subsided, you slump against the wall as Gregor pulls his hand from between your legs, and he holds you up, resting his chin on your shoulder as he pants against your skin.
“I… still don’t like you.”
He chuckles. “Keep telling yourself that, love.”
When your breathing finally steadies and your legs become usable again, he stands back, watching you as you straighten. You try to recompose yourself, smoothing your hair, and he grins. You roll your eyes at him, and he chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear.
“Looks like I won that bet.” He kisses you on the cheek, which infuriatingly makes your face flush with heat. You glare at him as he turns to leave, but you grab his arm again.
His expression is puzzled, and you relish in it as you step closer to grip his rock-hard length on the outside of his pants, making him gasp. You whisper directly into his ear, ensuring only he’ll hear.
“Wait five minutes and then follow me outside. I’ll have a cab waiting.”
“What for?”
You kiss him, running your tongue over the inside of his lip before patting his cheek, enjoying the way he groans and the surprised look on his face.
“Double or nothing. But this time you can't use your fingers.”
A/N: This ficlet got re-written and turned into a multi-part VERY SMUTTY series you can find here: The Blitz Series
Thanks for participating in my 400 Follower Celebration!
I’ve been having thoughts about Crater (thank you for making me obsessed), which of course lead to thots because I’m only human. Which lead to some inspired questions for you @wild-karrde :
What would it take for Crater switch dynamics and sub for Bolts? Is it even in his nature?
Would he lose a bet, or would he go there to get out of his OWN head after a serious loss of a brother?
Would HE be a brat, or would he be the most obedient and intense sub ever??
OMG Karrde - fill my head with your thots on this man, because I know you are a bottomless fount of thots. 😘
HI HELLO YES OF COURSE I HAVE THEM. (And I shall put them under the cut since they are of the NSFW variety)
Warnings: dom/sub dynamics, oral sex
Crater's the type that doesn't necessarily prefer the sub role, but if Bolts asked, he'd be willing to try. It's not something he's used to doing; he's a captain, and that dynamic has always seemingly carried over to what his partners desire: someone to take charge of their pleasure. But he trusts Bolts, and if she's curious, he feels more than safe allowing her to explore that.
Especially after that moment where she put her hand on his throat. It sticks out in his mind, and he can't lie, it's piqued his curiosity a bit.
She starts slowly, feeling a little ridiculous. Of course, he can tell.
"Relax," he whispers. "Be confident."
She nods, digging her teeth into her lip as she glances over him. Hoping it'll spur her on, he strips out of every scrap of clothing and sinks to his knees in front of her.
He can see the shift in her almost immediately. Her shoulders square, and her eyes darken as she takes him in, waiting obediently.
"You're so pretty like this," she breathes. "On your knees for me." Her fingers trail through his hair, tracing down to his beard and along his jaw before she slips a finger under his chin, raising his eyes to hers. "You gonna be good for me, handsome?"
His cock twitches as his tongue darts out to wet his lips.
"So good," he promises, his low rasp carrying a plea.
"Lie back then," she coos.
He immediately obeys, an eagerness he's never felt coursing through him. Bolts kneels next to him, leaning down close enough to breathe on his cock, gently blowing on the tip, and Crater's hips jolt.
Bolts snickers before she nuzzles his hip, trailing the tip of her tongue along his Adonis belt. His hands fly to her hair out of instinct, but she catches his wrists, gripping them with surprising strength.
"No touching, sweet boy. Not until you've earned it."
There's no waver to her voice now, no doubt in herself. And Gods, if he doesn't find it attractive, to see her like this. Her eyes are practically glowing as she crawls towards his upper body, slipping her hand into his curls and pinning his head to the floor as she straddles his face. His fists clench at his sides and his cock begins to weep as he feels the heat radiating off of her core, hovering inches from his lips. He sees her clench and fights the urge to bury his tongue in her glistening cunt right then and there.
"I'm going to ride your face until you're drowning in me, and once I've had enough, I'll ride your cock until you cum. Got it?" she breathes.
His voice catches in his throat. The grip on his hair tightens, pain licking across his scalp deliciously.
He whines.
"Yes," he groans.
"Yes, what?"
"Yes, ma'am," he corrects himself. He can see her eagerness and her impatience in her eyes. He's counting on those factors to keep her from edging him for too long.
But either way, he wants what's coming next, more than he'd ever thought he would.
"Color?" she whispers.
"Green. Gods above, Bolts. Green."
Her lip curls into a smirk as she lowers herself onto his awaiting tongue.
