Give me one night Hondo Ohnaka lover please?
Title: Trust me
Summary: Hondo Ohnaka sits at Maz's Castle on Takodana contemplating his many misfortunes and his strife. The Clone Wars have ended, but that does not mean his troubles have - that's when he sees you, and you are staring at his portrait. Perhaps the night will fair better than the day, but that all depends on you.
Notes: This is my first time writing a Hondo x Reader! I normally write for Cad Bane and Shriv Suurgav! I have ideas for more already! ;D Comments / reblogs are appreciated!
Hondo is slightly depressed and a little subdued in this fic - at least at first. It takes place after the Clone Wars have ended/during the Rise of the Empire Era and after Skragg has stolen his possessions/the loyalty of all his men. He has lost everything, so he is out of sorts. One thing though, I could not give up the inclusion of his coat.
PS: The portrait that I mention is "canon" and can be seen in Star Wars: Battlefront 2 at Maz's Castle hanging on the wall.
Word count: 5.5+
Warnings: NSFW / 18+ for smut, fingering, face-sitting, cunnilingus, penis in vagina sex (consensual and gentle), multiple orgasms, light-bondage, and role reversals/switching.
[ AO3 ]
______
“Cheer up, friend! It can’t be all that bad!” Maz Kanata said. The Weequay sitting at her bar was mopey; his head was downturned as his grey eyes studied the bubbling liquid within his tankard. He shifted to gaze at her beyond a set of wide rimmed goggles - they were apart of him like so many other things that adorned his person – all stolen.
“Everything’s gone, Maz. What could possibly be worse than that? My starships; my treasure; my crew; my men, my Kowakian monkey; my most prized possessions! Even all the women! First the Separatists, the Empire, and now that nefarious traitor, Gwarm!” Hondo Ohnaka sighed, reminiscing on his past life. He had been the most feared pirate captain in all the galaxy, his Ohnaka Gang renown from the Core worlds to the Outer Rim territories.
“They even stole my name!” Now he was nothing; a nobody; just a Weequay without a home. The only things left to him were the golden rings bedecking his ridged fingertips - his Deservrar battle helmet - his signature coat taken from a nobleman. These items he did not give up. The clothes off his thick-skinned back were his only personal effects. That, and a few meagre credits.
“Well, you could be dead!” the small woman quipped, observing his long face from beneath a pair of unique spectacles. Hondo thought she had a point though loathe to admit it to himself with the way he felt.
“Yes, I suppose you are correct. At least you have a most handsome painting to remember me by when the inevitable happens.” He raised his mug in the direction of his self-proclaimed graven image, sure to be fawned over for generations, even after the pirate himself had finally met with Maker, though perhaps Maz would still be around to tell his tale.
That’s when he noticed you; you were beautiful and staring at his portrait. His eyes lit up with a little spark of something; you ignited within him a flame of hope as he contemplated all the possibilities of what this could mean for a lonely man like him, but only if he played his cards right…
“Excuse me, Maz.” Hondo stood abruptly, sliding across his barstool. He smoothed out the wrinkles of his crimson coat as he straightened to his full stature. He took a breath, regained himself, or at least a part of him. He brushed one braid back behind his armored shoulder as he reached deep within to retrieve his pomp; his brass; his old confidence, approaching you from the rear – and what a rear it was.
He admired you before bothering to say a word – vuluptous. You wore an unembellished dress, tightened around your hips by a belt lined with varied pouches. You sported a cropped jacket, open, to reveal a deep rent of cleavage; your boots were worn, your hair was down there appeared to be nothing out of the ordinary except for your uncommon comeliness.
He moved to stand beside you, Hondo folding his arms behind his back as he clasped his hands. He stood transfixed as he stared at his own portrait before his beguiling voice filled the space between you; it was lacquered with a façade of gentleness; nobility, artful in its expression, yet Hondo was far from an aristocrat – even scoundrels could have manners - his mother taught him well.
“I couldn’t help but notice you have exquisite taste. The artist truly captured the subject’s dashing good looks, wouldn’t you agree, my dear?”
You were aware of who the man was beside you - you had seen him earlier talking to the sole proprietor – he was on your radar before he ever noticed you, and his advance only made things easier. You mulled over his egotism - should you try to break it just for fun? Should you finesse yourself into his favor as he expected you to do? The potentialities were endless, you could create entire alternate realities based on a few scant words. Oh, but Hondo didn’t know you were that cunning, or a woman who could match his level of crookery and craftiness; you were dangerous.
You decided to buy in.
You didn’t face him but pretended to be unaware of who the Weequay was. You tipped toed forward to get a better look at the portrait or feigned to. “This particular Weequay’s eyes are captivating in their ability to entrance you. They are warm, yet mischievous. There is a twinkle of something hidden within their alluring depths - he has secrets, and he is unwilling to share them with me.”
A smirk was toying at the corner of your lips - you thought that might do the trick – you had chosen your words carefully so as to flatter the man’s self-esteem.
“What do you think?” you asked the pirate with your back still turned. You were giving him the perfect opportunity to make the moves on you. He better make it good.
Hondo Ohnaka smiled deviously as he adjusted the right cufflink of his striped tunic, more to give his hands something to do as he waited an appropriate length of time before responding to you. His reply held a modicum of effervescence, his syrupy voice laced with vainglorious arrogance, yet you would not deny it could easily hold sway over you if you allowed it to.
“I think you are astute in your observations. Perhaps you would enjoy looking into those eyes in person? It might be prudent to test your hypothesis before deciding one way or another what kind of man this Weequay really is. He might pleasantly surprise you.”
And here it was - the time for you to put on your charade - test your acting skills.
“And what would you know of that, Mister…?”
You turned to face the speaker; your gasp was wholly believable. You faintly touched your chest in a mock show of surprise.
“Hondo Ohnaka, at your service.” The knavish devil bowed, sweeping one arm forward in a featly twirl as it came to rest across his personage. He rose with a grin from ear to ear, quite satisfied that he had marveled you into such a state of awe.
Your visage changed; you became the knave, though your intentions were to seduce the rascal if it was even necessary.
Your hand along your bosom lightly glided behind your ear as you forged a blush; it quickly got lost in your lush curls. You spun a strand along your finger as you bat your lashes, your words dripping with licentious intonations.
“And what services do you offer?” you inquired coyly.
Hondo reached out for you with his hand laden in golden rings, his palm turned upward as he silently requested the presence of your own within his. You humored him, impressing your fingers along his. Those digits coiled and brought you close with a gentle tug so that he might implant a kiss. His lips were thin, warm to the touch, and soft as silk - they left behind the sensation of a tingle.
“That depends on you love, and what you’re in the market for,” he retorted deftly.
He disengaged, not lingering more than he thought sensible. You took the opportunity to softly brush your fingertips along his frills before retracting your appendage. The man exuded a small sound of yearning, though he took a deep breath and bit his tongue to prevent himself from coming on too strong. Oooh, you were a wily one…
“I have a few ideas. Afterall, it’s not every day you meet the great pirate captain Hondo Ohnaka in the flesh,” you stated plainly, laying the compliments on thick.
“So you have heard of me – that’s more than I bargained for – though not unexpected.” “Great” was an adjective he was largely fond of.
“Oh, I’ve heard many things,” you japed, taking a step forward, one perfectly trim nail grazing the armor across his shoulder. It slid down, trailing the length of his unique skin between the ‘V’ shape enriched with gilded thread. It was supple, downy, yet exceptionally tough, like a Saurin, or a Trandoshan, perhaps, though smoother, more refined, like the man himself.
Hondo cleared his throat, his charcoal-colored irises catching you with a look that nearly took your breath away from behind his goggles. Instead, he grasped your hand again; he held it still against his chest. You could feel his heartbeat. This simple, yet intimate gesture had disarmed you in totality.
“I only hope I can live up to them,” he demurred.
---
You had coaxed Hondo to your lair, like the spider had the fly, or had he coaxed you? It was hard to tell the difference.
You had rented a room here on Takodana right inside Maz’s castle for the night, and this was the specific reason why. It had a lovely view of Nymeve Lake, though the only view you cared for was right in front of you. You scarcely made it there - you couldn’t keep your hands to yourself – you were explorative, and the pirate hardly protested.
You were surprised by your depraved appetites; there was just something about the man. He had powerful charisma, though he was supposed to play into your hands. He had barely touched you; you were so voracious, and he could not deny it was a boost to his self-regard, not that he needed much of one.
“I appreciate your- mmn.” His words were cut off by your richly hued lips; they anchored against his, unyielding, until you pushed your tongue between his teeth.
The man moaned into your parted mouth, his thickset muscle winding around yours in a calculated set of movements that catalyzed the stirring of your loins. You had pinned him to a wall outside your door, arms and all. His wrists were limp beneath your hands - it was a kind of role reversal that he was used to - the pirate had been the lover of Aurra Sing; he let you have your way with him.
“Make love to me,” you whispered against his kiss, tugging him forward as he dutifully followed, though far be it from him to try and break your purchase. He was rather enjoying this.
“I daresay, you present a most convincing-”
It seems you would not allow him to finish speaking. Normally he might have sorely hated to be interrupted, but for this occasion it was warranted.
Your hands slipped down below his waistline as your mouths were joined; he didn’t bother to investigate what you might be up to. You had unlocked the door; pushed it open; the other hand kindly ran along the apex of his many frills. The man stopped you there. He clasped your hand with one of his. You let out a small gasp as he benignly berated you for touching them.
“Careful, darling, I cannot control what might become of me if you keep doing that.”
Something happened. Cold durasteel had met with his slender wrist. He heard a click then felt something small, obtrusive, and unforeseen pressed upon his person right afterward. He glanced down to find a palmed sized hold-out pistol fit snuggly against his guts. His skin was blaster-resistant, but at this close range he would not be one to risk a hasty move.
“Your other hand, please,” you requested tersely.
The Weequay hmphed, almost laughing at himself. He did as he was told; he released you and lowered his other arm. You quickly bound him in your binder -; the pouches along your belt were full of an assortment of deadly goodies that aided you in your profession – you were a bounty hunter.
Oh, but this had been hard to do. You were fraught with an internal struggle. You wanted him all to yourself, but you also desired to turn him in for the credits that he was worth - a slighted clan had put a sizeable price upon his head.
The man must have seen something within your eyes, for he spoke to you with cloying sweetness, though his words were tinged with disappointment as he rebuked himself – it was a new kind of game.
“I should have known that you were not truly interested in me. I am but a shadow of my former self, though I do applaud you. You would make a most excellent pirate, my dear. I have never felt so double-crossed.”
He looked sad, downtrodden, and though he was partially, he was putting on an act in hopes that you might drop your guard- make you feel sorry for him – to his pleasure it was working.
His pout; those lowered eyes now bereft of their happy glow. You tried to touch him again, his cheek, but you were shunned. He turned away from you and gazed down at the floor as he sighed out a forlorn breath that hitched, ragged in his throat. You felt scolded as your heart sank; you were moved by his sudden humbleness.
“Please, I beg of you - do not toy with my emotions any further. Let us get this over with.” The hurt was obvious – you had wounded his pride, his undoubtedly fragile ego. You had heard of his many failures, the bad luck he had been dealt; you bit your lip as you studied him.
You spoke without thinking. You couldn’t help yourself. You replaced your weapon as you twirled with him, keeping him trapped between the entrance of your rented room and the outside hall. “Perhaps we can make a deal.”
He would have smiled but he wouldn’t dare to. He kept up his façade; his head never lifted as he quietly told you the truth, conceding to your display of dominance. “I have nothing to offer you except myself.”
He lightly jingled the cuffs that currently confined him. “And that, I am afraid, you already have.”
It had been a whisper; he implanted the idea into your mind without you noticing. He was succumbing to your authority, giving you control over him; it was a boon, and not something many could have ever claimed to do.
You gathered his chin between your index and your thumb; you forced him to look at you. He blinked once, languidly, before his argentine sky-colored eyes bore deeply into yours - they were the cast of a coming storm - achromatic, but oh-so-beautiful.
“For that I ask permission.”
He never wavered as he looked at you. “Any stipulations?”
“One of your many rings should suffice – enough to cover the bounty that would be owed to me.”
“How do I know this is not a trick? You might decide to take the bounty out on me and the gold.
“You don’t – you’ll just have to trust me.”
He thought it over or at least pretended to. “I accept.”
He brought his arms up, waiting to be freed, a pitiful look etched across his leathery countenance.
“Not a chance. I can’t have you running off on me quite yet.”
“A wise decision,” he stated simply.
---
The Weequay waited with downcast eyes as you undressed for him. He was attempting to be respectful, though he caught a glimpse of naked skin and betrayed you with a glance. You were in your lacey undergarments but the rest of you was bare. You crooked a finger as you beckoned him.
He stepped forward to the bed and you latched onto the center of the cuffs; a length of chain separated one hand from the other. You pulled him towards you; you wanted to devour him with another kiss. You serried your lips against his hungrily. He made the motions, though timid, behaving unlike he had before. You backed away to regard him, your frown apparent.
“Don’t you want me anymore?”
The longer he kept this performance going, the more and more believable it would seem, he told himself. After all, you had never met before or spoken before this night. He was sure his reputation proceeded him, though that didn’t mean you were aware of the many tricks and stratagems that Hondo could seemingly pull out of thin air - his unmatched theatrics being one of them – he could rival your performance.
“You are beautiful,” he informed you, “but I do not know what you want of me. I do not wish to-”
“Hondo.” You ran your fingers along one of his stray braids, fingering the end of it; the hair was wispy; you enjoyed its texture. “I want all of you, or the deal is off.”
“Then all of me you shall have.”
The Weequay kissed you then with balmy passion; his lips were soothing, as were his hands. He had raised his arms, ribbed digits tenderly caressing you even as they were bound, your rosy cheeks finding their way to the center of his palms. His touch was temperate, delicate, as if you were a fragile flower or an expensive work of art; his tongue crept forward to dance with yours if you would so allow.
He placed a knee upon your borrowed bed; he crept forward, coercing you to rest one foot and calf atop the coverlet. His fingers inched back to either side of your slender neck as he cradled you behind your ears. He realized he could have choked you, killed you right then and there with your own cuffs. You seemed none the wiser, oblivious to the danger as his tongue was now full flush inside your mouth.
The pirate decided not to do that, though he guided his cinched hands downward and cupped your lavish breasts. His moans were subdued, quiet, as he carefully massaged your flesh beneath your lingerie. His other knee joined the first; he used a small amount of subtle force to sit you down. He dipped you back upon your pillows the best he could - you fell gradually with his attentive aid - your hair tumbling around you like the halo of an angel; Hondo thought you luxurious.
The Weequay straddled you; he was now in a position of power over you, though he labored not to notice. He would ride it out.
He watched captivated as you undid the hooks, pushing down the straps to reveal your soft mammalian tissue for him to grope and fondle as he so wished. He adjusted his overcoat in an awkward fashion; it was proving difficult. He brushed it halfheartedly away by the point of his own elbow as he backed up, craning over you. He sowed felicitous kisses along your pulse point, your shoulders, beyond your clavicle, and down the center of your chest.
He lingered along your sternum before turning to your bosom, his lips leaving you in the throes of horripilation as the tiny hairs along your arms stood upright out of longing and excitement. He was being methodical, tortuous in his ministrations, his tongue finally extending to ghost your readily awaiting nipple. You emitted a small sound of elatedness as he had presently found his mark – he was good at that.
Your vocalization only seemed to encourage him; he compressed your other breast with the clawing of his fingers. He drove his hardened cock against your lower leg, though it remained hidden beneath his trousers. He sucked your teat with unrestrained enthusiasm as he let his instincts overtake him. He nipped you with his teeth, though very gently. He unlocked and released, not wanting to ignore the other breast. He gave each one attention in due time, leaving behind a trace of moist saliva.
He had begun his descent, though he nearly slipped along your abdomen in attempting a more complicated enterprise. Half of it might have been done on purpose but you would never know the opposite. He paused, looking at up at you from the transparisteel inset within his eyewear. The glass surface reflected the luminescence produced from the only lamp within the room, bouncing back at you. His expression changed, taking on notes of a patient lust, waiting idly as those steely, slanted eyes nearly caused your heart to stop.
“This would be much easier, and a far more pleasant experience for the both of us, if you would be so kind as to free my hands.”
You were nearly persuaded by his salacious mien alone; you were tempted to give in. His voice was honey in your ears; his gaze was hypnotizing. You had reached out towards your belongings where the key was stored before you stopped yourself; there was a glimmer in his pupils that made you second-guess; you had many doubts about the sentient, and this was one of them.
“No,” you firmly answered him. “How do I know you won’t betray me?”
He gave you only what could be described as a wicked grin. “You don’t – you will just have to trust me.”
He bent down from his position and kissed your inner thigh, suckling your skin. He left a tiny placement of broken capillaries in his wake before he adeptly convinced you otherwise.
“Come. Let me make you… feel alive,” he whispered as his hairline mouth wandered further inward towards your still clothed sex. You were undeniability turned on - you had surpassed aroused.
You thought you might regret this, but your desire for him carnally overpowered your resolve as did his lustrous baritone.
You fumbled for the key; you undid the binders hastily. You didn’t bother to replace them, you only left them off to the side as you were still entranced by the Weequay’s eyes.
Hondo rubbed one wrist, evocative of a man who had been subjected to undue imprisonment for a great length of time, though he murmured his approval, smiling all the while.
“That’s better.”
His fingers curled around either side of your underwear; he rolled them down your knees and off your ankles. He dropped them off by the vertex of two fingers in a moment of tomfoolery.
“You won’t be needing these,” he teased.
He made another set of motions; he removed several of his rings, oh, but they weren’t for you. Not yet. They were safely put away into his pocket.
Your breath caught in your throat as Hondo lowered his entire body to match up with your own. You were eye to eye now as he kissed you, and he had sunk two fingers deep inside your cunt without so much as a warning. His other hand ran through your hair, stroking you in a loving manner, his thumb petting you along your forehead as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.
“You’re already so wet, love. Is it all for me?”
The skillful extremities inside your body’s cavity nestled to the hilt with the help of your excessive slick, their zeniths pressing lightly against the center of your pleasure. He shifted, biting your lower lip as your mouth parted, having been immersed in the unique sensation in summation.
It was a cautious nibble before his warm muscle encircled yours, his erection riding against your hip. A dulcet whine escaped him, a tone that was most agreeable, for it caused you to peak along with the overwhelming prowess with which Hondo Ohnaka administered his cunning expertise.
You bit back the sounds of your release, refusing to wake the entire castle, though this disappointed Hondo. He was out to get you now.
“The nerve of you,” he scoffed.
You felt each rib of his alien extremities as they left you empty, sliding out with ease thanks to your abundant secretions though not enough for him.
“I want to hear you sing, my dear.”
He crept backward on his hands and knees, delving into your already soaked mound. He spread your lower lips apart with his thumb and index, titillating you with just the tip of his thick tongue across your clit. You squirmed, reaching back to grasp the bedframe as your chest heaved, pressing your lips together as you writhed.
He noticed the fight you gave; he redoubled his own efforts. His entire tongue entered you, sampling your nectar. The pad of his ridged thumb expertly rubbed your bundle of ardent nerves as he fucked you with his mouth, feasting like a starving animal.
You came again, albeit quietly; you were forcing yourself not to scream even as your toes curled inward. You were so overtaken by the depths of your own feelings, your body’s fervor, that you were surprised when Hondo grabbed you by the hips and forced you to roll over.
You found that he was beneath you; he had positioned you atop his face. You quickly readjusted so as not to smother him though the pirate would not have minded. Your breasts hung above his head as you steadied yourself against the bedposts. He moved to clutch your replete bosom so that he could belaud and worship them with both his hands.
The vibration of his vocal cords as he crooned aloud from the taste of you sent a shiver down your spine as it only added to the eroticism of this whole affair. He tweaked your nipples, the little pinch sending a sharp prickle throughout your entire being. He was involuntarily steaming up his own goggles as his nose flared, breathing in your delightful scent and nearly stifling himself against your malleable flesh; unlike his, it was pliant and extraordinarily fun to grabble.
That made three times; you were a little louder on this occasion, unable to regulate yourself as his effective muscle snaked and embedded itself into your sateen couloir.
Your back arched as you covered his hands upon your breasts with your own palms. You threshed in an effort to control yourself, though Hondo strategically placed his knee behind your back, pushing you forward so that you could not escape your orgasm.
Once you had calmed yourself, once the buzz and thrum had ebbed away, you found yourself struggling to breathe but Hondo wasn’t done with you - far from it.
You chirped, articulating your surprise with a belt of air expelling from your aching lungs as he pushed you back upon his lap. He wiped his mouth off before he simpered, asking you a straightforward, yet somehow loaded question.
“Top, or bottom, my dear?”
“Both.”
You leapt at him, kissing him along his face and frills, down his neck and towards his exposed chest. You undid the clasp that held his pants up, then pushed them down far enough to reveal his manhood. It was stout, slightly above average, and ridged like the rest of him, though fleshier than his otherwise hardened exterior. There were extra nodes which looked like they might be fun to ride; no use staring at it, you would never know until you tried.
“Eager, aren’t we?” Hondo noted as you aligned yourself and winded down along his cock. The man himself breathed unevenly as he watched you impale yourself.
“Do take your time, love, you don’t want me to- mmn...”
You didn’t listen to him; you made waves across his member. Your entire body fluctuated as you had become a human sheath, investing your whole self.
Ohhh, and his ribs and crests; his distinctly alien appendage. It felt so good steeped all the way to the end of your vaginal canal.
You moaned aloud, a fourth orgasm building up. He placed his hand along and behind your back, one resting against your lower abdomen. Both of you could feel him behind your velvet walls, the outline present through your skin as he cupped himself within you from without.
“Mm, Hondo…” you sighed out, leaning back precariously on your outspread palms. It only made things feel tighter inside you, allowing the man to further experience every inch of you enwrapped around his phallus.
“That’s it, darling. Slow and steady,” he serenaded you, his praise in that husky voice veneered with ambrosia, auditory, and nearly making you cum all on its own.
This time you vocalized. It was heavenly. Your voice most assuredly soared beyond the door and throughout the castle’s many halls.
Just as you thought you might recover, just as your body settled down, Hondo latched onto your waist and flipped you with the utmost care still imbued within your already twitching cunt. He smiled audaciously, eyeing you with obvious pretension as he casually reminded you of your previous rejoinder to his query.
“That makes four now, doesn’t it? But who’s keeping count? Let us not forget you wanted both.”
He plunged his groin into you, although laggardly, forcing you to feel every stroke of him inside you; it was almost excruciating – in the best possible way. One hand came up, carding; combing; brushing your flaccid strands away from your eyes and forehead as he gazed into yours with his of silver, his tongue finding yours stationary inside your mouth as you saw stars.
That’s when you heard the click.
You were so overcome with zeal;, so bewitched and enchanted by this Weequay’s abilities and well-honed skills, that you never saw it coming. He had locked one cuff around your wrist as you were steadying yourself from aloft, having already made it easy for him. He dragged your arm further upward as he wrapped the chain around the wooden railing, though he was mindful of not hurting you.
You tried to fight him off, but another orgasm was overtaking you. It gave him time to bind your other hand in the same manner leaving you entirely trapped and at his mercy, yet his languorous, indolent caresses never ceased upon your innards, even as you hummed his name.
You were now locked between yourself and the bed itself, the chain wrapped around the frame somewhat loosely, though it fastened both your hands in place.
Once finished, he occupied himself on what really mattered; your pretty accentuations as you came for the fifth time that very night. You didn’t have time to think about what you might have gotten yourself into; his pride would be through the roof.
He pumped harder into you, his hips picking up their pace. He was near himself, though he didn’t want to be presumptuous. He rocked backward as he made his own sounds of jubilation; you knew he was planning to escape. You wanted to feel his seed within you; you were well protected of your own accord.
“Cum inside me,” you commanded lightly.
He did as he was ordered throughout a series of euphoric gesticulations across his handsome face. He had never even bothered to undress; he still wore his coat; his goggles; his boots and all. It seemed ideal for the situation - the one where he ultimately two-timed you - a quick getaway was his priority.
He was expended; he lay there atop you for a moment. He brushed his fingertips across your lips. You both didn’t move for several minutes until the sound of jingling durasteel invaded the lingering silence. He smirked at you before he rose, stood, and readjusted, cinching the buttons to his trousers.
“I suppose you can only blame yourself for this,” he noted, brushing a mote of something off the sleeve of his crimson coat.
“Trusting me, that is.”
His eyes returned to yours; that impish grin still present at the corner of his mouth.
“I have to say – despite everything - you have lifted my spirits! To feel so desired by a beautiful woman, even knowing it was for the bounty on my head, to remember that I am worth something - credits, your undying devotion - made it all worthwhile.”
Your sultry gaze met his as you lay naked, refusing to give him the enjoyment of seeing you upset – to lose your cool would be ignorant of you.
“Glad I could help,” you stated nonchalantly though your voice was laced with sarcasm.
“Ah, more than you know…”
The pirate had moved to stare out over the pristine lake, studying something within the expansive yard. “Tell me, darling… is that your YV series light freighter parked out there? Seems the appropriate mode of transportation for one such as yourself – a bounty hunter, of all things…”
The worry and fear that overtook you for a single instant answered his question better than anything you could have said. You shook the cuffs more harshly as he tutted his reproach at your brash actions.
“I’m in the market for a ship; yours might do the trick, for now, until I find something much more suited to my tastes.”
He came forward then, the sound of his boots echoing across the cobblestone; he stroked your silky locks, frowning down upon you. “Please, do not hurt yourself. There is no need for such behavior.”
He planted one more kiss along your lips before he delved into his pocket and withdrew one golden ring. He inlaid it upon your finger though too big for you. It was his repayment.
“I shall inform Maz you are in a bit of a situation. But that is to be expected, is it not? Cavorting … bargaining with pirates …especially ones you try to double-cross - you’re better than that.”
He waved his fingers at you in a foppish brandish, a flourish by all standards. He crossed the threshold to the now open door; he nodded once, tipping his head to you, then he closed you in. You sighed, for he was right. You had done this to yourself.
But it had been so worth it in the end …
---
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