A/N: Ok.
Ok, yeah.
So, this is the first time I've ever published anything like this. It's... yeah. This is pure self-indulgence, really.
I have a head-canon that Crosshair loves his toothpicks so much that he'd even use them in the bedroom. It was a thought that would. Not. Leave. Me. Alone. And this is the result.
Enjoy! Or not.
Disclaimer: I don't own the Bad Batch, but Maker if I did, then they would be getting so much more love.
I squirm where I lay on the bed, tugging at the binders around my wrists and ankles. The blindfold is effective at blocking my vision. The heat of my arousal is burning through me, making my heart pound and my breath catch. I can only imagine what is in store for me.
I freeze when I hear the soft tread of a boot on the wooden floor, the step purposeful and deliberate. Like a Nexu stalking its prey, which only serves to ramp up my arousal. I hear someone whimper softly, and realise that it's me. It's answered by a soft chuckle.
"What lovely sounds you make. Are you going to make more of them for me, mesh'la?" I flush when I do just that, a tiny whine escaping the back of my throat. I jump when a gloved hand gently strokes my cheek.
"Shh, easy my sweet. Look at you. You're already desperate for me, aren't you? And I haven't even touched you yet. Whatever have you been thinking about, hmm?" I swallow, not certain if I'm expected to answer. I open my mouth to speak, only to be shushed again.
"You don't need to tell me, Kitten. I can find out another day. For now, I want to see those pretty eyes of yours." The fingers catch under the blindfold, easily pulling it up and off. I blink as the light floods my eyes, and then focus on him.
"There you are, cyar'ika. Miss me?" He smirks around his ever present toothpick, deliberately playing with it with his tongue. I squirm again, knowing full well what that tongue can do to me.
"Cross…" I begin to say, though I lose my train of thought when he flips the infernal toothpick from one side of his mouth to the other. His smirk widens. Oh, the bastard knows what he's doing. I don't know if I want to kiss him or kill him sometimes. He seems to read the thoughts behind my eyes, removing the toothpick long enough to lean down and kiss me.
"You are beautiful like this, my sweet. Tied to your bed, so desperate for my touch that even my toothpick turns you on. Whatever shall I do with you, hm?"
"Please…" He chuckles again.
"Already begging, but you don't know what for, do you?" I squirm again, stilling as he strokes a hand down my chest, tweaking my nipples hard enough to make me yelp. He drags his thumb around each of the buds, flicking them until I'm groaning with need. I look up at him through hooded eyes, vision already foggy and mind slowing. This man will be the death of me. He flips the toothpick again, golden eyes watching me intently.
I moan as he drags a gloved finger down my folds, lightly stroking my clit, and then when he presses it against my opening.
"So wet. All for me, mesh'la?" I whine again, and gasp when he removes his hand to smack my thigh. "Answer me."
"Y-yes, sir. All for you."
"Good girl." He strokes my clit a couple more times, and then pulls away completely. I whimper at the loss, making him tut at me.
"Patience, Kitten. You'll get what's coming to you, all in good time." His silken voice is full of promise, and I feel more slick slip from me. I watch him as he slowly, oh so slowly, removes his armour and his gloves. He's watching me, a smug smirk on his face. Every now and then, he flicks his tongue against the thin stick in his mouth, eyes glinting dangerously.
I can't tear my eyes away from it.
He hums in thought as he removes the last piece of armour, his lithe form on full display in his blacks.
"You seem fixated on this little thing. Is that right, my sweet?" I open my mouth to answer, but the words stick in my throat. He moves to sit on the side of the bed, languidly stroking my naked body. And then reaches up to pluck the pick from his mouth. His expression is serious.
"Wanna try something, Kitten. If you don't like it, say the word and it stops. Got it?" I nod. "Use your words."
"Yes, sir." He smiles devilishly.
"Good girl." He leans down and kisses me, thrusting his tongue into my mouth and stroking it along mine. He lifts up and positions himself so that he's facing me. He reaches to stroke my cheek with one hand, lifting the pick so I can see it.
"Let's see how much you love this, mesh'la." I gasp, pulling in a shaky breath as he begins lightly tracing the point around my lips and down my neck. It's sharp, lightly scratching my skin and leaving tingles in its wake. I whimper and whine as he draws the point across the sensitive juncture of my shoulder and neck. It was so pinpoint, so focussed. It tickled, but it didn't. It was intense, but it wasn't.
I loved it.
I gasped and groaned as he drew the point down to my breast, drawing smaller and smaller circles towards my nipple. I whined and struggled against the binders, trying to arch my back into the sensation. He chuckled darkly, keeping the pressure light.
"Look at you, struggling against these sensations. You don't know whether to press into it or escape it." I cry out as he finally drags the point across the tip of my nipple. I try to twist as he does it again and again. I shake my head as he switches to my other breast. He pulls it away and dabs it on his tongue. I watch him intently, breath ragged. He smirks at me, dragging his tongue suggestively over the tip. I feel myself clench and ache, and the heat rushes through my body. I whimper and writhe as he scratches the pick across my belly, hitting ticklish spots.
"So lovely. You're enjoying this, aren't you? Hm?" I shout when his finger strokes over my clit. "You're dripping wet. Filthy girl, you're making a mess all over the sheet." I whimper at his words, cheeks flushed and heart racing as embarrassment and arousal war inside me.
"Open your eyes, cyar'ika." I didn't realise that I'd closed them. He's moved, kneeling between my legs and looking down at me with a filthy smile, toothpick held in his hand and arm resting on my thigh. I freeze as I realise what he's going to do. My hips try to shift of their own accord, but he has me pinned.
"You're going to want to stay nice and still for this, my sweet, or it might hurt more than you'll like." He lays down between my thighs, body positioned in a sniper's rest. I wonder if he's noticed how he's lying. I don't get time to think about it as he's circling a finger around my opening. He flashes me a wicked grin, flicking his tongue against the tip of the pick, making me shiver with lust.
"Ready, Kitten?" I nod, trying to hold myself still. He slips his middle finger into me, crooking it and hitting my sweet spot with precision. At the same time, he touches the pick to the very tip of my clit, playing it very lightly over the hyper sensitive bundle of nerves.
Oh, Little Gods!
It feels so sharp, so intense, I can't help but scream and writhe. I love it and I hate it. I want more but I want it to stop. It feels so good it hurts. He pulls it away, replacing it with his tongue, soothing the scratching with long licks, pulling moan after moan from me. And then he switches back to torturing me with his accursed toothpick. I scream and shout and whimper and whine, twisting this way and that as he continues to alternate. I can feel my orgasm approaching, just on the horizon.
"I hope you're not trying to escape me, mesh'la. You're helpless, at my mercy. I can keep this going all night if I want to. Listening to your screams and cries. Almost like I'm torturing you." He huffs a chuckle. "Heh, I guess I am."
"Please, sir… please…"
"Please what, pet?" I shout a sob as he focuses the point on the most sensitive part of my clit, his finger rubbing my g-spot from inside. I can't help but fight against my bonds, throwing my head back and forth. Sweat is beading my brow, my hair sticking to my forehead and neck.
It's too much. Just too much. Too intense.
"Please! Crosshair, sir, please!"
"Come on, my sweet. Tell me what you want." He switches back to licking at me, soothing the slight pain and too intense pleasure. Tears are gathering and spilling down my cheeks. I can't take much more.
I shout as much when he goes back to teasing me with the thin piece of wood.
"Please! Please, sir, I want to come!" He pulls the stick away, making me cry with desperation, and inspects it. He then looked at me with a devious smile, slipping the now damp point between his teeth and playing with it with his tongue.
"Mmm, tastes like you now, mesh'la." I didn't think I could be any more turned on than I already am, knowing that the little stick between his teeth is covered in me. That knowledge alone nearly drives me over the edge, but I know he won't let me come yet. He breaks the seal of his blacks, pushing down the bottoms until his erection is springing free. He pulls the pick from his lips, flicking it away as he crawls up to kiss me.
"I'm gonna fuck you now," he growls.
"Please…" I respond, even though I know he isn't asking. He thrusts into me, setting a rough pace that has me seeing stars. I try to hide my face in the crook of his neck as his eyes bore into me. I feel his hand wrap in my hair and pull my head back, exposing my throat to him.
"Don't hide from me, Kitten. I want to see you when you fall apart." I whimper at both his words and the feeling of him filling me, again and again and again. I can't look away from his eyes, transfixed by his gaze. He smirks at me, thrusting harder and tugging my hair when my eyes fall closed. I hear my voice catch when I shout his name. I feel the fires growing in my belly, the tension pulling taut and ready to snap. He huffs as I clench around him.
"You're close to your edge. I know you are. I can feel you squeezing around me. Feels like you're gonna choke me. Are you going to be a good girl and ask to come?"
"Please, sir," I whimper. "Please, may I come? Please?"
"So sweet. So polite. Come on, you can do better than that. Tell me how much you want, no, need to come. Tell me, pet." He's not letting up, and I'm so close, but I'm trying to hold back. I know better than to come without permission.
"Please, Commander! Please, I need to come! I need it so much it hurts! Please, sir! Please!" I feel tears trickle from my eyes, feel a desperate sob break through my voice. The hand in my hair relaxes, allowing me to move my head again.
"Such a good girl. You beg so prettily. And I like the 'Commander'." His hand wraps around my throat. "Say it again."
"Please, Commander." He growls as his hips stutter in their relentless assault.
"Again."
"Please, Commander!"
"Very nice. I'm so close, Kitten." He shifts his hand between us, finding my swollen clit and rubbing it in time with his thrusts, setting me ablaze.
"Come for me."
And I do, screaming his name as I shatter. My vision whites out as I arch into him, shuddering and shaking with the intensity of it.
He isn't far behind me.
He shouts as he comes, hand squeezing my throat just tight enough to feel the pressure in my head. I feel him swell and then empty himself, pulse after pulse filling me. He collapses on top of me, pressing his forehead into mine as we pant each other's air.
I shiver and gasp when he slips from me, rolling and collapsing at my side, panting heavily. I flush when I feel our mixed release slip from my thoroughly abused channel, wanting nothing more than to hide my embarrassment.
He huffs a chuckle at my whine, finally sitting up and reaching over me, releasing me from my restraints. He takes each wrist and plants a kiss to both in turn, massaging them and checking them for injuries. There are none, apart from the red abrasions where I was thrashing. He does the same with my ankles. And then leans over me and kisses me deeply.
"You did so well, cyar'ika. You took that so well. How do you feel?" I smile satedly.
"Good. I feel good. Real good. I liked that. It was intense, almost painful, but so good." He gathers me up in his arms and holds me close, whispering praises to me as I slowly come down from my high.
He pulls back, golden eyes soft and warm. He kisses me before getting up and telling me to stay where I was. He retreats to the 'fresher, returning with a warm, damp towel and a glass of water. He gently wipes me down while I drink, throwing the towel and climbing onto the bed. He gathers up the covers and pulls them over the both of us. He pulls me into his strong arms and I curl up against him, listening to his steady heartbeat and allowing myself to relax against him.
Until a thought occurs to me.
"Oh Kriff." He stiffens, tightening his hold on me.
"What? What is it?" I sigh and slump against him.
"I just realised something." I look up at his concerned expression.
"What?" I smile at him.
"I'm never gonna be able to look at your bloody toothpicks the same way ever again." The concern melts into mirth and mischief as we both laugh, huddling together until exhaustion takes us and we drift into sated sleep.
So... yeah. I'm just gonna leave that there. If anyone wants, needs, requires me, I'll be hiding in the corner and dying of embarrassment.
