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Published:
2025-03-21
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Limitless

Summary:

You always wanted something more with your Mandalorian companion, luckily a new advancement in Coruscant may help you fulfill your desires.

Notes:

I love Din Din. Yippeeee!

Work Text:

“A memory wipe is protocol after a session.”

You nod slowly, staring at the blob-like droid in front of you.

Mando frequents around this part of the planet, always looking for parts, stocking up in supplies. You’re sure there were other planets around the galaxy that offered the same thing, even for a cheaper price but he always made the trip back to Coruscant.

You knew the area like the back of your hand now, or you thought you did until you saw an advertisement. A slip of paper made its way into your pocket. Obviously, it was a secretive business, the droids were advanced and the prices were high.

Whatever you desire could be yours…

It sounded promising and when you had approached the building in curiosity, hiding as a lodging rental building, and stride over to the front desk with your hood firmly in place asking for a more detailed description, your heart leapt at the prospect.

The possibilities are endless…

He had gazed at you weirdly when you kept on refusing to buy anything from the markets of the other planets you ventured into. You’d usually buy plenty of food, trinkets you kept in your small makeshift bunk you had built in the hull and clothing Din would nod in approval. They were usually bought to get his attention, although you’re not sure if some of your fashion choices ever had an effect on him, not how you wanted at least.

All those bounty credits he split with you went somewhere and there usually wasn’t anything left by the end of the month. Still, it was like he encouraged it, sometimes even going as far as taking you to the good markets of planets he’s already been to and gesturing where the best prices would be.

“What? Nothing?” he teases, bumping his arm with yours, nodding his head to the sweets of the stall, knowing you had a particular interest in candied and spiced fruits. You shake your head, smiling when he responded with his own, a sigh of exasperation making you chuckle quickly afterwards.

You both stand near a food stall now as you take a bite of chewy mystery meat off of a kebab stick. You wince at the pungent taste. You should have spent a few extra credits on the crowded vendor’s instead of the one stocked full. Mando noticed. 

He presses a finger against your shoulder teasingly, his arms crossing at the way your nose scrunched in reaction. He was slightly worried by your sudden lack of spending and the way you would zone out constantly. Like now, just chewing on a burnt piece of unidentifiable meat and staring into his chest. 

“Are you saving up for something I don’t know about?”

You refocus as if he had popped a bubble of your daydream. For a moment, he can see the way he had caught you off guard, he leans in closer, interrogatively. Your face heats up quickly and you shake your head.  

Your cunt throbs at the thought. You were saving up on a lot of things. Trying to memorize every piece of his armor, analyzing and watching his every move, along with saving up credits, of course. The “experience” wasn’t cheap, and you’d be damned if you couldn’t at least have it once.

“Maybe,” you reply, avoiding his gaze, knowing he must be smirking under that helmet.

“For the last time, I don’t want you to get me anything for Life Day-“ he starts.

“It’s for me,” you interrupt sharply. 

His head tilts, his hands shift to his hips. You knew he was aching to know what you could be possibly saving up for but you keep on walking ahead, as if nothing had been said.

“Anything? Even metal?”

It stares at you, its robotic voice echoing around the room. You were led to a private suite, the room pristine and clean in comparison to the outside. It really was worth every credit, the suite even came with a bathroom as well, the shower large and the amenities stocked to the brim with luxurious products.

“Yes, of metals found around the galaxy, although it is essential to understand that they do not contain the same properties-“

“Okay.”

You hum, shifting from foot to foot, unsure of your next move. You’ve never been to a brothel before, never having paid anyone or anything for those types of services.

But you were desperate, you felt yourself ache with just his proximity and it was starting to get distracting. Just the other week you had barely missed a knife to the stomach, too focused on the way Mando grunted with each hit directed at his enemies.

He was always a sight to see, but you’re sure all he will ever see you as is a friend, at most a dear one.

“You may start,” the droid says, gesturing its hand out to you, its skin shining a light transparent blue from the gel-like coating of its outer layer.

Your lips twitch, wanting to spit the words out but finding yourself at a loss of courage. How humiliating, you thought, you were about to ask a shapeshifting droid to transform into your companion and fuck you.

“You may start,” it repeats.

Your hands wring together, your eyes closing tightly as you mouth the words.

“A…” you shake your head and press your fist between your brow. You exhale shakily.  

“A Mandalorian.”

You could hear the gel like skin shift, your lungs aching as if they wanted to compress into themselves. You opened your eyes to find a Mandalorian, standing in front of you, helmet tilted down in a stare.

Your skin pricks with bumps. You frown, the armor was vibrant in color, the pieces different from your Mando’s.

“Silver armor, unpainted, shines enough to see a reflection.”

It shifts color, you start to breathe heavily at the implication. Just the familiar tone of silver made your thighs clench together.

You move closer, hesitantly reaching a finger out to touch. It was cold, hard and thick. It felt close enough to the real thing.

“The helmet needs to be longer, no rangefinder, and narrow the vertical length of the visor.”

It looks down on you and you almost flinch. You give the rest of the descriptions your eyes avoiding its gaze, almost as if you were afraid Mando would actually come to life in front of you. You even placed the mudhorn signet on his right pauldron, the skull gleaming in the light as it shifted closer to you to confirm that it was how you wanted.

Orange tipped gloves, leather strap coming from his left and going down to his right hip, his blaster at his waist and a belt… Taller, his hands larger, his thighs thicker, shoulders so much more broader.

You stare for a few moments, amazed at how much the droid had listened to your instructions, how well it had taken in your requests. It looked like him, as if he were staring right at you.

Then it speaks.

“Is there anything else you would like me to do?”

It made you flinch. You frown and then you pull your comm from your pocket, almost letting it slip from how much you trembled in anxiety.

“Can-“ you almost choke on your spit, “c-can you upload recordings into your system?”

It nods silently, you almost let out a whimper from how much that reminded you of him. His armor ticks with each step, his hand now distended towards you, wanting to take the device and pair it with himself.

“It will only take a moment,” he says cheerily.

You hold his other hand as you wait, your eyes traveling over his body, commenting on the little things that seemed out of place and watching as he morphed into whatever you wanted.

His body was warm. You intertwine your fingers together, feeling his hand tighten over yours slightly in reciprocation.

It felt just like him, whenever he tangled his hand in yours if only for a few seconds in a sign of reassurance. Your heart thumps, this time he doesn’t pull away, this time he leans in when you press further.

It doesn’t flinch at your touch, or pull away whenever you try to get close. You felt pathetic, your yearning had made you helpless and made Mando irritated with you. Sure he was still kind, respectful and at times very humorous, but that was how he normally behaved with anyone.

So you thought. 

You realized that your crush might have made you delusional. Hope blinded you to conjuring up his tenderness. 

Tenderness that dissipated quickly. 

He was acting differently with you, before you might have even imagined he was flirting, bumping into you and grabbing at your waist in passing, squeezing you into his hold when inches away from certain death or injuries during your hunts.

Now, every interaction you have feels dulled, he limited his touches to pats on your shoulder, he doesn’t speak to you with the same timber and suave. He even… You cringe at the memory. He even rejected you, which started the whole ordeal.

It had left a hole in your heart, when he shoved you away, the you who was barely even tipsy with spotchka, finally finding some courage in yourself. Your hands were roaming too much on his arm, he gripped them and shook his head.

You squeeze the droid's hand tighter, avoiding looking into the vizor it had created. Just thinking about it made your heart shatter in two again.

“I like you a lot Din-” He had told you his name the night before, just landing on Sorgan, finally finding some peace of mind for just a few moments as you laid together in the same bed, the same hut. You thought it meant something more.

“You’re drunk,” he said in a huff, sounding angry.

“I’m not,” you argued softly, feeling your shoulders deflate.

He sighed, pushing your hands onto your lap. He stared into the fire, scooting away and crossing his arms over his chest.

You had stared at the reflection of his armor, staring at yourself, trying to find what was wrong. Then his helmet tilted up, and your gaze followed only to find Omera, and she was beautiful, dancing along with the children, kneeling down to play with Grogu and her own daughter around the campfire.

“Oh,” you had whispered, brows furrowing in pain before you composed yourself. You couldn’t cry in front of him.

You sat up straighter, staring into the ground and festering in the awkwardness. You left quickly, after he just settled into silence.

The next morning you acted as if you didn’t remember a thing, even if your first cup was a third empty, you said you had just gotten so drunk you probably blacked out. 

You went back to calling him Mando, which made him think you might not have been as truthful as you claimed

That was the end of that, but try as you might you still couldn’t let him go.

The weeks before the appointment you had managed to find ways to record him, as well as saving any messages he had left for you through holo and comm. You hope it was enough to show a bit of Mando’s personality.

At least the old one.

“Please feel free to enjoy yourself while the data…isss…t-transferred.”

It startles you how much the voice distorted, the body stiffening and locking into place.

You sit on the bed for a while, watching it, at times it’s body twitching. It was in a stance, shoulders hunched, legs spread and hands at its sides. His muscles strain against his flight suit and you could see your reflection on the chest plate, your widened eyes staring right back at you.

You lay down on the bed, pulling your tunic off, shoving your pants down and only leaving yourself in your breast band and panties.

Your hips rock lightly at first, against the edge of the mattress, keeping your eyes on the droid turned your very own companion. His hands twitched at his sides, his helmet pointed in your direction predatorially.

You pull your underwear up slightly, the fabric bunching over your slit and tightening over your clit. You moan lightly.

If he were to see you like this now how would he react, how would he feel? Disgust, you think. He would be disgusted by how far you were willing to give for just one night with a sex doll made in his image.

Somehow that made this whole thing hotter. You were doing something you weren’t supposed to, morally. Judging by the way his chest heaves in front of you, powerful and full, you’re sure it would be worth all of your credits.

Your fingers play with your erect nipple, sticking out onto the band in nubs from the cold and your arousal. They were tight with tension, pulsing with your heart from how tender they felt.

You close your eyes, your other fingers moving down to swirl over your throbbing clit over the thin fabric of your underwear. You were already so swollen, your pussy clenching with barely there stimulation.

Your body falls back into the bed, legs spreading wide and your head lifting only for a second to see his figure still firmly planted in front of you, helmet angled, making you pulse at the thought of him watching.

Movements slow, hips undulating with every breath out. You feel yourself slide against the fabric of your panties, folds squelching with each move.

“Mesh’la…”

You startle up, pressing your tunic over yourself, as if you were caught in the crest. You stare for a few moments. His helmet tilts, the glint almost blinding you from the position of the lights above which dim the longer he stares, making the room glow in a sensual orange-red.

“Were you touching yourself?”

You shiver, that was his voice, clear or clear enough with the crackle of his modulator.  It was teasing, deep, and enchanting.  A flash of electricity rips past your spine, he steps closer, his armor clinking together with each strut. You swallow thickly, aching when his helm tilts in question.

“Y-yes,” you practically whimper. He hums deeply, satisfied with your answer. His hand twitches and you stare on, open mouthed. It was one of his ticks, what he does when he anticipates something, or is nervous. His fingers flex and he shakes it off, tapping his crotch after a few moments.

“Cock or pussy?”

He chuckles, your shocked expression must have been amusing. You’ve felt him before, you fell on his lap, his hands tightened over your waist tightly to keep you from falling over when you had stood from your seat in the crest. You had rubbed over him, until he had hardened slightly.  It was all accidental, you didn’t mean to make him react in that way, more occupying thoughts were in your mind at that moment, like the several ships flanking you suddenly. This was at the beginning of your partnership as well, so it was brushed off quickly, never talked about again.

“Cock.”

A bulge rises in the front of his flight suit, zipper straining against the mass forming underneath. He palms himself over it, the thick outline of it squeezed by his hand.

“Can you-“

You cut yourself off before you could finish, biting your lip in contemplation. He stands closer, his crotch now in front of you, his hand smooths over your face and you sigh, mouth parting and eyes closing in bliss. His gloved hand was so warm, he smelled like gunpowder and leather, the slight tang of metal.

“Tell me what you want, sweet girl.”

You let out a moan, breathy and throaty. You wanted to dip your fingers into yourself. His fingers tip your head up, leather gloves pinching your skin and making it pucker and shiver. He only ever calls you that teasingly, you guess he was finding all of the pet names in the data he had transferred.  You barely recognized how strange that might be, having a whole record on Mando, files upon files, saved messages and conversations from your comms.

“Thicker… he’s thicker.”

You didn’t really know that, but the way he stood and sat gave you the idea that he was. You lick your lips, he was busy unzipping the front of his pants, pulling himself out.  You watch as he pumps himself, the mushroom tip of the cock leaking, dribbling down the sides from the jerk of his still gloved palm.

“You can touch me.”

Again, a hint of humor and tease, so much like him that it gets you out of your doubtful mind. His hands tug at your bicep, dragging up to your forearm and your hand, making you shiver when he places it directly onto his shaft. It stiffens further, thickening under your touch.

“Would you like me to react audibly?”

“Yes.” An almost immediate response.  You wanted this to feel as real as possible.

“How?”

“Not too loud, more grunts and groans… desperate, like you can’t hold it in anymore…”

He hums again, his hips slightly jerking in your direction all of the sudden.  You stare up, his vizor trained on your face.  His groans sounded pained, the edge of his helmet meeting his chest plate as he continued to watch you pump him.  A brush of your thumb over his tip makes him keen, his back arching, his hand tightening over your shoulder. 

He was pulsing in your hand, sticky with pre-ejaculate, lube you assume. You shake your head before exhaling shakily, your cheeks warming at what you were preparing yourself to say next.

“I want to suck your cock.”

He thrusts in the air, his cock so close to your mouth you could smell the musk from his body. You use both hands, a slick sound forming with your increase of pace.

“So g-good,” he breathes heavily. 

You couldn’t stop yourself before you put him in your mouth, tongue curving around the head, swirling over the tip oozing with his slick.  It tastes good, artificial and creamy. You moan, closing your eyes tightly. Like candy, a tangy fruit you’d come across but can’t recollect the name of.  His hand moves to the back of your head, his groans raising slightly in volume, you could hear him swallow thickly, your mouth enveloping further down his shaft. 

You were getting wetter, your lower half building heat. The thought of bringing him pleasure makes you want to crawl out of your skin and into his.

You moan when more of the taste enters your mouth, making you salivate naturally.  You drool, now pushing yourself to your knees, arching your back as you scoot further into the bed, making him shift closer to the edge.  It makes you gag, your throat flexing over him, making him pulse, the veins becoming prominent enough for you to lick when you let go with a pop and a string of saliva connected to his dick droops down to the floor in a splat.

He caresses your face as you catch your breath, leaning down, making you sit up and start to lean back as he crawls over you.  It was so damn hot, goosebumps rose on your skin, your legs started to spread when his body slid closer.

“Let me make you feel good.”

“I already do,” you whimper.  He groans as a response. His head leans down your stomach, the lip of his helmet grazing over your belly and making you shiver.  His hand caresses up your calf, moving up to your thighs and squeezing possessively. His head tilts, asking you a silent question, what should I do next?

His hands stay put, caressing over your thighs, moving down further to pinch your ass.  His shoulders were so broad they casted a shadow over you, his body so large you had to spread your legs wide to accommodate his torso. You catch the glint on his helmet and your head swirls. 

You’ve thought about it before, how he would be able to see your bare pussy on the vizor like an invisible wall, see it glide back and forth as you grind on his helmet.

It was your call. Whatever you desired.

He positions himself on his back, helping you crawl up his body, patting your ass playfully when you hesitate to sit fully.  You were hovering, your hand on the headboard, biting your lip, unsure. He tugs on your soaked panties. 

“They’re sticking to you, you might have to get new ones.”

You chuckle, repositioning yourself and allowing him to pull them further to the side, your lips bare to him, your clit peeking through your folds, pulsing in anticipation. 

“Are you sure?”

His head adjusts on the pillows, he nods.

“Yes, I am.”

His fingers, thick with his gloves, breach your slit, circling over the rim, flicking over your clit. Your fingers tighten over the wooden headboard, you hold in a moan. He looked to be getting impatient, his hands moving to your hips after a while, making your knees involuntarily buckle with the way he plays with your pussy. 

“I’m not going to… crush you?”

He makes a sound of annoyance.

He had read Mando well. He had inherited his lack of patience it seemed. He made you sit, pulling you down, already moving you to grind against his vizor before you could think to do it yourself.  Your thighs tremble from the cold of the sides, your clit bumping against the ridge of where the dark glass and metal meet.  It was just like you imagined, a little colder and a little rough but once your slick had spread along the front it had felt heavenly.

“You have such a pretty pussy.”

It rumbles, his voice makes the helmet vibrate.  It must have been the modulator.  Your eyes roll to the back of your head, you clench uncontrollably, grinding harder than before.  He helps you, slotting his arms around your hips, pushing and pulling when you feel as if you couldn’t move your cramping legs.  He praises, talking to keep you stimulated.

“Clenching around nothing, look so tight, mesh’la. Can’t wait to have you on my cock.”

Your moans and gasps fill the room, he grunts on occasion, humming whenever you have stopped to catch your breath.  His hand suddenly squeezes up to your breast, pinching your pebbled nipples, making you cry out from the slight pain.  

You haven’t touched yourself in a long while and Mando has been turning you on almost every day. 

Embarrassingly quickly, you cum, grinding furiously, making your clit bump against the ridges of his helmet.  You lose yourself from this point, you couldn’t and didn’t know where reality and your own creation began or ended.  This was Mando and you had fully succumbed to your ruse.

Lifting yourself off you sit beside his head, trying to steady your breath, moaning in the aftershocks of your orgasm and watching with diligent eyes as he rises up to his knees. His thumb caresses the underside of your knee, pressing into the sensitive part of your skin.  His helmet was covered in your slick, a sticky mess on his vizor. 

“Cyare, get on your back.”

He grunts, “mmh, good girl.” He slots his thighs against the back of yours, your calves mid air. His cockhead teases you, his knees rocking so that it catches on your opening but doesn’t go further. It has been years since you’ve had anyone. Ever since you joined the Mandalorian in his quests. 

“Please just-“

You wanted to cry out in frustration, but he was strong and his body was on top of yours like a block of stone.  You could only shift your hips and wrap your arms over his shoulders, tugging at his cowl in anticipation.

“Anything you’d like me to do, I’m here to please you, sweet girl.”

He buries his head on your shoulder, once again teasing you, urging you to ask for more, to beg for it.

“I-I want you to breed me.”

He had a database of almost everything in the galaxy, he knew a lot about Mandalorians and their culture.  It was easy to adapt parts of it to make the experience that much better.  His goal was to make you feel good, and you had requested to be sated by a Mandalorian. He’d give you just that.

He holds your body close so that you wouldn’t shift so much in bed, his hips slam into you ruthlessly, pounding the breath from your chest, making you squeal. His cock was so lifelike, so warm and girthy and his body on top of you was almost suffocating. 

“Breed you full of warriors.”

You let out a moan, your back arching and your breasts pressing up onto his chest plate.  The cold stiffens you, it makes you twitch. You couldn’t stop the sounds coming out of your mouth.

“Oh-Man-do-”

He moans, his hands gripping you tightly, as if he couldn’t get enough of the way your cunt sucks him in.  Suddenly his head lands heavily on the pillow beside your head, he slows achingly.  His voice sounds ruined, his moans and grumbles held back but ultimately failing.

“N-need to fill you up. Need to last longer.”

You bring your foot under his thigh, using it as leverage to flip him over.  He lands with a bounce, his hands on your hips. You looked crazed, your eyes so blown they were almost pitch black.  You sink into him, knees on either side of his waist, eyes closing from the immense pressure from the new angle.

“Beautiful, strong girl, need to fill you up with my seed.”

Lights seem to dim, you were in the cockpit, arms wound tight around his shoulder, and grinding. You’d keep him warm, your cunt tightening as he drives the ship. He’s swatting your ass, grabbing a handful and jiggling it whenever you distract him. He would be aching for you to move.

“Bounce on my cock, take it.”

And you do, your chest grazing his vizor with each thrust, your breaths coming out in puffs. It felt like your cervix was bruising, his cock spearing into you.

His thumb rubs against your clit, at times pinching. You close your eyes so tightly you see stars, you feel them in your gut, festering and building, gaining momentum with the feel of his armor, his gloves, the sound of his poorly contained moans.

It almost burned, you couldn’t breathe. You cum so hard your whole body ceases movement and locks up, wetness making a squelching sound between you both as he continues to thrust up.

He whines, whimpers, and his head falls back. It sounds like he sighs in pain.

He cums, cums so much you almost feel bloated. It was thick and spilling over the sides of his cock, accumulating over his still pulsing balls.

You open your eyes, his hands running up your sides, his breaths making his chest rise and fall exaggeratedly.

He cups your jaw.

“You are so beautiful, cyare.”

You squirm under his gaze, his gloved hand caressing over the apples of your cheek. His cock softened inside you, you moan when he adjusted under you, sitting up against the headboard, pressing deeper.

“Thank you…” you murmur, not quite sure what to do, much less say.

“The most beautiful woman in the galaxy.”

You chuckle awkwardly, he attempts to pull your head closer to his. To bump into his. You know what it meant, it means something special for Mandalorians, something Mando never does with you.

You don’t think he ever will.

“Stop.”

You should have just told him to be quiet, to shut the hell up. He kept up with the praises, saying things you knew weren’t true. At least not to the real Mando. The shame and embarrassment was rising within you again, the haze of your mind clearing all too quickly. This wasn’t him, this was just a puppet being told what to do by its coding.

His hands move to your hips, caressing soothingly, squeezing your skin lovingly.

“Want you to have my children, sweet girl, to be part of my clan.”

You scoff, pushing his hands away, leaning back so that his leaning head wouldn’t meet with your forehead.  He continues, his hands traveling to your overstimulated clit making you jump and hold in a whimper, the other was at your breast, cupping its weight as if he were analyzing your body.

“I need you, just let me take care of-“

You shake your head, furiously.

“I said stop it.”

His hands stop, body slumping to the headboard.  His voice becomes monotone again, still Mando’s but more robotic. 

How could you forget?

“Why? It’s my job to flatter you, that’s what you paid for.”

What you paid for… It circles through your mind repeatedly, all in Din’s voice. This is what you paid for, to feel something with him, to make believe if only for a night. The tears fall before you even notice your eyes blur and despite feeling horrible about yourself, you still lean into his touch, his quiet whispers to calm you down.

“I am sorry if I had said anything to offend you.”

You ignored it, he wasn’t really sorry, you're sure it didn’t even have emotions, it was just reading your behavior, translating it to whatever circuit brain it had and doing what it was programmed to do.  The gentle rub on your back helped though, the way he lifted up the soft and heavy comforter over you made you sigh and finally close your eyes from exhaustion.

“It’s never accurate.”

You hum in question, gripping your welder, and lifting your shades. He stands a few feet away leaning against the ship, his arms crossed. He looks down on you.

“It's a small repair… doesn’t need to be accurate…” you mutter, irritated by his implication of your welding and ship repair skills.

He shakes his head and steps closer, gesturing for you to drop your tool to the ground. You do.

You look away, feeling your body go hot at the sight of him nearer. You choose to ignore his sudden conversation, he’s been acting weird lately, more talkative than usual.  You purse your lips, shaking your head and arching your brow. 

“I’m busy Mando, what are you even on about?”

He sighs.

“There’s always something off, a birthmark, the curve of your nose, your eyes…”

A long pause, your face starts to fall and your eyes widen. You calm yourself with the thought that he couldn’t possibly know, that he was just being cryptic or he had ingested some drug that got him thinking crazy. 

“What?” you blurt out. 

He liked to tease, you first saw it when he hunted, how he made them nervous, staring at them, knowing that they knew they were his next prey.  He stares at you, his hands unfolding, moving to his hips and leaning closer.

“Why do you think I stop in Coruscant every few weeks?”

You look on mortified, mouth agape.

“My blaster was on the wrong side, mesh’la.”

You step back when he starts closing the distance between you both.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about-“

“Your hips were right,” he chuckles lightly, “I measure to make sure your body is precise.”

The look of confusion and shock amuse him. He corners you against the side of the hull, pressing on until your back is flat against the metal panels.

“It started off as a one time thing, and then I wanted it again, and again and again… it’s an obsession to make that thing as accurate to you as possible. I’m sure you would have gotten through the process too.”

Your breath stutters, some part of you was delighted, another mortified. His hands twitched to your face, leaning forward until his helmet almost met your head. Your heart races, you shiver at his implications. 

“What process?” you sputter out.

His head tilts down and up again. Predator.

“I know every inch of your body, mesh’la.”

He taps his vizor, the side of the helm.

“I take note of every little thing you do even if you think I’m not there. When you said you wanted me to breed you it took everything in me not to storm in and do it myself.”

Your gaze was fixed against his shoulder, your body warms at the thought of him watching everything.  He must have seen you break down too. You cringe, closing your eyes tightly, refusing to believe any of this was happening.

“But I’m no hypocrite, I let you have your fun.”

This was wrong, what he was doing was wrong. Spying on you, watching you when you thought you were alone. His hand grips your forearm, tightening when you refuse to look up. When you finally do he connects his head to yours, your eyes stuck in the pools of black, unable to look anywhere else. 

Would you have gone that far? To start recording his every interaction, wanting to perfect an AI to be exactly like him. Who knows… you might have gathered enough credits again, visited the brothel and came in with new material.

The droid was a bit off, you’re sure you would have done something to fix it.

His helmet was spine chilling against your head, he leaned down, his hands smoothing down your sides and squeezing as if he couldn’t believe he was finally touching you the way he wanted.

“Didn’t think you’d want me the same way I do you…”