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Chapter 37: The Visitor

Summary:

I wanted to write something fluffy, don't ask me why. The state of the world sucks, so why not have a nice moment with Bane. He's still a bit of an ass, though.

Chapter Text

Tonight was uncharacteristically warm for this time of year, the seasons in the midst of changing; you would sleep naked, your open viewport providing little in the way of comfort but the occasional breeze—it was not enough.

Your dreams were fretful, each new scenario concocted by your overtaxed mind causing your body to toss and turn, finding no peace even when unconscious.

While awake, you were tired of your humdrum life, the treatment you were afforded at your job, and the subsequent bad mood you had brought home with you every night this week. To top it off, you missed him—the man who could make you smile. The Duros with the red eyes and the wide brim hat, his scales as blue as the open sea and just as pretty—he had been absent from you for quite some time.

You could not help the tears that fell from your restless eyes, staining your pillow, accompanied by your own pathetic whining as you relented to feeling sorry for yourself. You knew it would do no good, but it was cathartic—it would allow you to release your emotional pain, your pent-up stress, if nothing else; you hated how unfair and unforgiving the galaxy could be.

You were forced to bear witness to happy couples holding hands; to friends chatting merrily away at tapcafs, but also to beggars starving on the streets; mothers and their children destitute thanks to wars raged a million parsecs away—everything seemed to get worse, day by day.

And so, yes, you cried. You cried not only for yourself, but for everyone who had ever lived, because merely existing could be unjust and cruel.

And it was true—someone would always have it worse than you, but that fact would never invalidate your feelings.

Your private moment of reflection was interrupted by the unexpected presence of another, your ruminations cut short by the feeling of someone’s weight other than your own being distributed across the surface of your mattress, however scant. A shadow crept, made known to you by the light of your planet’s moon, its outline wholly distinct—he had come to you at last.

You had not taken the time to speculate on why you were feeling so sensitive as of late. Once your body became aware of the hunters’ presence, it was decidedly evident you were held firmly in the thorny grasp of ovulation. You should have known by the telltale soreness of your breasts and the increase in your libido, a rustling of the sheets below your waistline triggering a feeling of tightness in your loins.

“Bane,” you whispered, turning onto your back, your human vision only able to make out the awkward shape of his hat. You wriggled like a pinned insect beneath him, the hunter having lifted the covers you had attempted to sleep beneath, his long, cool fingers running the lengths of your calves up toward the backs of your knees.

“Is it dhat much of a surprise?” he growled, the gruffness of his voice causing your skin to prickle. His large hands came around, pressing your legs apart to expose your sex, the Duros’ flat, cerulean face pushing itself into the meat of your thigh near to your groin.

“No, just—”

“Hrmm…”  he interrupted, a low reverberation of his vocal cords tickling your eardrums as his sharp teeth grazed the soft flesh of your leg. “Exspectin’ someone else?”

No! God, no,” you pleaded; you could almost feel the hunter grin against your pliant skin, the pads of dexterous fingers smoothing up, up, for his thumbs to aid in the spreading of your velvet lips.

You gasped as he nuzzled your mound, bathing in your scent, a dark, rasping purr of a kind you had never heard before registering low in the bowels of his throat.

“S’what Ah thought…” he offered silkily, the point of his pink tongue teasing your clit with an idle flick, causing pinpricks of pleasure to radiate throughout your core.

“Cahn tell, ye know,” he teased, inserting one knurled finger carefully into your wet cunt, gliding it in and out, taking his time.

“Wh-what?” you asked, your breath hitching as your walls flexed around that single digit, larger than any finger had a right to be. Your thoughts were corroded by pleasure, a dense fog having descended to leave you addle brained.

“How bad yer body wants me…” Bane taunted, removing himself to leave you wanton, desperate to have any and all parts of him.

The Duros would make that sound again, sliding back, leaving room to wrap his long, lithe arms about the whole of your waist from beneath, cinching them snugly around you in a hug.

“Best give it up,” he snickered, your belly jumping in surprise as the tip of his cool tongue slithered inside you, his elongated eyeteeth skimming the outer shell of your labia, though it did not hurt.

The bounty hunter was patient, almost languid, groaning throatily at the taste of you; you could not help but writhe pitifully, keeping your movements slow and easy on purpose, not wanting to outpace him—Bane was never in a rush.

He ate and ate, your slick coating his rostrum, his tongue retreating to lick a line from the edge of your cunt to the top of your slit, the Duros focusing his attention on the little nub that pulsed, pausing every time you opened your mouth to moan.

C-Cad…”  you begged weakly, pulling a gravelly chuckle from the Duros. You smiled then, even if you thought this all unfair, so rare was it for him to laugh. “Play nice.”

“Ain’t nice,” he argued, continuing to edge you, relentlessly fondling your clit with expert strokes until such a time you would nearly come undone.

You stole his hat as revenge, removing it from his head to place over yours, peering down at the sight before you, the Duros having lifted one side of his brow ridge to size you up.

Definitely ain’t lettin’ ye now,” he informed you with a shit-eating grin, giving your throbbing bud another swipe.

“Bane!” you cried out, squirming involuntarily, taking his hat up once more to toss back down to him.

“Dhere’s a good girl,” he lauded, taking back what was his, though instead of replacing it, he chucked it aside, allowing you a clear view should you desire to watch.

Then, the Duros doubled-down, playing you like a seven-string hallikset, combining the precise curl of two agile fingers with the gentle lapping of his serpentine tongue. You could only observe for mere seconds, the sight before you enough to drive you toward orgasm not once, but twice.

“Fuck, Bane,” you breathed, tightening your legs around him, the muscles of your thighs a vise around the sides of his bulbous head until your body ultimately wore out.

He did not once complain, taking it all in stride, finally pushing himself up and off you to sit on his knees, not even bothering to wipe his mouth.

“Naht yet, sleep ferst,” he persuaded. “S’late. Figured ye wouldn’t be awake when Ah came knockin.”

“Mm … Mhm,” you agreed, though a thought occurred to you, causing your drifting eyelids to bolt back open.

“No!” you exclaimed, moving to sit up in the dark, “I know your tricks,” you admonished, pouting up at him, caught in the glow of his eyes. “Please …” you quieted, reaching out for him, “don’t leave.”

Though your inept vision would not allow for you to witness it, the bounty hunter frowned. He drew your naked body in and pressed it to himself.

“Won’t leave, lil’ lady,” he promised, “be right here when ye wake up.”

“Cross your heart and hope to die?”

“No, but ye have m’werd. Ain’t nothin’ good as dhat.”

You nodded solemnly; you could finally relax. Even if your time with him was short, you would cherish each and every moment, never knowing which one might be the last, for his line of work was dangerous.