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Star Wars: Revelations: Crosshair x Ottehok

TCW Fanfic: Crosshair x Ottehok

Norsik Language is called Norslyr:

Ottehok- Shade in Russian

Forbandet Afkom- Cursed Offspring in Danish

Alfodr- Meaning All Father/Odin

Pabbi- Daddy in Icelandic

This is the first sexual encounter between these two characters in a series I am writing 

based on the aftermath of TCW.

WARNINGS:  NSFW, explicit 18+, cursing, P in V, protected sex, butt stuff, rough sex, gagging, slapping, pet names, male Dom, female Sub (kinda), allusion to past trauma. (Both individuals are slightly emotionally fractured, also the cleanest characters who have the nastiest sex;).  

4.3K word count.  

Crosshair x Ottehok

The Norse Executioner, Lone Ranger; Ottehok. A rather stunning peach colored Zebrak/Trandoshan female. The oracle of her field.  She must continue to slay Forbandet Afkom believed to be the blooded kin of the Goddess named Hel.  It has been said that Ranger, Ottehok; is the God Heimdall incarnate, the Great Watcher for Bjornheim.  She remains chained to the grounds of the spreading Ragnarok Ranges until the Afkom have been Cleansed from the terra. 

Crosshair demands to taste this caliber of woman.  

The Scourge Sniper, the Overwatch for his Troop, Crosshair.  A recognized Wingman; a Norse position given to the sharpest of Gunsmen.  Ottehok witnessed his capabilities when it came to the Cleanse of Thovid.  How he strangled a Zerbrak Cannibal with just his bare hands, smiling while doing so.  How he takes the rear path to watch over his Troop, hence Overwatch.  Unlike some members of his crew, he participated in the Cleansing of the cannibal younglins.  Did not hesitate, no remorse, delivered a swift and painless death upon them and moved on for that was the task that needed to be done.  

Crosshair’s actions reflect his forging, qualities Ottehok desires in a mate.  

But this encounter is not about love, affection, or breeding; this is about a deserved release.  A needed break from the ten-year expanse of isolation this woman has endured for the sake of her people.  Who either respect or reject her.  Either way she goes about her tasks, her way, the way that things need to be done for her people.  Her resolve is gleaming in her rust-colored eyes as she removes her helmet in front of Crosshair.  

In the hull of the Solar Scourge Ottehok places her helm on a crate alongside her pack.  Crosshair observes her motions as she reaches up and releases her pine green hair from a low bun and shakes her head.  He split tongue tasting the air.  He removes his helmet along with his gloves and meets her level of resolve as their lips collide.  

Crosshair dominates the kiss.  She desires pleasure from him, and he will deliver it to her, his way.  Her arms hook around his neck as they kiss.  She raises her height just an inch on the tips of her toes to reach his lips more comfortably.  Her hands glide through his soft hair while his graze along her sides to pull their midsections closer together.  The sounds of their armors rubbing against each other fills their ears.  Ottehok stands flat on her feet to break the kiss and take a breath.  Her hands sliding down his chest plate as her eyes stare up into his, admiring his stature.  His gaze is soft but not unguarded, attentive to all her movements, keeping wary of this Executioner.  But neutrality floods her gaze, a hand gently cups the right side of his face to feel the shadow of a beard and the bottom portion of his tattoo.  

Ottehok drops her guard entirely in this moment.

Crosshair slightly tilts his head into her touch.  Her fingerless gloves allow him to feel bits of her skin against him.  Ottehok begs for a break from everything for just this moment with her eyes.  But he wants to hear her ask for it.  

“What do you want?”  His voice a low rasp as his hands come around her waist to hold her close to him.  

“Your cock…”, her voice breaks with need as she continues.  “To writhe underneath you…marked by your teeth…to have every hole in me used by you.”  She finishes with her hand moving to cup his jaw with fingers parting his lips to inspect his perfectly aligned pearly whites.  He allows this touch to occur, far to used to being inspected in such a manner on Kamino.  Her hands trail down his chest plate with fingers grazing at his codpiece.  She knows well enough to wait for his permission to begin removing it for him.  

She knows what she wants.

Of all the remaining men on Norsik, this devout Pagan comes to surrender herself to an Off-Worlder.  Crosshair takes great consideration if he should indulge this woman.  This planet has rules that these people must follow or else his crew may be banished from the planet with the Norse participant being written off as a sacrifice to atone for their sins.  He must decipher if this woman is setting him up; thus, banning himself and his crew from this system that they helped liberate or if she really is just in need for a good thrashing.  He confirms that it is the latter as she removes her wrist comm and throwing her harness with holsters containing blasters and knives.  She is completely bare of any sort of possible recorders or weapons.  

Crosshair releases a chuckle as a hand comes up to brush a lock of hair behind her ear and swiftly takes her chin into his hand.  “Want to be used in any particular order?”  He purrs whilst stepping forward to press her back against a storage crate to box her in.  He makes it clear that he wants to absorb all her focus.  A knee rises between her legs to nudge at her core which she instinctively begins to grind upon.  

“I do not like a-t-m…”  She says shyly, batting her eyes up at him.  

“I wouldn’t do that to you…Peaches.”  Crosshair knows full well that Ottehok despises this nickname.  Anyone who mocks her with it ends up shot or wounded in some form or another by her hand.  It is always thrilling to witness her exact justice upon those who slight her or her comrades.  But in this instance, she bites her bottom lip and her fingers curl into the front of his chest plate to signal for undressing as her walls drip hot nectar at his voice using that name.  He drops his knee while their deft hands work away at their armor straps stripping to their under clothes.  “So begulling…”  He admires her body with a step backward to take in her full frame.  Ottehok stands at 6’1, slender build with divine muscle tone true to her Zebrak genetics.  She is quite the attractive creature through and through.  The Trandoshan heritage is identifiable with her eyes, voice, and tattoos which just add to her allure.  

Ottehok is the most unique being Crosshair has ever had the pleasure to work alongside.  

Crosshair aims to make her steady eyes roll into the back of her skull.  Maybe he can make her croak within the hull for all to hear.  Make them all hear how she likes to be used by an Off-Worlder; implying that this fornication is a testament to any men that hear their sex that Norsemen do not suffice to satisfy her.  The filthy things Ottehok craves from a man with the resolve to do it too her…  

Crosshair grabs a few condoms from a pack strapped to his armor and sets them atop a crate.  He leans back against a tall storage box with his arms folded across his chest, eyes fixated on Ottehok.  The lights are dim within the hull, he watches her from the surrounding darkness just outside the rim of light as she remains under a faint glow.  The shadows accentuate her womanly curves and brighten her peach-colored skin.  

“Strip.  Show me that pretty little peach of yours.”  He speaks with a smug smirk.  Ottehok gives him a show with bedroom eyes and a soft pouty look.  All being fueled by the ache between her legs.  She stands before him naked, taking it upon herself to follow his request to show him everything.  She hops onto a crate behind her and opens her legs, licking her fingers with her split tongue to spread her neatly tucked folds.  Crosshair is beyond pleased with the view.  

He inspects Ottehok further, he has been aware of her split tongue the first time she removed her helm to speak the night she had to explain the situation at the Ranges.  But now he can see everything.  Her nipples and navel are pierced, tattoos cover much of her body from her toes to her fingers reaching up to her neck.  Norslyr text etched into left side of her scalp that reads, ‘Take No Prisoners’ when her hair is arranged in fierce battle braids.  Her breasts are void of any ink; her solar plexus has an extremely detailed dagger pointed up towards her neck.  That is a very intense part of any anatomy to receive a blow let alone hours of ink.  His sights fall to the vivid red orange color of her pussy, the delicate skin there matches the color of her nipples and lips.  

Delicious.

Ottehok is built to endure the harshest of elements that Norsik has to offer.  Crosshair wants to see if she can withstand an element from the Void.  

Crosshair licks his lips and steps forward to place his skilled hands on her warm body.  They share a deep kiss before he breaks away and kneels to take in the sight of her peach.  His hands cup her breasts to tease her nipples as he dives in with his tongue to taste her decadent nectar.  She is touch starved, reacting to everything he does wherever his touch wanders.  The shivers he delivers through her body feel much like she was a virgin once more.  His tongue dips inside and then back to her clit spelling his name in Arubesh eliciting the lewdest of noises a woman can make.  Ottehok falls backward while gripping at his hands and hair.  He adds a finger and pumps it a few times before adding a second as her peach floods with juice mixed with his saliva.  

“Pabbi!”  She whines as her back arches off the crate and her legs begin to tense.  He rises to look her over, watching her orgasm erupt through her body as he keeps the pace with his fingers to thoroughly work her through it.  Her feet find purchase on the edge of the crate with her eyes glued shut as the comets stream across her vision.  His pace quickens and he angles his precise fingers to rub that special little spot inside her which forces her peach to overflow with sweet nectar onto the floor.  Crosshair removes his fingers and shoves them in her mouth as she tries to catch her breath.  

“What did you say?”  He asks near her ear then bites her neck.  She winces but gives her response through the action.

“Pabbi…daddy…”  Tears leave the corners of her eyes as he looks down upon her and removes his fingers from her mouth.  He licks away the streaks with a pleasant hum.

“Mm, I like that.  Call me pabbi or sir from now on, understand Peaches?”  Her body tremors at the pet name, from now on Crosshair is the only one allowed to call her that.  She nods and sits up to meet his lips again but he stops her with a hand to her shoulder.  “And… you need to ask for my permission to cum.”  Her lust filled gaze diminishes and she cups his jaw with knit brows.  

“I will play the name game, swallow your fluids, take your punishments.  But I will never ask for permission for my own orgasms.  Sir.”  This is the most she has ever really spoken to Crosshair in Arubesh, she is improving.  

“So, you are not going to comply?”  His eyes narrow with a sharp edge but Ottehok sneers and pushes him back for her own space.  She hops off the crate and nearly topples over as her legs are still shaking from her orgasm.  She bites her cheek to force herself to stand up as to not appear weak in front of him any longer.  Crosshair’s cock is a painful throbbing rod that is clearly visible to both people.  But now she has apparently received enough of a release to tap out, leaving him out to dry.  Crosshair is flooded with dangerous emotions, things he shouldn’t be feeling or thinking of.  

“You have no jurisdiction over me Voider.  This is my terra, my body.  We can continue but as I submit to you, I expect for you to make me cum.  As much as I want, as much as you can make me, and I do the same for you.”  Her trigger finger jabs into his chest with every point she makes, wearing a scowl that equally rivals his own.  “The hunt for orgasm is what keeps me submissive, Wingman.”  She finishes and crosses her arms with a face of determination he recognizes from her 116,400 hours of footage while in the Ranges when fighting Afkom.  Ottehok views Crosshair as a predator invading her hovel; a man pushing a set boundary.  Too not be snuffed he must respect her grounds.  

Crosshair sighs and his lip twitches for a second as if he had a toothpick between his lips.  “Very well.”  He acknowledges her terms and steps forward and places his hands on her shoulders.  He peers down at her with a softened gaze fixated on her stern look.  He wants to melt that look away and replace it with the face she had earlier when she was unraveling on his fingers.  “I will make you erupt with pleasure my sweet peach.  I just like to hear you beg for it…”  He admits lowly and kisses her forehead.  Her arms drop to his waist band pulling him flush against her as they embrace for this moment between them.  

“I can beg, sir.  I promise you; I will beg…”  Her sultry tone is silenced with a deep kiss and his cock is freed against her stomach.  She pulls up the hem of his undershirt and he removes it while her hands run down his body as she drops to her knees to pull his bottoms down to strip him naked with her.  

A hand strokes his shaft while the other cups his balls.  Her mouth laps at the bead of precum at the tip and her split tongue runs over his frenulum in a widely new sensation that forces a shallow groan to leave his chest.  Both hands fist her hair and has her mouth all to himself now.  She can take most of him in her throat, a hand comes to rest on his hip to push against it when he tries to get the last few inches inside her mouth.  Her eyes are wide with tears in the corner which is an erotic sight to Crosshair.  The sloppy gagging noises she makes fill the hull.  He continues to fuck her throat by just having his hands bob her head, if he were to start thrusting his hips, he’d most likely cum too soon.  

“Suck me harder…”  he coos brushing hair from her eyes so she can clearly look at him from below.  Messy noises come from her as she gags, bile comes up to coat his cock and down the front of her body and onto the floor.  He pulls her off with a click of his tongue and she coughs for air.  “You just love making messes, don’t you?”.  He says taking a fistful of hair to pull her up to her feet and guiding her back to the crate she was on earlier.  

“Always…p-pabbi…I’m sorry…”  She wipes her mouth with the back of a hand as he lifts her onto the crate to spread her legs.  She is soaking wet all the way down her legs, just a complete mess that this Clone Commander must clean up after they are done here.  Crosshair grabs a condom and rolls it on, he quickly glazes his cock in her nectar placing the head at her opening.  Before he plunges inside he anchors her down with a firm grip to her neck.  She replies with a devious smile and a pleading glint.  He smiles and gently pushes inside her in a fluid motion that has Ottehok moaning like a whore.  

Her toes curl, her eyes darken and squeeze tight, she nearly screams when he pulls back and thrusts back in a few times to penetrate her more deeply.  She is unbelievably tight, very closely to the feeling when she was a virgin and being…used…by members of Irrek Hall when she was young.  The very blistering pain of those memories that she has buried for so long come welling up and she starts to cry.  It is unnerving to Crosshair; he releases her throat and almost pulls out when she grasps his shoulder to stop him.

“No!  No please!  Please pabbi- Crosshair!  Don’t stop…”  While sobbing.  “I need this…”  

“Gah fine!  Just take it like this then!”  He berates impatiently and flips her onto her stomach to pound her from behind.  “But if it becomes too much you better say something or I will just keep going, understood?”  Ottehok nods her head wiping her nose with her hand as he bares down inside her mercilessly.  His hips snapping into her ass to make up for the loss of her warmth for those few seconds.  He grunts into her ear, her back arching whilst continuing to cry.  This feeling much better than all the past times, his girth stretching her open, length piercing her deeply, slapping her ass with an exciting ferocity that makes her cunt twitch around him.  Crosshair bends forward and hooks an arm around her neck to choke her in a new fashion.  His mouth nips at her ear, his grunts filling her canal as his cock fills her pussy like no Norseman has ever done before.  His hand comes to cover her mouth with his precise fingers covering her nose as he flexes his arm around her neck to near suffocation.  

One of her hands comes to his that is cupped to her face and the other slams the top of the crate to signal for air.  His fingers lift off from her nose and mouth, but his palm still presses to her cheek.  When he feels she’s caught enough air his fingers return to smother her again.  His fingers dive into her mouth to slicken them up for his next approach.  He pulls off her back releasing her from his grip and looks down at her round little ass.  His trigger finger pokes into her anus.  Her head pops up from the crate and she props her upper body up on her forearms and the back of her head is met with his left hand which forces her forehead to the crate.  Then he slides the rest of his long slender finger into her ass.  Her walls clench around his cock, triggering another eruption of nectar to spill from her splitting peach.  

“Such a dirty girl…”  He growls as she comes undone.  Her legs close together and with a disapproving click of his tongue Crosshair forces her legs apart with his feet and quickens his movements in her ass.  He drips a clear strand of saliva from his mouth to coat her anus to keep it lubricated for easier pleasure.  He fucks her again through another orgasm, Ottehok sobs and whines underneath Crosshair.  Her arms reach out to grasp the edge of the crate to anchor herself down as her stomach keeps rubbing against the rough surface of the crate in an uncomfortable manner.  Crosshair adds his middle finger to her ass as she begins to quiver around his cock, he needs to relax her.  He pulls himself out of her entirely, his arms wrap around her hips to lift her off the crate and lay her on the floor.  He rolls her onto her side, he comes to her back to take her from behind.  She purses her lips wanting a kiss which he obliges, then nudges her ass with the head of his cock.  Her hand grips his thigh as she takes him in, he nips at her ear and buries his face in her hair while slowly pushing his way into her tight cavity.  His hands roam her body to grasp her nipples and gently roll the nubs to stimulate her.  Ottehok feels like her body is burning, she is no longer crying now.  Crosshair has fucked the memories out of her mind for good.  Using every part of her like this, it is what she needed to forget the past.  She knows that she has control over her body, her own pleasure, how she needs it to be.  Her skills and what she has done for herself have afforded her the respect necessary to get what she wants, who is going to refuse an Executioner?  

No one.

Crosshair pushes in slowly; he makes it halfway in before she winces, nails dig into his thigh eliciting a slap to her face to ease the digging.  He quickly cups her throat to choke her and pulls back and thrusts back in trying to get deeper before a choked croak ripples through the column of her neck.  Her hips jerk away but he follows her movement to remain inside her and he ends up rolling on top of her to pin her down.  

“Too much!  Ah too much pabbi!”  She gasps out.  

“Then hold still and let me find a balance for us both!”  He shouts over her cries.

Crosshair rolls off her and back on to their sides.  His hands grasp her hips to keep her in place and his tongue trails up her neck.  He lightly bounces his cock inside her ass with half the length in.  It is warm with much more pressure around his cock than her pussy.  It is much easier to slide in and out of her pussy than her ass, but it feels great nonetheless.  “H-how does this feel Peaches?  Is this good?”  He asks trying not to sound like a little boy about to burst for the first time.  He’s never had the opportunity to try anal, he’s played with ass before but never got to penetrate it with his cock.  

Ottehok releases a beautiful sound from her chest as his cock splits her ass in two.  It begins to feel so pleasurable that he can start moving deeper inside as she relaxes with this gentler pace.  Quick and shallow, equivalent to rabbits.  Crosshair sees a smile spread across her face with a pink hue glowing on her cheeks.  She looks delighted.  

“I’m going to cum again, sir…”  She moans as a hand comes down to play with her clit.  He swats her hand away to take over for her, rubbing tight fast circles on her clit as she bucks forward from the quick stimulation.  

“Mm ahhh!  Slowly please pabbi!  Slowly…”  She ends her sentence with a shush while guiding his fingers to the rate of speed that she wants.  Her ass relaxes and she can take his entire cock now with ease.  Her moans grow in volume as she experiences yet another explosive orgasm from her ass this time.  

“Are you cumming?”  

“Ja!”

“From your ass?”  His voice a smooth husky tone.  

“Ja ja!  From your cock sir!  Alfodr!”

“Oh Peaches…”  His final words before she lets out an arousing croak while her ass contracts around his sheathed mass.  Her eyes roll into the back of her cranium as her core gushes with emanation.  He works her through it again followed by pulling out of her as she lays there seeing comets burning through atmospheres.  He rolls the condom off and sticks himself back into her ass with a few more pumps sending devastating aftershocks through her writhing body.  He bites her shoulder with a grip around her throat making her release choked gasps as his cock twitches, spewing hot molten cum inside of her.  

Ottehok reaches back over her shoulder to caress the heaving man behind her.  Arms gripping around her like a vice.  Cock softening inside her ass.  His eyes open to look at her, his arms lessen their grip, and she moves to separate from him.  They pick themselves off the ground to sit on an elongated crate on the floor.  Ottehok feels comfortable enough to lean against Crosshair’s shoulder, to reciprocate the closeness he rests his chin on her head.  Naturally they both scan the area around them to see if anyone had snuck in to watch them.  

Crosshair’s post nut clarity kicks in and he moves to stand first which he does with ease after only cumming once.  Ottehok remains seated, panting by herself as Crosshair begins to redress in his blacks and gathering her under clothes to bring to her on the crate.  

“We should shower.”  He says first to break the silence.  

“You can.  I must start my trek back to the Ranges.”  She says pulling her clothes back on.  

“You can’t be serious.”  He stops all movement to gawk at her ridiculous statement.  

“Ja.”  She nods and moves to pick at pieces of her armor.  

“You are going to start your trek…a fourteen-rotation journey back to the Ranges like this?  A complete filthy wreck.”  He folds his arms looking down at her from above.  

She looks up at him with a cocked brow,

” Ja.  This is my penance for taking an extra day for myself.  I should have left yesterday immediately after Phara was put down.”  She breaks eye contact to strap her plates on with more focus.  Crosshair just stares, baffled by her resolve and the sudden realization that she just used him to punish herself for selfishness, if it can even be called that.  From her decade in the Ranges, to the March to Cleanse Thovid and the March back to Bjornheim, then the Liberation of Bjornheim…just to take twenty-four hours for herself to rest, eat, and be fucked before trekking back to that Helscape.  

Kriffing Norse.

oh right i make edits

The way Hunter aims here

(Gif by @kamino-coruscant )

It reminds me of this...

(Gif by @fangirl-goes-nova )

The way Crosshair does it is more pronounced but both use their arms to steady their aims.

DAMN RIGHT

Ahsoka Tano is a six foot two carnivorous space ninja with magic powers. She’s a horned, fanged super-spy who’s been fighting in wars from the frontlines since she was a preteen. It’s always a good day to remember that at sixteen Ahsoka Tano decapitated four full grown Mandalorian warriors; that she fought General Grievous, bested Darth Maul in single combat, evaded and sabotaged the Empire for decades, travelled through time, and may or may not be a deity of the Force. That she survived the annihilation of her people and walked away with kindness and compassion in her heart. What I’m getting at is that Ahsoka Tano, both immovable object and unstoppable force, is a gods-damned hurricane, a Valkyrie with two laser swords and a cocky smile, and if she does show up in live action they’d better well appreciate her.

Star Wars: Revelations Tech x Natelyte

Now Revised

This is the first sexual encounter between these two characters in a series I am writing based on the aftermath of TCW.

I revised this encounter because after re-reading it a few weeks later it did not capture the vision that I have for the start of their romantic relationship.  

WARNINGS: Rated MA +18, Explicit, NSFW, P in V sex, protected sex, during office hours, Auralism (sound kink), recorded encounter, feelings.  

5K Words.

Norslyr Translations

Sonval: Sun drop in Afrikaans

Sonskyn:  Sunshine in Afrikaans

Lokacinka: your turn – Hausa

taa ya nyota: starlight – Swahili

Zub da hasken rana a cikina: Pour your sun flares into me - Hausa

Haskaka ni da farin dodo: Spark me with a white dwarf (baby) – Hausa

Gee nog een uitbarsting my sonskyn:  Give one more eruption my sunshine – Afrikaans

Star Wars: Revelations: Tech x Natelyte

Tech turns on his helmet audio function to listen to Natelyte’s special recording.  The audio is Natelyte masturbating, moaning, and whining his name as she uses a high-powered vibrator on herself.  

“Tech...!”  She whimpers.  His eyes widen at the sound of her voice calling his name.  This recording was unexpected, it appeared in his room upon the Solar Scourge before leaving to complete a job.  Tech knew well enough to listen to the audio in private in case it was something meant just for him.  Nat’s voice breaks again as she nears release.  

Tech checks over his shoulder to confirm the door is locked and proceeds to remove his cod piece.  He takes it a step further and removes all his armor except his helmet, he lays out on his bed. He pulls up innocent images of Natelyte on his screen to look at as he strokes himself.  Tech isn’t one to take this kind of time to himself while on a job; but the crew are already on their way to return to Norsik.  He isn’t going to be needed anytime soon.  Tech let’s out a groan at the lack of fluid friction he could do to himself alone.  He grabs a sock from his bed side and slicks his cock with lube and proceeds to jerk himself with the sock around it.  The vibrator takes on more of the volume in the background of Nat’s whimpering.  Tech begins to visualize how she does it to herself, just from this audio clip alone he can deduce that Natelyte is more about clitoral stimulation than penetration.  

“Make you...cum on my piece...”.   He goes on babbling about all the dirty things he wants to do to Nat.  

“Nat...!”  He yelps at the violent ejaculation that glazes the inside of the sock.  Feeling himself need more of her to get his nerves right he continues listening to Nat.  Her voice breaking in high pitches that he has never heard her voice achieve before, at least not around him.  

“Tech.!  Oh, I miss you already.”  She coos, he can envision the devious smile on her lips.  Then she orgasms whining his name.  He sits up tossing the sock to the floor.  

“She’s so enthralling”. He sighs still thinking about Natelyte.  All the things he wants to do with her...and too her.  Thinking of the moans and whines she let out while calling his name, the actions she took to make this for him.  It all started so innocently, she is making it clear that she’s not teasing anymore, she wants Tech.  

Both of these geniuses make a schedule nearly every morning to let the others know when and where they will be throughout the day so if and when anyone needs their help, they can always find them based on the schedule.  When they put it together that they both do this type of time management technique they began to plan their days to intersect every now and then just to get some time to work together, take breaks that overlap with one another’s time. Then one day, Tech cleared his schedule and he sent just ‘Natelyte’ for the whole day, to not only her but to everyone in the crew.  When she saw this, she too just wiped the day away and plastered Tech’s name across the planner and they went out together for the day doing fun things instead of work.  Then this job came up a few weeks later and he had to go with the Scourgemen, she slipped this audio recording in his room before they departed.  Now he isn’t going to hold back what he wants to do with her.  Natelyte is a beautiful and intelligent woman, a rebellious danger, something he admires most about her.  The ship came out of hyperspace, Tech redresses and went out to the bridge.  The crew is eager to get back to the surface to see their perspective counter parts.  None of the women came along for this delivery job, it wasn’t out of disinterest, they just have much more pressing matters that require their presence to maintain at present.  Hunter walks out onto the bridge to oversee the dissent to the surface being performed by Wolffe.  He looks Tech up and down with a sly grin and a raised eyebrow, knowing full well that Tech is a horny little bastard right now.  Tech shrugs the look off, at least he is getting something from his girl.  

The crew land at the platform and Tech was off the ship and dashing towards Natelyte’s office building.  Assuming she would be walking from that direction, he turns a corner and there she is.  Her face brightens with a smile to see him alive and in one piece.  They briskly walk towards each other and embraced.  Their armors clad against each other couldn’t stop the feeling of the other’s warmth.  

“I listened to your message.”  He says with a soft smile.  

“Oh ja?  Did you enjoy it my sonval?”  She asks and leans into him with her breast plate more against his chest plate.  His hands move further down her back to hold her more closely.  

“I loved it so much that I want to participate with you my sonskyn.”  He rasps lowly in her ear and nibbles at her lobe, wasting no time as always.  Nat breaks away from him still grasping his hand to walk to her office together.  They continue to converse about the job he returned from and high lights of events happening on Norsik.  

Her office is open and organized, Nat closes the door behind her and activates the glass clouding feature so no one can see through the glass.  Tech steps forward and cups Natelyte’s face, their eyes transfix on each other searching for the next move.  Nat takes notice of Tech’s posture, now straightened and taller due to the posture correction patch Ottehok slapped between his shoulder blades to correct his hunching.  Their lips connect, her arms wrap around his neck, she introduces her tongue into the mix and Tech hums with delight.  Tech steps forward to press Nat to the glass wall and the kiss deepens, their heat begins to overtake their minds, instinct begins to override logic and focus.  

Heat swells like a roaring star.  

“Tech….”  Natelyte moans when their lip’s part for just a moment.  Her lust lidded hazel orbs focus on his wide brown irises shielded by his specs.  “We should move from the glass.  I heard someone enter the lab.  People can see our figures against the glass wall…”  She speaks with a reluctant smile.  She did not want to pause in the moment, but privacy is priority in regard to this encounter.  

He is a Voider after all.

“Ah well, to your nook then?”  He smirks and pushes his frames up his bridge.  He takes a few steps back to get distance from the glass.  The disinterested look in Natelyte’s eyes is quickly noticed by Tech.  He comes forward to take one of her hands to spin her around the space between them, so her bottom is pressed against a desk that was behind Tech.  “Or I should we continue right here?”  He queries in her ear with his crotch piece pressing against her apex.  

“Ja right here, sonval.”  She mewls as he nips at exposed flesh on her neck.  His hands come down to her thighs to lift her onto the desk.  Her hands push aside monitors and a keyboard to make room for their encounter on the desk’s surface.  Teck kicks away a swivel chair just a foot away from their coupling.  “I’ve always wanted to be taken in this office.”  She lets out as Tech sucks away at her neck leaving hickies carelessly across her supple flesh.  “To be railed by a man of your faculty.”  

“You give me too much credit my taa ya nyota.”  He smiles as his hands come down to unhook his utility harness and comm link.  Nat follows suit and begins to unclasp her armor plating.  They strip down to their under clothes and eagerly entangle once more to explore each other’s forms.  

Natelyte’s full feminine curves draw the attention of his hands immediately.  First her thighs to then fearlessly cupping her breasts.  Her hands roam over his upper body memorizing every muscle groove, feeling his solid frame tensing beneath her touch, she catches notice of his flushed complexion, how pink his ears get when he blushes, it’s adorable.  He is touch starved, ravenous for physical contact of any manner possible, his throbbing member sandwiched between both their thighs is evidence of his physical needs.  His unbashful expression to her acknowledgement of his arousal has him take a moment and clear his throat.  

“Ahem.  With your permission Natelyte, I would like to record our coitus?”  His query is collected and serious.  She knows damn well that Tech exhibits Auralism; where one is aroused by sound; not that just any sound arouses him of course, but just the sounds that he desires to hear when in need.  Hence why he has a habit of recording nearly everything; he does it for his own reasons, from safety to necessity for assignments, for proof or for study.  But of course anything remotely having to do with sex, you best bet it will grab his attention for a moment before he remembers his surroundings and task at hand.  Nat knows all too well he is not referring to just audio recording their encounter, he will be recording everything.  

“Ja, the more angles the better actually.”  She halts her movements across his body and reaches back behind herself to activate a monitor.  Tech’s eyes narrow in bewilderment before she speaks again.  “I can capture more than just the angle of your frames.”  She speaks in a low sultry tone that rivets in his ear canal sending shivers down his spine and goosebumps to rise across his body.  She opens an application that allows her to wake all of the surrounding monitors in the office, activating a recording feature.  The cameras all blink with a red light signaling the start of their first coitus session.  Tech stares in awe at Natelyte’s expanded reach into this kink, and his cock throbs with gratitude.  “Perspective on all sides…”  her tongue slips into an ear, her hands return to his body with a fiery intensity making Tech’s knees weak.  His fingers brush along his goggles to begin recording their steamy encounter, and for Tech to get to work on his sonskyn.   

“May we disrobe?”  Nat nods and lifts the hem of his shirt first; she wants to see what this Techno Master looks like underneath everything.  She is not disappointed.  Tech is sporting a healthy muscle tone, a cog and skull tattoo on a shoulder and left pectoral muscle, several others accented with blaster scars and a stunning set of abs that has Nat bite her bottom lip in arousing admiration of Tech’s physique.  Tech’s hands come back to Nat’s body, he lifts off her shirt and pulls down her pants, panties, and socks.  His darkened brown eyes scan across her chestnut skin, her red curls complement the flecks of green in her brown pools.  Navy blue and crimson red runes line across her body, markings of achievements and lessons she has mastered throughout her life.  Her body is a sculpted masterpiece, Tech is far from being a religious man, but he’d be dammed it he didn’t want to worship the ground that this woman walks upon.  

He worships her in a different manner.  

Tech lifts her left foot into his mouth, slipping her toes between his lips, his tongue sweeping between her toes.  Nat slips onto her elbows to watch Tech do his thing.  He sucks on her big toe and releases it with a pop.  

“That was really nice.”  Nat says with a pleasant smile.  

“Your clitoris looks much nicer…”  Tech purrs planting a kiss to her lips first to then trail down her body.  Kissing each dark nipple, her pierced naval, down to her darkly pigmented clitoris.  Spreading her opening with his thumbs he inspects her coloring; it becomes pinker towards the center, her skin is smooth and tender, with arousal dripping from her.  His hands glide along her thighs, his warm breath fans over her apex, he witnesses her opening contract, the slit rising and falling in a slow motion, his places a slow wet kiss to her button.  Nat’s head falls back, she lowers from her elbows, to lay flat on the desk, she props her legs wide on the desktop.  His hands come up to her torso, pinching and rolling her nipples with his skilled fingers, burring his face between her legs focusing all of his affections on her clitoris.  Slow and featherlight ministrations, spelling his name and number in her folds, drawing all the sinful noises from Nat.

“Aw jaaa…”  She drabbles on babbling words in Norslyr, pleading for Tech to go just a tad lighter when pressing onto her clit.  His hands freely graze along her body, memorizing her form, her curves, down to the last scar.  Heat begins to form in her core, quickly building from Tech’s touching.  She takes one of his hands and sucks on the fingers, drenching the digits with her saliva for her own benefit.  Tech knows exactly what she wants him to do now, and he does it when she releases his fingers.  He fills her opening with one finger with a few pumps for her to adjust, to measure her readiness, and then he adds the second and her moans grow louder.  With raised brows he looks over his shoulder to look at the door, but what does looking at the door solve?  So he reaches up and covers her mouth to hush her lewd noises from prying ears.  Natelyte giggles and sucks on his fingers again whilst hooking a leg over his shoulder to lock his mouth back onto her clit.  “No one can hear us.  Not behind this glass.  I promise...!”  She sucks in air through her teeth and lets out a choked cry, her hips buck against his face.  Nat stands to her feet with Tech plastered against her clit from below.  His brown orbs open wide to take in the sight of her standing over him, hands fisting his hair to pull him into her with more pressure as his mouth opens wide to swallow her pussy.  She pulls on his hair from side to side to have his mouth swipe her opening, his hands come to her ass to hold himself steady on his knees.  Then she gushes with slick from above and he gulps down every last drop like a parched man drinking from a spring.  

The light of the amber screens drapes her body in a golden light personifying her as the physical embodiment of solar radiance.  

Nat’s legs shake, Tech’s strong hands support her at her rump, he pants for air and rises to his feet to seal their lips together.  Tongues dance frantically as she takes in her own taste glistening across Tech’s face.  

“That was an exquisite view, Nat.”  

“Lokacinka.”  She says breathlessly and pushes him down into the swivel chair behind him.  Tech scans the monitors around the room, he rolls the chair pushing with his heels to the center of the room, so each screen has an angle on them both.  Nat smiles with his attention to detail, but now she wants all his focus again on her instead of the technology around them both.  

All.  On.  Her.

Nat crawls between his legs and rubs his clothed bulge straining to be set loose from its prison.  The heat radiating from his crotch is intoxicating, drawing her in, mouth pooling with saliva, with want.  “Take this off.”  She pats his thighs and Tech stands before her and peels off his blacks.  Tech catches this next moment on his lenses, Nat’s eyes wide with shock, and an ambitious smile spreads across her face taking in the sight of Tech’s massive cock.  The veins raised almost perceived as being angry, but Tech is far from any sort of antagonized emotion.  His cock twitches at the first sight of Nat’s tongue darting out to swipe across her lips.  She presses his thighs for him to sit back down in the chair

“Are you hungry my sweet?”  Tech rasps as his hands find purchase in Nat’s thick curls.  

“Ravenous.”  She sighs and wastes no time in drooling over his cock.  She pumps him a few times, feeling the girth, watching a bead of hot precum spill from the tip down the shaft to mix with her saliva to be smear by her chestnut hands along his tan meat.  Sweet soft sighs leave Tech’s chest.  She brings the hot tip to her plump lips and kisses it a few times.  Dragging her lips down the shaft, licking her way back to the tip, slipping it between her lips for her tongue to swirl around the head.  Tasting his early seed and the salt of his skin.  

“Please…”

“Hmm?”  She hums with a full mouth sending vibrations around his solid member making his toes curl at the sensation.  

“Please be sloppy.  Make it loud and messy ta ya nyota.”  His grip tightens in her hair.  Nat knows what he wants, how he wants it, and she will do it only for him.  Nat chuckles with him in her mouth and she slides down his shaft swallowing him whole.  

Natelyte can deep throat.

Tech’s eyes fixate on her motions.  Her head bobbing up and down to suck him from tip to base, nose pressing to his pubic bone, throat expanding and contracting around his cock.  She gags and coughs while still managing to keep him stuffed inside.  She slurps and sucks loudly, her tongue swirls around the head and base.  She has his tip hit the back of her throat; she opens her mouth wider to let the wet sloshing sounds of her throat to echo within the room and fill his ears.

And for the cameras to hear.

Tears fall from the corners of her eyes; Tech pulls her hair to have her face look up at him, snot drips from her nostrils.  He can feel her swallow, it causes her to cough, she pulls off him, so she does not bite him.  As she coughs Tech stands up and takes her hand to have her sit on the desktop again, he separates from her as she wipes her eyes and nose.  Tech reaches down to pick and open a condom from a pocket of his belt and rolls it on.  Natelyte watches him do this and the puzzled look on her face has him smile in slight embarrassment.  

“Is that the fabled con-dom I’ve been hearing about from you Voiders?”  She smiles bringing a hand down to his now covered member to feel the rubbery barrier for herself.

“It is not a fable if it is real, my sweet.”  He smiles whilst cupping her face and kissing her deeply to commend her erotic blowjob.  

“What is a con-dom?”  Her accent while speaking Arubesh made it hard to speak that unfamiliar word.  

“It is a thin latex polyurethane barrier that goes on a male’s member to capture the sperm.”  He smiles at her with a flushed expression.  Drunk with need.  Burning with desire.  Yearning for release.  

“Oh…will it...still feel the same or?”  

“Yes, yes it will still feel the same for you.  I will lose much of the sensation, but it is worth it.  I wouldn’t want to risk impregnating you, Natelyte.”  Their foreheads pressing together, staring into each other’s eyes with understanding and adoration.  

“I could take my own protection.  An after pill.  That way you don’t need to miss out…”  She says pumping his shielded cock, gathering the strange lubricant that covers the outside.  

Tech wants to, he wants to feel her from the inside, her hot moist walls clenching around his throbbing mass.  But he cannot.  He must do it this way, he cannot risk the possibility of spreading his genes among the Norsik population, not even if it is with Natelyte.  

He just can’t.  

Nat sees his internal confliction, then his resolve as he clenches his jaw and lines himself up with her entrance.  Pumping himself and coating his cock with her juices.  “I want to, but I cannot.”  He says and cuts off any more of her pleas as he plunges inside her warm depths.  A loud moan escapes her chest as Tech thrusts inside her a few more times to sheath his piece within her, coating every last inch he has to give with her slick.  Then he holds himself still to look upon Nat, to see her already ruined around him.  Her legs wrap around his waist, her arms tighten around his shoulders, head buried in the crook of his neck groaning from the stretching pleasure of his cock.  

“You feel so good sonskyn.”  He purrs in her ear and begins moving a fast pace.  Every time he bottoms out inside her a beautiful gasp leaves her chest.  The sting of her nails digging into his broad shoulders fuels his need to fuck her harder.  Demanding that he fuck her hard as to wash away her previous thought of the barrier affecting her end of the pleasure between them.  His pleasure is surely dulled, but he uses that dullness as an advantage to last longer.  To fuck her for all that she is worth here and now.

Nat’s heels dig into his lower back, her breathing is ragged, she peels an arm from around his shoulder to vigorously rub her clit.  Tech growls at this action and replaces her hand with his own thumb.  She mewls at the harshness of his touch, she lays flat against the table, her breasts bounce in rhythm of his thrusts.  The monitors all shifting from the weight of his pounding, moving their angles around without touching them, it’s maddening.  

“Don’t stop!”  She cries out as her legs begin to tense around him.  Her hands come down to grasp his forearms to anchor herself to him.  Tech leans back with their arms locked together to press as deep as he can reach within her.  And she cums with a mighty cry as a wave of the most intense internal orgasm crashes within her.  Tech fucks her through it, unable to yield to his better judgement to slow down or cease his movements to allow her to settle once more.  He presses on, heeding her command, doing what she says, what she wants, he’ll do anything, everything for Natelyte’s pleasure.  

She deserves the stars.

Nat’s legs go limp around his waist, his arms release hers and return to the underside of her thighs to keep her legs at his sides.  Her eyes return from the back of her skull and come to refocus on the man fucking her into oblivion.  The aftershocks of electricity brought on by his unyielding movements makes her back arch and body jolt.  She whines his name and praises, how perfect he is, what he does to her, and how he keeps fucking her with a pleasant ferocity.  Her body returns to be flush against him, her hands combing through his hair, licking his neck, biting along his structures, marking him in the same careless manner he had done to her in the beginning.  He lets out sweet moans and sighs at her efforts.  Then Nat pulls herself close to his ear and speaks in a complete wrecked manner that has him obey every next word.  

“Sit in the chair and let me ride you like a wild Scorp.”  

Tech pulls from her and finds his place in the swivel chair quickly to be mounted by Natelyte’s thick thighs.  Her body is so soft and supple, covered in a sheen of sweat that has her glowing in the amber light of the screens.  She lines herself up and sinks down on him quickly to regain the fullness that he fulfills within her.  Tech can feel her entire body working on top of him, all of her weight, her skin, her scent, her muscles.  

“Da rana!  Zub da hasken rana a cikina!  Haskaka ni da farin dodo!”  Nat shouts like a battle cry.  Her movements are rocking the chair, making it squeak with every harsh landing of her hips against his.  The chair begins to feel as though it may break from their use of it.  Tech hopes that it does, all for that camera value.  How hard she can fuck him in return.   Her walls clench around him, her nails dig deeply into his shoulders to then release him and run her hands through her hair.  She leans back to give Tech a full view of the goddess riding him as she takes another orgasm for herself.

“Cum my darling.  Cum all over my cock again.  Take it all for yourself!”  he babbles.  His hands gripping her sides to support her as her bounces begin to become uneven and ill timed.  The tight coil within her snaps and her walls quiver around his shielded cock again.  This time she stops to take it all in, lifting her feet from the ground to have all her weight fully bare down on Tech which he handles with ease.  She sobs into his neck, holding her he stands with her in his grasp to lay on the floor, this will be his last bout, he is nearing his own limit now and wants to ejaculate while drowning in her hazel pools.  In missionary he begins to move slowly, pumping in and out from tip to base, scooping her out with his cock.  Her back arches from the tender aftershocks that sweep across her nerves, which he attempts to drown out with sweet kisses.  

Tech removes his goggles for this last bout, placing them near their heads to continue filming, but he wants to see her face to face.  

Nat is moved by this action, a clammy hand comes to cup his face, fingers tracing along his temple without the interruption of his goggles.  He is handsome.  Her hands come to wrap around his back, a hand grazes over the posture patch between his sharp shoulder blades.  His sweat drips down onto her which she revels in; the fact of knowing how hard Tech works in all aspects of his character in everything he does, it is admirable.  He plants kisses to her forehead and cheeks, nibbles at her neck as his chest falls to rest upon hers.  Natelyte takes a moment to acknowledge how Tech’s frame can easily cage her in beneath him, his heat enveloping her body, his sweat claiming very square inch of her body, as his cock lays claim to her internally.  Tech can feel her depths, no longer limited to physicality, but intellectually, emotionally…he can see it all in her eyes.  How much he means to her, the mark he has left on her brain, her heart, and now all over her body.  

“Gee nog…een uitbarsting my sonskyn…”  He speaks with a heeding tone to what is coming soon.  Nat reaches down to rub her clit, hearing the sounds of their wet skins squelching drives Tech up a wall.  Her moaning increases with pitch, her breathing quickening as she cums again on his cock.  

“Jaaaaa!  Ja! Ja-ah-aah!”  He fucks her again through another deeply felt orgasm which spurs him finally into his own.  

“Ah, yes!  Oh yes!  Karking hell!”  He shouts into the air with quick deep jabs into Nat’s core.  Pouring his unfelt seed inside of Natelyte, a Norse Valkyrie.  As they cum together, they kiss.  

They lay in heaving silence for a few moments before Tech pulls from her and rolls the condom off.  He reaches out for her canteen that had been knocked to the floor from off the desktop earlier and takes a sip for himself then relinquishing the rest of its contents to Natelyte.  She takes a few savoring gulps and hands it back to Tech.  They sit up together and lean against the desk for support.  

“That was awakening.”  Nat chuckles breathlessly looking to Tech for affirmation.  

“I agree.  I wonder how the recording is going to turn out.”  He says dryly and glances down at Nat with a teasing smile.  

“Oh I promise you it will turn out grate after I’m through with it.”

“Just you?  I assumed we would both work on it together…”  His voice cracks from parched vocal cords.  

“I think that is the first time you included someone in your assumption Tech.”  She looks him in the eyes with surprise.  He stares back at her; filtering through his stored memories like a data bank to find any other instance he had done this.   Assuming people already knew what was going to happen but did not know anything until he explained it aloud.  For once he hopes that this assumption would be correct.  Natelyte caresses his cheek fondly and places a chaste kiss to his lips to break his filtering.  “Of course we will work on it together, sonval.”  

Currently trying to get SO to watch Arcane.

I offer you:

The bad batch smiling 🖤

Dee Bradley Baker has to be protected at all costs. Just look at him.

I want to be that torpido 

Wrecker and his beloved proton torpedo

The Bad Batch 1.08 Reunion

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