nightmares & daydreams

Estelle. she/her. 26. Star wars fan. 18+ blog.

[pinkiemme]

TRICK'S FACE, EXCUSE ME WHILE I FAINT (and draw him)

[onemass]

tbh I got addicted, now everything I see your requests are open I NEED to ask for something😭

So I’ve been thinking about Gregor lately, and I think that he’d love Twi’leks. My guy totally loves those head tails and funky skin colours and markings. And I’ve been thinking about Gregor seeing Twi’lek!reader naked for the first time.

Tho, go extra freaky or sfw entirely. It’s up to you but please do no inbetween, both are good😛

lots of love as always😗

All Night

Gregor x twi'lek!reader

Description: Smut. Gregor sees you naked for the first time and gets needy

Warnings: NSFW 18+

Gregor had always had a thing for twi'leks, but as he sat on the edge of the bed, watching you slowly strip out of your clothes, he decided that describing what he felt as "a thing" was the biggest understatement of his life. You were trailing your hands teasingly over your colorful skin, exposing more as you slowly eased out of each piece of your clothing, and Gregor was struggling to keep his hands to himself.

"Look at you," he groaned, unable to resist pressing his palm down against the bulge in his blacks. "Always knew you were stunning, baby, but kriff. Sure you don't wanna let me help you out of those clothes?"

You laughed quietly, trailing your hands along your newly exposed chest. "Oh, I can manage," you retorted teasingly, your hands slowly going back down to trace your waistband. "I think it's more fun to take my time, don't you?"

Gregor groaned again as he cupped and squeezed his erection through his blacks, trying to give himself some relief. "You're killing me," he rasped, eyes blown. "Please, sweetheart. C'mere."

You finally let the last of your clothes pool at your ankles, and raised an eyebrow at him. Before you had a chance to speak, though, Gregor apparently decided enough was enough. He slid off the edge of the mattress and dropped heavily onto his knees at your feet, his broad hands instantly finding your hips.

"Kriff, you're perfect," he rasped, tilting his head up to drag his eyes up your body to your face. "There's so much I wanna do to you I barely know where to start."

You chuckled, threading your fingers through his hair and tugging lightly. "Good thing we have all night then, hm?"

Gregor groaned, leaning forward to press his face against your stomach, his hands tightening on your hips. He started dragging kisses down the soft skin of your abdomen and then down to your thighs, sucking soft marks into your skin until you trembled slightly.

"Gregor…" you gasped, your fingers tightening in his hair.

He just hummed lowly against your skin before burying his face between your thighs, groaning as he pressed hot, messy kisses all over you. His hands drifted around your hips to cup your ass, squeezing hard.

"You taste unbelievable," he mumbled against your skin, his breath hot against you, his tongue dragging against you until your knees almost buckled. Gregor took that as a sign, and abruptly stood up, his hands sliding to the backs your thighs as he picked you up with him. He took the few steps back to the bed and fell back onto the mattress, pulling you down on top of him.

"Better?" he grinned up at you before cupping the back of your neck and pulling you down into a deep, messy kiss before you could even think to respond. He kissed you hard, his hands roaming over every part of you he could, his hips rolling up beneath you in a hard, desperate grind.

He eventually pulled back just enough to catch his breath, his hands squeezing your hips as he guided you to grind down against him. He looked up at you, eyes flicking over your body, and moaned at the sight.

"Think I've dreamt about this before," he rasped, groaning as you rubbed against him just right. He finally released your hips to yank at his blacks, pulling them down just enough to free his aching cock. "Can't take another second. Please. Please."

You looked down at him, breathless but very pleased as you rested your hands flat against his chest. "Are you begging me, Gregor?"

He let out a raspy, shameless laugh, his hips twitching upward to grind his cock against you. "Yeah, baby. I'm begging." He squeezed your hips, making you lift up a little. "Please. Ride me. Use me however you want-- just get that gorgeous body on my cock before I lose my kriffing mind."

A smirk tugged at your lips as you pushed one of your lekku over your shoulder and leaned back to grip his cock, positioning him at your entrance. You slowly sank down on his thick length with a moan until you were flush against his hips. Gregor gasped, his eyes rolling back as his head hit the pillow.

"Kriff…yeah, just like that," he groaned, his hands gripping your thighs as you started to roll your hips.

"Look at you," you whispered, sliding your hands up his chest as you leaned down, still rolling your hips against him. "This what you wanted?"

"Hah-- yes," he panted, snapping his hips up to meet every one of your rolls with a firm, desperate thrust. "Just-- hah, yeah. Just keep going. Just like that, baby. Kriffing-- you better not stop."

You let out a shaky, breathless moan as you rode him. "Not planning on it."

Tag List:

@nonooos-stuff, @limousinecatblog, @forcesavetheclones, @blackdreamwarmachine, @pabukaycf99, @fori-the-fool, @ariadtmf, @clonesquadron, @lesbowritesstuff, @advertingpizza, @kristal-star, @lightsaber16, @bloodmoon-bites

[cloned-eyes]

Commission done for @valkeakuulas starring the grumpiest and hottest Commander of the GAR

[keiosity]

I need a minute | Captains and Commanders

SUMMARY: Insanely attractive things they do that never fails to fluster (and ruin) you. Inspired by a TikTok trend.

CONTENT: Established relationships. Contains both SFW and NSFW parts!

INCLUDES: Cody, Rex, Wolffe, Fox, Howzer, Gregor, Mayday

────────────── ★ ───────────────

CODY

Makes a little crooked grin when he makes you smile and laugh, or when he teases you. Raises his eyebrows too the moment you sass him, both amused and challenged by your behavior. Obi-wan trained him well enough to retort a few clever comebacks in return.

Tucks your hair behind your ear then meets your gaze with a soft smile. It was an accident at first, which caused both of you to pause and stare at each other. When you don't pull away, he begins to do it more often until it feels completely normal now.

Always takes you to the most beautiful spots he knows because he knows how much you love the scenery and sunset/sunrise. Also, he has your caf memorized and makes it perfectly well after telling him how to make it once.

Hums a soft tune under his breath when he notices you sleeping against his shoulder. Also wraps an arm around yours to keep you tucked under his chin, and pretends he doesn't see the way your lips curl in your sleep at the sound of his heartbeat.

Random compliments throughout the day. “Look so pretty right now, mesh'la.” “You doing okay, beautiful?” “Thank you, sweet girl.” “That's my girl.” He's sparse with them in public, but he always reserves them for you.

— NSFW

Locks eyes with you from across the room, while he takes a sip from his drink, gaze dark and heavy over the rim. When he's lowering his drink, he makes sure you see the way his eyes drift low down the length of your body. And when you do the same? He raises a brow, then flicks his eyes towards the exit.

Steadies your footing from behind when you stumble, palm grazing your lower back, before whispering low and deep in your ear. “Careful there.” or “Watch your step now.” in that tone you know he uses inside the bedroom.

Hair pulling. Wraps your hair around his fist or threads his fingers through them then pulls. Not to hurt you, but just enough for your head to lift from the pillows so he could hear your cries better. You actually taught him how to do it properly, and since then, he finds any opportunity to do it.

Title kink. It drives him absolutely insane when you use his rank in bed. Sometimes, he reminds you to use it. Other times, you do it willingly. Just hearing the word “commander” while you're breathless beneath him has him fighting all sense of control.

He's rarely pissed, but when he is... Jaw clenched, eyes narrowed, tense and incredibly still, and his voice is controlled yet strained when he speaks to you. Sometimes, you purposefully rile him up just to see him like that because he looks hot. Just know your actions have consequences ;))

REX

Looks at you when you're not looking back, and it's like he's seeing stars for the first time. If only you could see the way his eyes shine and how he melts when looking at you.

But if you catch him, he quickly averts his gaze away. Clears his throat to cover his embarrassment, makes a completely random comment about the day, only to glance back and see you smiling at him knowingly—which makes him even more flustered.

Calls you terms of endearments every time in every tone and mood. Using your name feels foreign ever since you started becoming close. And now, he always calls you a mix of Basic and Mandoan endearments.

His voice softens completely when he's speaking with you. A different kind of softness compared to Ahsoka. With her, he's like talking to a younger cadet—a sibling—and his firmness never really leaves. But with you? Oh, he's a little out of breath and completely in awe.

Compared to his brothers, it's more obvious to see the visible flush on his cheeks. But the thing is he's not even aware of it. Especially when you're around and he's trying to keep himself composed with so much effort, so you try not to embarrass him even more by not pointing out his reddened cheeks and ears.

— NSFW

Oh, he'll never tell you this, but seeing you in control at times makes his sooooo weak. When your tone gets a little firmer and your face morphs into a serious expression, he gets restless for all the wrong reasons. Just pretend you don't notice him adjusting his armor multiple times.

Not as bad as Cody, but hearing you refer to him as “captain” or “sir” in bed is another guilty pleasure. He doesn't want you to feel pressured to use them, but Maker does it sound so good falling past your lips.

LOVES it when you're straddling him down on bed or on the couch. He leans back, meets your gaze under half-lidded eyes, and runs his hands along your thighs. The moment you press down against him and grind, he's gripping your hips and doesn't hesitate to help you move faster.

He's both an EATER and a FEEDER. When he's eating, he's thorough and ravenous. Reads your body language like a map, never takes his eyes off of your face, and smiles against you when he feels your legs shaking. When he's feeding you though, he's much gentler. Doesn't push you down or grip your hair, he lets you control the pace while he watches. The best he could do is roll his hips to signal you, you can take it, while muttering praises under his breath.

Another secret guilty pleasure of his is when you're wearing his top, his blacks more specifically, with nothing underneath. Just seeing your legs bare and marked the next morning has him already hungry for another kind of breakfast that isn't what you're cooking.

WOLFFE

Runs a hand down his face while sighing, cursing, or muttering something under his breath. It always has you pausing in your step just to stop and stare (and listen), and you'd flinch the moment he notices you standing there.

Always packs a spare ration and water for you in case you ran out of any. Automatically volunteers to keep watch of the perimeter so you can get some rest, and steps in front of you when there's danger or if there's someone making you uncomfortable.

Somehow, he's always there at the most convenient (and inconvenient) times. Almost as if he secretly memorized your schedule and just pops out of nowhere. And when he's there, he lingers longer than strictly necessary. Doesn't talk much, but his close proximity and gaze are enough to say everything.

Following that, he stands closer to you, even when it's just the two of you and ESPECIALLY when it's crowded. Finds any and EVERY opportunity to be by your side (like a loyal loth-wolf). He uses “for your safety” as excuses at first, but then they sound less like excuses and more like chances as time passes.

Pretends not to care, when in fact, all the things he's doing are things he won't easily do to others. He's a little less on edge when you're around, he doesn't hesitate to carry your belongings despite your protests, and he has more patience with you than anyone else (aka a secret soft spot for you).

— NSFW

Has a possessive/jealousy streak. When you gather attention from other people, he's okay with that since he knows they're just strangers. But around his brothers? Oh, his composure cracks ever so slightly when he sees them getting all touchy or too close.

Brat taming. It's just so natural to him. When you're acting out of line or when you've done something that went directly against his order, he won't hesitate to correct your behavior—by making you apologize and realize your mistake after hours of being edged.

Purposefully grips your hips tighter so he could see the marks he left behind the next time. Bonus! He gets a little (a lot) proud when he sees you stumbling and shaking after a rough night.

Tracks your movements from across the room with his eyes, never truly leaving you out of his sight. He knows damn well how much his gaze affects you. He purposefully lets it linger in other places, and makes sure you SEE it.

When he's a little rougher in bed, he loves to overstimulate you until you're unable to talk. The only sounds you're making are broken gasps, breathy pleas, and poorly coherent sentences. When he notices, he gives a little smirk and says, “Talk to me, mesh'la. Is this what you want?”

FOX

Always asks what's wrong even before you say anything. All it takes is one look. His intuition is strong enough to sense something was off with just a glance. Especially when it comes to those he cares about. And when it comes to you, he's more attuned and attentive compared to anyone else.

His smoky laughs and low chuckles. He doesn't laugh often, his laugh isn't even loud to begin with unlike his brothers', but when he does, it's deep and rich that it rumbles through you and makes you feel warm.

He's cautious when he sees you handling dangerous weapons, quickly taking them away from your hands or gently guiding you how to properly use them. He uses this opportunity to stand closer, voice softening into an almost intimate tone, while his eyes never stray from your face or hands.

When he's reading reports, he wants you as close to him as possible. He'll make you sit beside him (sometimes on his lap if the hour is late), so he could hold your hand, trace your knuckles, or rest his chin on your shoulder.

He's still so formal and polite even when you're already together. Old habits die hard and they consist of opening the door for you, calling you “ma'am” in public, guiding you through the crowd with his hand on your lower back, and using his elbow as an anchor for you to hold on to.

— NSFW

Ownership kink. Goes absolutely feral when he sees bite marks on your skin—your neck, chest, thighs, throat—anywhere only he gets to see. Bonus! If he could see one peeking through the top of your collar or when the hem of your dress just rides up a bit, he'll stay silent for the remainder of the day thinking about putting more of those later that night.

^^^ He has a habit of pressing down on them while they're still fresh. You could be on top of him, lost in pleasure, when the sharp sting of his thumb where his previous mark blossoms makes you falter. It's both pain and pleasure, and he never gets tired of the look on your face when he does it.

You joked about wearing his helmet while in bed, and he goes deathly silent. Every now and then, it's a recurring fantasy of his. He doesn't vocalize it however, only until he comes out of the shower one and sees you actually wearing it. Nothing else. Let's just say you slept through the next day thoroughly pleased and satisfied.

Loves to do it in front of a mirror. If he's taking you from behind, he'll grab you by your chin and force you to stare at your reflection. Commands you to keep your eyes open or else he stops, and he grins at the way they flutter close or rolls back whenever his thrusts turn a little sharper.

Blindfolds and cuffs. And red ones too.

HOWZER

When he wakes up, he doesn't immediately wake up. He searches for you in bed, still half-conscious, then pulls you closer to him while mumbling something in his sleep. He doesn't let you leave the bed for another hour, comfortably tucked at the crook of your neck.

Messy bedhair. Seeing his hair all ruffled from sleep is so unfair, because wdym he still looks so kriffing pretty even when his hair is a complete mess? And when he tries to fix it by running a hand through, he makes it look even better than before.

Very vocal. When he stretches his arms up, he does a little groan that ends with a ragged sigh. When he's concentrating, he mutters and mumbles his thoughts out loud. When he's distracted, he still answers you instead of staying silent. Like "hm?" "yeah?" "mhm" or "uh huh" and it sounds so deep, raspy, and good—hold me back.

He's such a gentleman. Polite, respectful, a little stiff when you first met him, but you immediately found him endearing because of his gentle mannerisms. He's very, very punctual as well. Never lets you wait for more than ten minutes, unless he specifically lets you know beforehand he might show up late.

Big on playful banter once he gets comfortable around you. He never passes up an opportunity to tease or engage in a debate with you.

— NSFW

Is actually down for whatever you want as long as you communicate your boundaries with him. Other than that, you're free to do whatever you want to him. Want him to get on his knees? Yes, ma'am, he's already down there. Want him under you? He's rolling you over so you could straddle him.

Accidentally confesses to you once that he used to think of you in ways that are definitely not appropriate. As a challenge, you dared him to say everything he's thought about. You expected he'd back out and dismiss it, until he takes a deep breath and confesses every single filthy thing that's been on his mind—doesn't break eye contact the whole time.

Heavily obsessed with the way you smell and feel. He'd bury his face in your neck and just breathe you in. When he's taking you from behind, he'd pull you up until your back is flush against him and burrow his face on your shoulder. "Fuck, you smell so good." "You feel so soft." "Can't get enough of you, Cyar'ika."

Slow and deep kisses. It makes him dizzy. It makes you breathless. It always starts innocent at first. Arms around each other, pressing closer, just feeling each other's warmth and savoring it. Until it gets hotter, deeper, and you're being pinned down while he climbs on top of you, chasing after your lips.

Eye contact. He adores the dazed gleam in your eyes when he's making you feel good. He wants to see everything that's happening. Your expressions, the way your body responds to him, the way you take him so easily the moment he slides right in—

GREGOR

Winks and grins at you from across the room. You know those kinds of grins that tell you he knows something that you don't? Like that. He'd even playfully raise an eyebrow at you while subtly checking you out.

Lets you crack his knuckles, and you let him do the same to you. It's kind of a secret love language he started at the start of your relationship. Now, he does it absentmindedly. He'd take your hands into his and just crack each finger gently, then he'd give his own to you and you'd do the same.

Updates you regularly when he's away. Most of the time they're completely random infos about his day, and sometimes it's him spamming messages saying how much he misses you and can't wait to get back.

Very expressive. Cannot for the LIFE of him hide his expressions. It amuses and annoys you at the same time how he doesn't even try to hide how he's feeling. If you can't get him to talk, just look at his face and you'd see your answer immediately.

When he leans down to hear you better, or better yet, when he pulls you aside to somewhere away from the crowd so it's just the two of you. He doesn't have to do all that, but he just wants an excuse to get you alone so he could have you all for himself.

— NSFW

Condescending praise. He'd be the most infuriating tease out there, and I just know it. He'd grin down at you when he sees you struggling to take him or when you're already too sensitive. He'd say shit like, "Awww, too much? But you can take more, right? C'mon, pretty girl, I know you can take more."

He intentionally grunts out loud while he's doing push ups. It's just him counting to a hundred, but you swear he does it to drive you mad because he knows damn well how much his voice affects you. It goes from steady, to rough, to breathy, to cracked until he's panting from exhaustion and he's struggling to get the next number out.

Wears his pants (and towel) low enough so you could see his prominent v-line and the tattoo of your name along his hip bone. He wears a cheeky smile every time he catches you checking him out, making his way towards the bedroom where he knows you'd follow him into.

Cheeky even inside the bedroom. He'd toss his head back, laugh breathlessly, and taunts you until you're begging for him. He's not afraid to bring a little humor in bed, especially when he's edging you.

Loves restraining you with his hands. Pinning your wrists above your head or behind your back, covering your eyes to block your vision, or clamping a palm over your mouth to muffle your sounds and noises when you're in a place someone could definitely find the both of you in.

MAYDAY

His pet names are so old-fashioned but they never fail to make you swoon. Calling you things like, little lady, my darlin', dove, sweet thing, my girl, pretty angel, lovely, precious, missy, and so many more. And when you're feeling a little mischievous, he fondly calls you trouble.

Always remember the little things. Something you told him once, and he still recalls it months later. A favorite food? He either learns how to make it or finds a way to get it. A childhood memory? He'd bring it up randomly when you're both cuddling. A mindless task you told him to do? It's already done even before you remember what it was.

When he's frustrated about something, he'll quietly walk off to gather himself before coming back and wrap his arms around you. He just needs time and space before he allows himself to properly talk.

Similarly to that, it's the opposite when you're the one frustrated. He'd calmly look at you, wait until you're finally ready, then slowly make his way over and embrace you in his arms. His principle is that you both shouldn't sleep off the problem and wait for the next day. He'd rather sleep with you in peace than apart with the tension still there.

He's soooo good with communication. He wants a healthy and dependable bond between the two of you. You're upset with something? Tell him immediately. When something's bothering him? He won't hesitate to bring it up and talk it through you.

— NSFW

Like the last one, he also talks you through it. "Don't push yourself if you can't anymore, darlin'." "C'mon, breathe for me. That's it." "Look at me, sweet thing. Need you to go slow for me, okay?" "Lift your legs for me. You're close, ain't ya?" "Atta girl. Knew you could take me well."

He's secretly down bad for finger sucking. When he's cradling your jaw while he kisses you, and you take his thumb into your mouth and suck? Oh, watch his eyes darken faster than a ship jump to hyperspeed. It becomes a habit now, and he does it almost every time. Especially when you're making too much noise, he slips two fingers into your mouth and asks you to be more quiet for him.

Expanding on that, he'd stroke your cheek first before trailing his thumb to your bottom lip. He tugs it down, just enough for you to slip your tongue through, then he's fully pushing his thumb into your mouth. After he's satisfied, he'd pull it out and continue his path down the line of your throat.

When he's deep inside you, he places a palm on your lower stomach and presses down. It has both of you gasping in pleasure, and he keeps the pressure there so you could feel every inch of him. Also, he secretly loves seeing the bulge pump in and out of you from the outside—wait, who said that?

Idk why, but I get the feeling this old man is secretly a freak and he just has a MASSIVE amount of self-control. Especially before you got together. You'd catch him with his jaw flexed, eyes closed, fists clenched, arms crossed, and gaze averted elsewhere when you do something to rile him up (accidentally or not).

[cafwbanthamilk]

i yearn to see more of my handsome muscular ‘captain traitor’ on my screen 😔

[zonkedorchid]

I thought we were friends ~ Bad Batch Hunter x reader

Description: You thought you and Hunter were friends until he pulls away suddenly. The truth is revealed during a mission. Gender neutral.

Words: 2.7k

Warnings: kissing, boner mention lol but no smut, 18+

Masterlist

Part 2

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You’re confused. You’re also hurt. 

Over the past few weeks, what you thought was your one of your closest friendships has been crumpling down. You had been accompanying the men at the demand of Cid due to the debt your family owes her. You were doing good as a bounty hunter in the outer rims, even created a name for yourself, but that was before your alcoholic and gambling addicted father tried to scam her during one of their deals. You wouldn’t have come back if it weren’t for your younger siblings.

You never expected to be paired up with a group of fugitive clones, but you certainly never expected to find companionship with their leader, Hunter.

At first, you two had only interacted with each other when needed. It’s not like you were mean, but there’s very few people you can trust in this galaxy. It wasn’t until Cid opened her big mouth about your family’s situation did Hunter offer you comfort in a conversation. You two connected over the stress of having to watch out for your siblings, and you knew Hunter was genuine as you watched him with his brothers and sister.

After that, you two had grown close. Conversations that were strictly business turned into stories of past adventures, inside jokes and even the future you dared to hope for. Hunter and you started to be paired up more on missions. That built your trust in him even more because he watched your back like he actually cared for you rather than him being worried that you would screw something up. 

Then one night, you two were having a casual conversation under the night sky. You came to relieve him from watch, but he insisted on staying up a bit longer because he wasn’t tired. You two were talking about something dumb, but you didn’t notice how close you two were sitting next to each other. Not until you felt his thigh brush against yours, which shot a jolt of electricity through you. You never noticed until that moment that his dark brown eyes had gold flecks in them. You also didn’t notice how close your faces got to each other until you saw him take the quickest glance down at your lips. 

Suddenly, the air felt like it was buzzing with energy, and you knew something was going to happen. You just didn’t think that something was Hunter pulling away completely and avoiding eye contact. He cleared his throat and murmured something about being tired before he stood up and left.

He left you there with a want you hadn’t felt before until then. You caught yourself wondering if he was going to kiss you, how it would’ve felt if he kissed you, and why didn’t he kiss you?

You chalked it up to it being the heat of the moment, but it didn’t help the deflated feeling in your chest… because you were self aware enough to admit that you wanted him to kiss you. You never got romantically involved with any of the individuals you worked with in the past – too messy, you would tell yourself. With Hunter though… it was something that came naturally, and there was nothing you could do about it. You weren’t going to try to pursue these feelings, especially since you knew Hunter didn’t feel the same. You just didn’t expect him to pull away completely.

He stopped engaging in the jokes you would throw his way. Any conversation you would try to have with him were answered with short responses. Eventually, the conversations went from warm and meaningful to cold and professional. Whenever you entered a room, especially if it happened to be just you two, he would quickly excuse himself, saying that someone needed his help.

It shouldn’t have hurt you, but you made the mistake of letting him in. Yes, you had romantic feelings for him, but he was your friend first. You don’t have many of those, and now you have one less.

You tried to respect his wish for space, but you couldn’t help yourself whenever you subconsciously looked for him first in a room, even if he would avoid your eyes. Or the way your head would snap in his direction when you would hear his deep chuckle. Or how tense the room would feel during team briefings as you two stood next to each other. Even Omega had asked if you were upset with Hunter, and, of course, you reassured her that everything was fine.

Everything was fine until this mission. It was like any other mission – a high stakes information retrieval from a heavily guarded place. You and Hunter had been paired up, like usual, but this time, it was awkward. Hunter wouldn’t look at you, his answers were still short, and he was walking ahead of you farther than what was deemed safe, which is how you got into this mess.

You were watching Hunter’s back, but he wasn’t watching yours. One second it was you and Hunter, and the next, it was you and 10 guards with Hunter locked in the next room. You took out the guards with ease, while Hunter worked to override the locked door. Hunter managed to get the door open just in time as more guards started filing into the room. He took your hand and started running; you would’ve noticed the tingling in your hand at the contact if it weren’t for the adrenaline already rushing through your body. You didn’t know where Hunter was leading you both, but the twist and turns of the hallways seemed never ending. You had put enough distance in between you and the guards before Hunter was shoving you into a dark room. He punched the panel with his fist, and sparks flew as he ultimately deadbolted you guys into the room. You two stayed quiet in the dimly lit room as you listened to the guards running past the door.

It wasn’t until they were gone when you whisper-yelled, “Nice going. You locked us in here.”

Hunter looked at the panel that was very much broken before muttering, “Tech can help.”

“Need I remind you that Tech, Echo and Wrecker are on the other side of the building. Kriff, do you even know where we are?” you huff at him.

Hunter starts pushing buttons on his vambrace, ignoring your angry words. He wasn’t wearing his armor for this mission, so you saw the crease form between his brows as he focused.

“Tech, come in,” Hunter says into the device.

“I assume you are responsible for the alarms going off right now?” Tech snarkily responds. Hunter sighs before answering, “That doesn’t matter. I’m going to send you our location, and we’re going to need help getting out of this room. The locks aren’t working.”

“Aren’t working…? Tech skeptically questions.

“Hunter used his fists instead of his brain,” you shoot out, which makes Hunter send a glare your way.

“I see,” you hear Tech say. A few seconds of silence goes by until you hear Tech telling Wrecker to create a distraction. “I’ll be there soon,” Tech says before the communication is cut off.

You and Hunter are now standing in silence, and you don’t realize how small the room is until you try to take a step back from him. Your sides had been pressed up against each other, which is way more contact than you’re used to with him. You silently curse at the butterflies you feel in your stomach as you process the feeling of his body pressed against yours. You try to squirm to create more room between you, but all that does is irritate Hunter. You somehow manage to place yourself in front of him, chests inches from each other until he reaches out and grabs your waist.

“Stop moving,” he whispers with exasperation.

“I’m trying to give you more space,” you snap back.

“Well in case you haven’t noticed, there’s no space in here.”

“Yeah I have noticed, but I know you don’t like me near you, which is why I’m trying to move,” you spit as you meet his eyes. You can see Hunter’s shoulders tense at your words, and now you feel stupid. Your words were pathetic at best, but the weeks of building frustration and hurt had let the truth slip.

The moments of silence that follow feel crushing. You look away, suddenly finding the broken panel very interesting.

“That’s not true,” he murmurs, which makes your gaze snap back to him.

“Whatever, Hunter,” you roll your eyes and look away again. Hunter’s hands had never left your waist, which you become aware of when you feel them give you a slight squeeze. 

“You don’t understand,” he sighs.

Your face twists in angry confusion. “What don’t I understand? You flee the room whenever I’m there. You barely talk to me anymore. I mean, kriff, you even tried to switch places with Echo this mission!” Your volume getting louder with each word, which you catch and force yourself to take a deep breath. 

“I just… I just thought we were friends…” you whisper. Hunter says your name, but you shake your head.

“It doesn’t matter,” you try to dismiss it. You feel like you can hear the heavy thumping of your heart, so you know Hunter definitely can. 

“We are friends though,” Hunter finally speaks, but his tone is almost hesitant. 

“We’re not, Hunter, and that’s okay,” you try to argue, but without warning, he’s pushing his body closer to yours. You have nowhere to look but at him. A wave of warmth rushes through your body at the sudden close contact.

“Hunter…” you quietly squeak out.

“You’re right, we’re not friends,” he says with force. You open your mouth to say something, but he cuts you off.

“You just… you distract me…” he closes his eyes, like he’s trying to collect himself. You see his throat bob, a nervous swallow.

He opens his eyes, intensely staring right into yours, which makes your breath hitch.

“I hear you, I smell you, I always know where you are – and it’s not on purpose. I’ve never had this problem before, but you just overwhelm my senses.”

That last part makes you open your mouth to argue, but he keeps going, “I didn’t mean it like that. Yes, we were acquaintances, maybe friends, but somewhere along the way you became more than that. I just didn’t know it until-”

“Until that night,” you finish. His eyes slightly widen, and he nervously looks away, avoiding your piercing gaze.

“Yeah, that night,” he says, knowing you meant the one where you two almost kissed.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” you softly ask.

“I didn’t think it was a good idea,” he responds with defeat laced in his words.

“So you thought the answer was to avoid me?” you shoot back with a bit of frustration.

“It’s not that easy. Look, I know I hurt you, but I didn’t want to pull you into my mess. You’re only here for your family, and you certainly don’t need more trouble,” he says, returning the same frustration.

“You think you can make that decision for me? Hunter, I’m a kriffing bounty hunter. If anything, I’m putting targets on our backs just as much as you are. I understand you want to protect everyone, but you hurt me-” and you see his eyes soften with regret at your words. “-You’re one of the few people I trust in this kriffed up galaxy, and then you were just gone. I thought I did something wrong,” you say, as the familiar ache in your chest returns.

“You didn’t do anything wrong,” Hunter says quickly before he releases a shaky breath.

“I’m sorry,” he whispers, as he brings his hands up to your face. He cups your face so softly, but you can still feel the calluses on them. “I just thought I was doing what was best for you, but I hurt you… and I’m sorry.”

You stare at Hunter’s face for a few seconds. You notice the nervous twitch of his lip and the way his worried eyes dart in between yours, and it doesn’t take long for you to make up your mind.

“So, friends again?” you ask in a small voice.

He smirks before lowering his mouth to your ear and answering, “You weren’t ever a friend to begin with. You were more, are more.”

A small giddy smile finds its way onto your lips. You let out a soft laugh before whispering, “Are you actually going to kiss me this time?”

Hunter pulls back in surprise, but he quickly regains his composure. “Only if you want me to,” he murmurs.

“I do,” you respond immediately and a bit breathlessly. His lips twitch with amusement before he slowly leans in. His lips are millimeters from you, letting you feel his breath against your face. His eyes look to yours again, like he’s double checking, but you quickly close the gap. 

His lips are chapped, but you don’t care. You couldn’t care – not with the way he kisses you. It’s so gentle but intense. The kiss isn’t a peck. It’s a kiss built from months of yearning, especially on Hunter’s end. He leans into you, making your back hit the wall. Your lips part in surprise, and Hunter takes that as his chance to deepen the kiss. The kiss is so consuming – you can’t think of anything else besides Hunter, Hunter, Hunter. Your hands find their way into his hair, and the feeling of your nails lightly scraping against his scalp causes him to let out a loud groan.

You break the kiss with a giggle. “Hunter,” you warn, but the smile on your lips doesn’t reflect your seriousness.

He pulls you close into a hug, as he buries his face into your neck. “Sorry,” he murmurs, trying to calm down his rapid breathing.

“My senses… and you… just are a lot,” he tries to explain. You’re about to say something when something else catches your attention. Something’s poking you… something hard.

“Oh my god, Hunter,” you catch his attention. His head snaps up, and his eyes are scanning you for the problem.

Before he can ask what’s wrong, you laugh, “Are you hard?”

“What-” Hunter starts before he stiffens up. You see just the faintest blush appear on his non-tattooed cheek before he’s trying to peel away from you.

“I’m sorry, I just-” he starts, but you quickly wrap your arms around him, not letting him go any further.

“Hunter, it’s fine. I just didn’t think one kiss could get you so worked up,” you tease him.

“It’s why I couldn’t be in the same room,” Hunter says so quietly you almost miss it. He looks away from you as his blush grows more obvious.

“Are you serious?” you laugh louder than you should. Hunter opens his mouth to speak but no words come out. He shakes his head, indicating he gives up.

“I’m flattered,” you joke, but all he does is groan in embarrassment. 

“Just… just come to my side. I can’t have you in front of me like this,” he pleads with you.

“What if I say no?” you practically purr. His eyes shoot to yours, and you can see a storm brewing in his usually gentle eyes.

“Because if you don’t, Tech is going to see a lot more than you or I would like,” he growls.

Now you feel like you’re on fire, and you can’t find any words to return. You start to move to his side when you hear mechanical sounds coming from the other side of the door. Bright light rushes into the room as the door opens, revealing an unamused Tech.

“We must leave,” he says simply before turning and walking away. You start to exit the room when you feel Hunter catch your wrist. You look back at him to find a sly smile on his face.

“We’re finishing this later,” he murmurs, and with the hungry look he gives you, you know you’re in for it.

A smirk of your own forms before you answer, “I would hope so.”

[zonkedorchid]

Are we still friends? ~ Bad Batch Hunter x reader

Description: After the incident during last week's mission, you're left wondering where you stand with Hunter. Gender neutral.

Part 2 to I thought we were friends

Words: 2.0k

Warnings: pretty tame besides the handjob, 18+

Masterlist

Note: lowkey idk if I like this, but I promised y'all I would have it posted today. Maybe I'll rewrite it in the future idk.

───── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ─────

You feel his gaze on you again. It’s a feeling you’ve become familiar with over the last week. Ever since the incident in the closet, he’s been following you, but only with his eyes.

It pains you to say, but you and Hunter haven’t had any time together since then. There has been no time to figure out what is happening between you two or if anything is happening. It’s not yours or his fault because both of you know the priority is the team. However, that doesn’t mean you aren’t slightly frustrated at this stagnation of events. He’s right in front of you, and yet you can’t do anything. 

It wasn’t until this last mission did you see your chance;

Everyone was asleep in their bunks, except for Hunter who was in the cockpit. You quietly snuck out of the bunks and tiptoed towards the direction of Hunter. When you reached the cockpit, you could see him slouched over with his head in hands. For a second, you thought about leaving, but you know he has heard you by now.

Your assumption is confirmed when you hear a gruff, “What are you doing up?”

Hunter hasn’t looked up, but you can hear the exhaustion saturating his voice.

“Just checking on you,” you murmur, trying to keep your voice quieter for him. You get a hum in return, and you decide to go sit in the chair next to him. You look at his fatigued figure, and your chest aches at the sight.

“How’s your head?” you ask.

“Better,” Hunter answers, but the way he says it is unconvincing. You sit there in silence for a few seconds, contemplating if you should leave. You don’t want to overwhelm him and his senses anymore than they already are. He has told you before about his migraines after a mission, and you don’t want to be the reason it gets worse just because you want some time alone with him.

“You make it better,” his voice breaks you from your internalized debate.

“Huh?” you dumbly respond, not thinking you heard him right.

“I said-” he finally raises his head up to look at you, and his tired eyes find yours, “-you make it better.”

You stare at him in silence, your brain trying to conjure up a response. Unfortunately, all you come up with is, “Oh.”

Hunter chuckles at your reaction before leaning back. When he does, a few strands of hair fall away from his eyebrow, revealing a cut.

“You’re hurt,” you audibly note and automatically search for the first aid kit.

“I’m alright,” Hunter tries to reassure you.

But you have to argue, “Let me at least clean it.” 

Hunter smirks at your determination, “If it’ll make you feel better, mesh’la.” You’re not facing him, thankfully, otherwise he would see the way your eyes widen at the pet name. You’re not exactly sure what it means, but you’ve heard Wrecker say it once when he was flirting with the owner of a bakery. So, you assume it’s a good thing.

You try to ignore the butterflies in your stomach, but they seem to be fighting their own war. You put your attention back on the first aid kit before bringing a swab over to Hunter. Hunter, of course, is still smirking, clearly amused by your flustered state, but you ignore him. You carefully brush his hair to the side, while you stand over him. The position is not very comfortable for your back, but you don’t mind if it’s for Hunter. 

Hunter, however, does notice, mainly because of the slight grimace on your face. Before the swab can touch him, he takes your wrist and gently tugs you towards him. You’re not sure what he’s doing – not until you find yourself sitting sideways in his lap. He’s only in his blacks, so you immediately feel his body heat under your legs. Your cheeks are burning at the position, and you stare at him for a good moment, which prompts him to ask, “You okay?”

He may have asked if you, yourself, were okay, but the tone in his voice sounds more like a “Is this okay?”

“Yeah, I’m good,” you finally squeak out. You blink a few times before returning to the task. You’re so close to him, you can see every miniscule scar on his face, and your heart clenches at the thought of everything he has had to go through. You don’t realize you were staring until you feel his large hand gently squeeze your waist. You meet his mischievous brown eyes, but neither of you say anything. 

You quickly clear your throat and finally start cleaning his cut. Hunter lets out a grunt at the first contact, which makes you pull it back.

“It’s okay. You don’t have to be so gentle,” Hunter says, which causes your eyebrows to scrunch in reluctance.

“I want to be gentle for you,” you whisper. You can see something in Hunter change. You can’t exactly pin point it, but you can tell what you said did something to him by the way his throat bobbed.

You return your attention back to the cut and finish cleaning it. Although, you were slightly distracted in the middle of it when you felt Hunter’s thumb start to rub little circles on your hip.

“Okay, I’m done,” you quietly announce. You lean back from his face, but you also make no move to get up from his lap.

“Am I going to make it, doc?” Hunter jokes in that deep voice of his.

“I don’t know… it’s 50/50 right now,” you return his banter.

“I know something that can make me feel better,” his voice somehow manages to get deeper. 

“Yeah? What’s that?” you return in your own hushed voice. He doesn’t audibly answer though. Instead, his eyes flicker down to your lips, which makes your breath catch in your throat. 

You find yourself subconsciously leaning in, but Hunter’s hand still finds your cheek. 

“This okay?” he huskily asks, only breaking eye contact with your lips to look into your eyes. You don’t even answer, and instead you connect your lips with his. His hand cupping your face, immediately pulls you closer – if that’s even possible.

The gentleness of this kiss only lasts for a few seconds until the hunger from both of you takes over. His slightly chapped lips move against yours, like they’re trying to claim you. The tip of his tongue teases your bottom lip, and you part your mouth to let him in. You’re so caught up in the kiss, you almost forgot you had to breathe. You pull back slightly to breathe, but Hunter continues his journey from your jaw to your neck. You let out a harsh huff of air when you feel him gently nip at your neck.

“Hunter,” you sigh as your hands find his hair.

“I’ve been waiting for this,” he says into the crook of your neck in between kisses and nips.

“Me too,” you hum. When you squirm on his lap to try to get closer to him, you feel something against your leg – something hard. 

“Hunter,” you chuckle, and his face finally withdraws from your neck. That smirk is once again on his face.

“Yeah?” he smugly inquires, but he already knows. You catch him off guard when you cup his bulge before giving it a gentle, but firm, squeeze. Hunter lets out a low moan, one that almost sounds like a growl. His eyes squeeze shut as his head tilts back to rest on the seat. You tease his cock through his pants, as you run your hand up and down his covered length. You feel his hips under you start to slightly rock with your movements. 

“Take it out,” you whisper. Hunter’s eyes shoot open to look at you before turning to look over his shoulder, presumably at the door. You think he’s about to say no, that you guys shouldn’t do this here, but suddenly, he lets out an unintelligible string of curses before lifting his hips up to pull his pants down slightly. His cock springs free, almost hitting his stomach. It’s flushed a deep red, and his tip is already smeared with his precum. 

You don’t even think twice before you reach out for it. You drag your thumb over his slit, which makes him hiss.

“Please,” Hunter raspily begs. And you show him mercy, as you slowly start to pump him. You only pull your hand away once to spit in your hand before returning it to his cock. Hunter’s breaths become heavier, and his head eventually finds your neck again in order to muffle his moans.

“Feels so good,” you hear him praise you at one point. He urges you to go faster, and his hips start rocking more aggressively. You would’ve been worried about falling off his lap, but his grip around your waist was tight. 

The lewd slick noises were filling the quiet cabin of the Marauder. Anyone could have walked in, but neither you nor Hunter cared at the moment. You both had waited for each other long enough.

“Gonna come,” he warns you. He captures your lips in another heated kiss, groaning into your mouth. You focus on his sensitive tip, giving it a few twists of your hand before Hunter comes all over his shirt and your hand. He’s panting into your mouth, while his eyes remain closed. You carefully release him before kissing the side of his mouth.

You give him a few moments to collect himself before you snuggle into him. His other arm wraps around you, pulling you close to him. It’s a few more moments before his breathing returns to a somewhat steady rate. 

His hand finds the back of your head, cueing you to look at him. He presses a tender kiss to your lips before whispering, “Thank you.”

You quietly chuckle before joking, “You’re more than welcome. If you ever want to do this again, you know where to find me.”

Hunter regards you for a second, his face not giving away what he’s feeling, but you had the feeling like you said something wrong.

“You know I want more than that… with you, right?” he murmurs.

The butterflies in your stomach suddenly erupt again. Hunter, however, continues, “I know we haven’t had any time together recently to talk, and I really enjoyed this. Like a lot. But I want more of you… all of you if that’s okay…”

A big smile breaks out on your face, and you don’t hesitate to answer, “Of course that’s okay, Hunter.”

A smile that could rival your own appears on Hunter’s lips. 

“Only if that means I get all of you too,” you say.

“You already had me,” Hunter returns with an affectionate gleam in his dark eyes. Your brain goes silent at his sweet words, and you’re worried you were silent for too long but Hunter is already speaking.

“Let’s get that hand of yours cleaned up.”

You somehow forgot about the sticky mess on your hand, but you nod your head in agreement. In the fresher, Hunter stands behind you as he helps you wash your hands. You insisted you could do it yourself, but Hunter said it was his job to clean you up — but really, he just wanted a reason to keep close to you.

Both of you return to the cockpit, and Hunter places you back into his lap again. You’re about to fall asleep in his arms when breaks the silence once more.

“I’m returning the favor when we get back,” he whispers into your ear before placing a kiss on your temple. 

“Can’t wait,” you sleepily tease, making Hunter nip at your neck again. 

“Sleep, mesh’la. You’ll need the energy.”

[tanobatcher]

commander wolffe grumpy x sunshine headcanons a/n: trying to beat the cliche allegations but i love this trope sm

gn reader warnings: none

grumpy!wolffe who acts like he doesn’t have time for your smiley bullshit, but his protective instincts switch on as soon as he catches your mood dwindle on an off day. his cold gaze studies you from afar, raising the question of what, or who, has you down like this. he’s unsure why he even cares when he finds himself trying to uncover the reason for your shifted behavior, a subtle change that you didn’t think anyone would notice. “you’re quiet today…” he says carefully, eyes flicking toward you as a soft, halfhearted chuckle slips through your somber expression. “hmm, i guess you got lucky this time,” you tease him, and for a moment, he sees the familiar warmth in your smile—a feeling he didn’t think he would miss until he experienced its absence. “you know i’ve got enough to worry about,” he murmurs. “since when are you worried about me?” you laugh, leaning up against the stiff bulge of his bicep so comfortably, so different from his averse nature to touch. but he seems to relax, softening his posture as he presses his mouth down on the top of your head, hesitant at first before applying more pressure. “you’d be surprised.”

grumpy!wolffe who knows your bubbly self can get along with anyone and everyone. he hates being reminded of this truth when he sees you laughing with someone else, someone who isn’t him. he doesn’t like conceding to his jealousy, but the feeling twists in his stomach as he watches your conversation unfold, glaring deeper and colder the longer it drags on. later he’s cuddling you extra tight in bed, his muscular arm wrapped around your body, and he stares down at you, eyes heavy-lidded and dark. his chest aches as he takes a fingertip to your mouth, slowly tracing the curve while you look up at him. “wish i could keep this smile all to myself,” he mutters. you giggle and tug him down by the chin, fitting your lips together in a soft kiss. “it’s all yours, wolffe…” you whisper into his mouth. he smirks and deepens the kiss, tilting his head to part your lips wider under his, eliciting a little gasping whimper from your breath. “good.”

grumpy!wolffe who doesn’t smile often, but he does with you. he shakes his head after you say or do something silly, drawing you close to kiss your forehead. “you’re cute,” he murmurs against your skin, the method he uses to hide the amused expression on his face. but, nonetheless, you always catch the curve of his lips, laughing as you lightly hit him on the chest and pull back. “oh, admit it, you think i’m funny, too,” you tease, beaming up at him so adorably that his heart starts to beat faster. he realizes he’s actually fucking nervous, something that doesn’t happen easily. sliding a hand down his face, he turns away and chuckles, “now you’re just fishing for compliments.” your arms come around his middle as you get in front of him, forcing him to look at you through the warm blush stinging his cheeks. “aw, look at you…” you stroke the side of his face, leaning up on your tiptoes to kiss him softly. “so pretty when you smile,” you whisper, your lips inches away. his hands find your hips firmly and squeeze. he rests your foreheads together. “just for you.”

grumpy!wolffe who would literally do anything to make sure nobody dims your light. “you’re not too much,” he says, cupping your face. he kisses the tip of your nose before brushing his against yours in a soft, affectionate nuzzle. “you’re just right.”

I LOVE MY GRUMPY BF WOLFFE :((((

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[tanobatcher]

physical therapy

wolffe x fem reader summary: sex is wolffe's favorite way to relieve his stress... warnings: sexual content a/n: i just need this man to rail the fuck out of me right fucking now

a bad day for wolffe is a good day in bed. he always walks around like there’s a dark cloud hovering over him, but sometimes, the entire storm rains down on you when he just snaps. he grabs your throat as he pounds into you, his long, calloused fingers almost covering your face as his grip on you gets messy. the pressure of his cock slamming through your tight, dripping walls deepens with every angry thrust. you spread your legs for him and sink your nails into his back, raking them down in a harsh drag that makes him hiss between his frustrated groans, panting and grunting like a dog in your ear. your bodies are tangled together in your warm bedsheets, rhythmically knocking the headboard back into the wall as he fucks you hard, but not sloppy, angling his hips so he hits your sensitive spot so good that you feel him all the way in your stomach.

“oh my god,” you moan. “oh, wolffe, i’m so close…”

his lips graze over your temple as he glares down at you, his temper still set ablaze from his shitty day. “yeah?” he breathes, dropping his forehead down against your cheek as you clench around his rough thrusts, taking him so good. “well, that’s too bad…” he rasps, “‘cause i’m still in a bad fuckin’ mood.”

you gasp and clutch him desperately, feeling the knot in your lower stomach coil like a snake. the heat inside of you yanks hard when he slams into you, and you’re arching your back with tingly stars crawling down your body. you cry out like you’re in pain, but it hurts so damn good as you tremble under him, your pussy fluttering around him. he doesn’t let you ride out your orgasm, still fucking you at the same rough pace, now sliding through you even faster because of how much more wet and stretched out you are for him. your clit pulses hard as you cling to his muscular shoulders, limp all over like jello. he bends your knees to your chest to hit you deeper, groaning, “fuck…ohh, fuck—” under his breath in a low, deep voice.

tears of pleasure corner your eyelids. “wolffe—it’s too much—”

he squeezes the hand on your face and kisses your cheek, leaving his lips to linger on your sweaty skin. “be good and take it.”

you turn your head to lock your mouths together, whimpering softly into the kiss he ravishes you with. his tongue slides over yours as he kisses you slow and dirty. you struggle to kiss him back through his harsh thrusts, just hugging him close, letting him fuck all his frustrations into you. you feel the burdens he carries in the heaviness of his body moving over yours; the pressure of your lips colliding together in between his hoarse grunts. you want to make it all go away for him, to kiss the bruises you can’t see—the ones that cover his soft heart and harden it into something crueler than he actually is. you moan into his mouth when another orgasm passes through you like the tide, rolling out as he fucks the rest of your energy out of you, leaving you sore and pulsing around him.

he only slows himself when he’s close, bracing his arms around your head to stare down at you, his gaze heavy-lidded while your eyes are closed from exhaustion. you hear him groan as he cums inside of you, leaving his cock lodged in your pussy even after you’ve milked every last drop of him. his forehead comes down on yours, and you blink up at him slowly, tickling him with your lashes. your cheeks are flushed, and your smile is sleepy but sweet when you stroke the scarred side of his face. he presses his mouth to yours, almost hesitating before parting your lips under his. you sigh softly as he caresses you with his tongue, reluctantly pulling away at the realization that you’re dozing off. you’re barely awake while he cleans you up and tucks you back into bed, your body weakly squirming toward him on his side of the messy sheets.

he cradles you in the crook of his arm, just holding you as you sleep, skin-to-skin the way he likes it. you find him still awake only a couple of hours later, his distant gaze trained up at the ceiling. then it flicks toward you and softens when you reach for him, gently running a finger down his cheek. he watches you, silent despite the many things he wants to say. but he’s never been all that good at talking about his feelings…

“sorry you had a bad day,” you whisper.

the apologetic guilt in your tone surprises him. he chuckles drily and rolls over toward you, trapping you in his embrace with a deep sigh.

“could’ve been worse.”

“mm,” you wrap your arms around him, “what would you do without me?”

he blows out a breath. “i don’t even wanna fuckin’ think about that.”

“good thing i’m not going anywhere…” you tell him lightly.

he smirks at this a bit and presses his lips to the top of your head.

“like i’d let you.”

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[ct7567329]

High Stakes

501st Week ~ Theme: A night at 79's

Pairing: Fives x F! Jedi Reader Summary: After a "lost" bet, you end up in a game of strip sabacc with you men at 79's Word Count: 4.7k Warnings: Alcohol consumption, Strip Sabacc, Implied Sexual Content A/N: I know very little about Sabacc. I did some research for this fic, but apparently there's over 80 DIFFERENT ways to play Sabacc?! Also, sorry for posting this a day late. I was away this week and when I got home I had no power :( join my taglist / masterlist / event masterlist thank you @summer-of-clones for hosting!

You should have never made that bet.

Around two rotations ago, you weren't surrounded by the chaos that defined 79’s. You were standing in the cramped hold of a gunship, annoyed that the 501st got pulled to help assist the 212th. The 501st was supposed to be heading to Coruscant for a few days off, but when Obi-Wan called for extra support, you knew your freedom was just pushed a little further out of reach.

"Hey, General," Fives’ voice crackled through his helmet. He was leaning casually against the hull, spinning one of his DC-17’s around his finger. "Tell you what. If I rack up twenty five headshots on these tinnies down there, you’re finally joining us at 79's. No excuses.'"

A small smirk tugged at the corner of your lips. Fives had been trying to get you to 79’s for force knows how long now. He’d certainly need more than a measly twenty five direct headshots to get you there. 

"Twenty five? Please, Fives. Anyone could hit twenty five," you countered, using the force to pull his other DC-17 out of his pouch. You began twirling his DC-17 around your finger the same way he was. "Fifty."

Across the hold, Jesse let out a bark of laughter, "Take it Fives!"

"Thirty five?" Fives offered quickly, his helmet tilting as he tried to bargain.

"Fifty," you repeated, crossing your arms over your chest, holding his gaze through the visor.

"Forty? Come on, General, be reasonable! The blast radius from the heavy weapons will steal half my kills-"

"Fifty, Fives. Take it or leave it."

Jesse had grinned under his helmet, bracing himself as the gunship took a hard bank to the left. "Hey, General! What if he doesn't get fifty? What’s in it for you?"

You looked Fives up and down, taking in his confidence. "When he doesn't get fifty, he has to remain completely, entirely silent for the entire transport ride back to Coruscant. Not a single word."

A chorus of “ohs” erupted from the rest of the troopers in the hold. Kix had actually clapped Fives on the shoulder armor. "Take the bet, Fives! Please, Force, take the bet. Do you know what a quiet transport ride would be like? It sounds too good to be true!"

Fives scoffed, staring down at you with an intensity you could feel even without the Force. "Fifty it is, then."

When the battle was finally over and the gunships came down to transport you back, Fives ran up to you, his armor covered in dirt, and aggressively ripped his helmet off. His hair was plastered to his forehead with sweat and a triumphant grin was across his face. “How about fifty two!”

You rolled your shoulders back, brushing dirt off your arms, “I kept a close eye on you Fives. I only tracked forty nine.”

"Forty nine?!" Fives stammered, pointing a finger at you. "Absolutely not! Ask Jesse! I had fifty two! Tell her Jesse!”

"It's true," Jesse confirmed, wiping sweat off his forehead. "The last few shots were beautiful too."

You leaned back against the outside hull of the gunship with your arms crossed, "Forty nine is not fifty two, Fives."

Fives’ smile instantly vanished, replaced by a look of betrayal. "Are you kriffing kidding me? Just one droid! A thermal detonator went off and took out the last of them before I could!"

"You snooze, you lose," you shrugged, "Forty nine is less than fifty. Which means," You made a sweeping gesture with your hand toward his mouth. "Silence."

The next four hours on the transport back to Coruscant was the most grueling torture Fives ever endured. He didn’t speak a single word, but he had used every ounce of his body language to complain. He stared at you with a dramatic pout. He sighed loudly through his nose. He aggressively cleaned his blasters while maintaining eye contact with you. When you broke for your quarters, he followed closely behind you. Against your better judgement, you turned to face him, put a finger over your lips, and allowed him to enter the room with you.

The moment the door hissed shut, Fives looked at you with eyes that screamed, “If I don’t get to speak right this instant, I will implode.”

You narrowed your eyes at him, shaking your head. This only forced him to be even more dramatic with his body language, throwing his head back in defeat. 

“Fine,” you finally broke the silence, causing Fives’ eye to blow wide in anticipation. “I'll give you the one droid margin of error. However, I still expect silence until we're on Coruscant. Understood?” 

And that is exactly how you ended up here.

You opted for wearing something a little more comfortable than your typical Jedi attire. Something about ripped black jeans, a black bandeau top and a sheer long sleeve top made you feel much more free. However, you could never escape the weight of your lightsaber at your hip. It was the last thing that made you really stand out as important in a room full of clones, but there was no avoiding it. 

"See? I told you it wasn't that bad," Fives’ voice cut through your thoughts, drawing you back to the present.

He was sitting next to you in the booth. In fact, he was so close that his pauldron nearly smacked you in the face every time he moved. He pushed a glowing drink toward you, keeping his hand on it until you took it from him.

"You survived the Battle of Jabiim, General," Fives teased, leaning his head down towards you so the music couldn’t drown him out.  "I think you can handle one night at 79's."

Across the table, Jesse and Kix slid into the booth, carrying a fresh tray of drinks and a metallic case that you recognized all too well. "Alright, clear the table," Jesse announced, throwing down the case and collecting empty drinks. "The others will be here in a second. It's time for Sabacc."

Hardcase ran up to the booth as Jesse swung the lid of the case open. "You ready to see how the real Republic operates, General?" Hardcace laughed, leaning across the table and rubbing his hands together.

"Don't scare her off, Hardcase," Kix groaned, sliding into the edge of the booth and immediately grabbing the dealer's deck. "We finally get the General to join us, and you're going to give her a headache before the first chip drops."

"Please," you chimed in, leaning your chin on your hand, deliberately letting your elbow brush against Fives just to see if he'd flinch. He didn't, which surprised you. "I’m sure I can handle a deck of cards."

"Oh, she’s confident," Jesse hummed, pointing a finger at Kix. "Deal 'em out, doc. Let's see if the Force can save her from a good ol’ game of 501st Sabaac."

Once the first hand was dealt, you carefully peeked at your cards. You had a decent hand, but nothing spectacular. You kept your face entirely blank, a trick you mastered during briefings with the Jedi Council.

Across the table, however, Hardcase possessed absolutely no ability to conceal his excitement. The moment he looked at cards, his eyes blew wide and a massive grin spread across his face. He looked down at his hand, then up at the pile of betting chips, practically vibrating with unearned confidence.

"Alright, alright," Hardcase boomed, tossing three chips into the center of the table. "Let's open up the stakes. I'm feeling lucky tonight. Who's matching?"

Jesse peeked at his cards, snorted, and threw his chips in. "You're an idiot, Hardcase. I'm in."

Kix folded immediately, shaking his head with a sigh that spoke of a man who spent entirely too much time patching up the consequences of his brothers' poor decisions.

Fives didn’t even look at his cards yet. His eyes were fixed on the side of your face, but the second you turned to face him, he finally glanced down, and tossed his chips into the center. "Yeah, yeah. All good here."

You said nothing and just slid your chips forward.

When the next card was placed down, Hardcase couldn't contain himself. He slammed his remaining chips onto the table, "I’m all in! Show 'em and weep, boys! I've got a pure run!" He flipped his cards face up on the table, revealing a total value of positive twenty two. 

"Not bad," Jesse smirked, slowly turning his cards over. "But I've got a negative twenty three. Idiot."

Hardcase’s jaw dropped. "What?! No way! The dealer rigged it! Kix, you cheated!"

"I literally just dealt the cards," Kix groaned, rubbing his temples.

Hardcase slumped back in his seat, let out a dramatic groan of defeat, and stared down at the empty space in front of him where his chips used to be. 

"Well, you know what that means, Hardcase," Jesse shook his head as he leaned back and crossed his arms. "House rules if you want back in"

You blinked, looking between Jesse and Hardcase. "House rules?"

Hardcase reached across his body and unclipped the straps of his chest plate, then slid it over his head, ditching it under the table. "Happy?" Hardcase grumbled, "Or are you just that excited to see my chest?"

Your eyes widened slightly as the sudden realization came to light. You were just dragged into a game of Strip Sabacc. At 79’s. With your own men. The heat of Fives' body next to you suddenly felt hotter. Your chest tightened slightly as you looked down at your own. Your sheer long sleeve top was the only thing keeping your outfit somewhat modest. If you lost a hand- 

Before the worry could fully settle into your chest, you felt Fives move next to you. His mouth came down so close to the side of your face that you could feel his breath against your ear. "Hey. You don't have to oblige. If you want out, just let me know. I’ll clear the table."

He was giving you an out. He was ready to throw the game just to make sure you didn't feel a single second of discomfort. You looked down at the cards in front of you, then back up at Fives. "Bold of you to assume I'm going to lose," you huffed. “I’ll stay.”

A smile began to spread across his face, as he let out an amused laugh. "Alright.” He pulled his head away from yours, but kept his shoulder pressed against you, "Don't say I didn't warn you."

For the next forty five minutes, the booth became a warzone. You didn't just hold your ground against your men, you absolutely decimated them. Perhaps it was unfair that they were playing against a Jedi. Every time Hardcase pulled a high value card, you could feel his excitement. Whenever Kix was trying to bluff, you could sense his heart rate spike. And Jesse’s confidence always flared right before he was about to make a terrible mistake. Sure, they were all horrible at physically hiding their hands, but you could have still dominated just as easy while  blindfolded if needed. You were just surprised no one pulled the “she’s a Jedi, that’s not fair” card yet. 

"I'll raise" you shrugged, tossing two chips into the center of the table without hesitation.

"Bold," Tup muttered under his breath, leaning over Hardcase’s shoulder. "She didn't even check her cards yet."

"She’s bluffing," Hardcase insisted, though the small twitch of his temple told you a different story. "She has to be. Nobody raises without looking at their cards unless they're trying to scare the table."

"Only one way to find out, boys," Fives chimed in, taking a long sip of what must have been his 7th drink. He checked his cards again and tossed his chips in. "I’m all in."

Jesse let out a low whistle, "All in? Against someone who hasn't even peeked at her hand? Hardcase, I take back what I said about you. Fives, you’re officially the 501st idiot."

"You’ve known her longer than me, Jesse. Come on. How do you not see this? She's pushing a weak hand." Fives gave you a confident smirk. "Show 'em, General."

Slowly, you flipped your cards face up on the table, revealing a perfect twenty three.

The booth went dead silent for a second before Hardcase erupted into laughter, slapping the table so hard the drink glasses rattled. "Twenty three?! She wasn't bluffing! She didn't even look and she got you!"

Fives’ expression flattened. He looked down at his own hand and let out a disappointed groan.

"Oh, how the mighty have fallen," Jesse cackled. "You went all in, brother. Pay up."

Fives rolled his eyes, a dramatic sigh rushing through his nose, "Yeah, yeah, alright. Don't get too excited," he grumbled, deciding what piece of armor to take off. He decided on the pauldrons. 

But just as he reached up, Jesse had more to say. “Remember, pauldrons don't count!” 

Fives groaned, cursing under his breath as he unlatched his pauldrons, then his chest plate. His arm and shoulder armor was removed from previous hands, leaving him in just his blacks. When he went to discard his chest plate and pauldrons, he paused, dropping only his chest plate and opting to put his pauldrons back on.

"Hey!" Fives threw his arms up in response to the look Jesse shot at him, “You said pauldrons don’t count.” He slumped back down next to you as Kix began dealing the next hand. “My luck’s about to change, I can feel it.” You didn’t respond. You just took a quick look at your cards and your heart dropped. Sixteen. Fives’ luck might be able to change but yours was not running slim. 

"You look tense, General," Jesse teased, sliding his chips into the center. "Rough hand?"

You held your breath. Sixteen was a dangerous territory. It was too low to win, but high enough that drawing another card might risk it completely. You kept your face completely expressionless, tossing your cards into the center of the table. "I fold.”

A collective cheer erupted from the table. Hardcase jumped, throwing his hands in the air. "The streak is broken! We got her!”

The  vibrant energy that was radiating from Fives for the last hour vanished in an instant. Beside you, his entire body went completely rigid. Before you could even think about reaching for the hem of your top, you felt Fives move. His hand came down over your wrist, grabbing you from under the table. 

"Seriously. Stop," Fives commanded, increasing the strength of his grip on your wrist. "You don't have to do this. I told you, house rules don't apply to you. If you’re not cool with that, I'll clear the booth right now. I mean it."

You looked down at his hand gripping your wrist, then looked back up into his eyes. You were a Jedi General in the Grand Army of the Republic. You didn't hide behind excuses. You gave him a smug, defiant smirk. "House rules are house rules, Fives.”

You firmly pulled your wrist from his grasp. Without giving yourself a moment to second guess the choice, your hands went to the hem of your sheer long sleeve top. Slowly, you slid the sheer  fabric up and over your head, draping the discarded shirt over the back of the booth. Underneath, you were left in just the black bandeau top. The fabric was snug, accentuating the toned muscles of your shoulders and collarbone.

The table went dead silent, except for one appreciative whistle piercing through the music. Fives’ head snapped toward the sound. His eyes narrowed into a venomous glare that could instill fear in anyone looking. The playful smirk vanished from the whistler’s - Jesse’s - face instantly.

Fives didn't even seem to realize he was doing it, but he lifted his right arm and spread it along the back of the booth right behind your head. He was digging his own grave, and he knew it. A possessive part of him was absolutely losing its mind at the thought of any other clone in the room catching a glimpse of you like this, but the hypocrisy of his own actions was torturing him. He found himself looking exactly where he knew he shouldn't - it was killing him. Every protective instinct told him to shield you, but every human instinct he had was screaming at the proximity. 

The heavy silence that blanketed the booth slowly began to fade, though the air was now charged with an entirely new breed of tension. Jesse was still playing bold, but his usual commentary became less frequent. Hardcase was fidgeting with his armor under the table, while Kix kept his focus on the center of the table, but more importantly, anywhere but you.

"Alright," Kix announced, “Hands are ready."

"I'll raise," Jesse hesitated, the confidence in his voice entirely gone. He tossed a single chip into the center, his eyes darting briefly to Fives’  before snapping back down.

"I'll match," Hardcase grumbled immediately, tossing a chip in. "I refuse to lose my pants to my general."

"Smart move," Kix agreed, checking his card and sliding them forward. "Fold."

You checked your cards again. "I'm raising," you said smoothly, tossing three high value chips into the pot.

"Damn," Jesse scoffed. He didn't hesitate, flipping his cards over. "Fold. It's all yours, Fives."

Fives didn't check cards before making a decision. He let out a long breath, his eyes finally dropping from a far wall to look at you. He looked at you, trying to read your face for anything on your hand before his gaze inevitably drifted down. He shook his head, snapping himself out of it before he looked at his cards. Twenty one. It was nearly perfect, but without a single bit of hesitation, he tossed his cards forward.

"I fold.”

You blinked, your eyebrows drawing together. "Wait a minute," you questioned, reaching across to grab Fives’ discarded cards. Before he could stop you, your fingers grabbed the edges and flipped them over, revealing a total of twenty one.  You looked up at him, completely bewildered, "You had a twenty one, Fives. Why the hell did you fold?"

Fives reached across the table and grabbed his drink, taking a long sip. "The liquor is hitting harder than I thought I guess," he lied dismissively as he rubbed the back of his neck. "Just an oversight."

"An oversight," you repeated, unconvinced. You narrowed your eyes at him, but before you could press him on it, Hardcase shoved a fresh hand of cards into your palm, demanding the next round begin. As you checked your cards, Fives reached down to grab the hem of his blacks. In one fluid motion, he pulled it over his head and tossed it onto the back of his seat.

Your eyes involuntarily dropped and then froze. Across his left pec was yet another ‘5’ tattoo. "I didn't know that was there," you pointed out, the words slipping out before you could filter them.

Fives paused. A smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth, saying his next words in a way that felt like they were meant for only you to hear. "There's a lot you don't know about me yet, General.” 

You opened your mouth to respond, but the click of chips on the table broke the moment. "Alright, boys! Let's see if the General's luck holds out," Hardcase called out, leaning over the table with anticipation.

You forced your attention away from Fives and back down to your cards. Twelve. Your luck completely plummeted. You could try to bluff your way out, but the boys were expecting that from you. Slowly, you laid the cards face down. “Fold.”

The reaction across the table was instantaneous. Hardcase let out a laugh, slamming his fist against the table. "She’s down" he cheered, reaching to sweep the discarded chips toward his side. "Finally! I knew the streak had to break eventually!"

Heat rushed up your neck as the reality of the stakes finally caught up to you. The only logical clothing left for you to shed was your ripped black jeans or your bandeau top. Your fingers hovered indecisively near your waistline. A sudden wave of hesitation paralyzed your hands, but before you could go any further, Fives lunged out of his chair. He positioned himself like a blast shield, his back to you, blocking you from the table and shielding you from the prying eyes of the squad.

"Alright, boys," Fives announced. The alcohol induced looseness he’s had all night was entirely gone. "I think that's enough Sabacc for the night."

Hardcase groaned loudly, throwing his arms back over his chair. "What gives, Fives? It was just getting good!"

Jesse, didn't join in on the complaining. He sat back slowly, his eyes moving from your face down cards up to Fives, then just past Fives' torso to where you sat in just the bandeau. A quiet huff of laughter escaped Jesse’s throat. He nodded, shrugging in agreement with Fives. He knew Fives better than anyone, and right now, he could see that he was moments away from starting a bar fight out of jealousy.

"Yeah, well," Fives gritted out, biting the inside of his cheeks. "I think we've all had a little too much. Time to wrap it up."

You let out a sigh, rolling your eyes at the sheer absurdity of the situation. You reached back and grabbed your sheer top, slinging it over your shoulders. The rest of the 501st guys were still laughing, their drinks were half full, and there was no reason to ruin their night just because Fives was losing his mind.

Stepping out from behind his shadow, you offered the rest of the table a reassuring smile to steady the vibe. "Fives has clearly had a little too much to drink, boys," you acknowledged, keeping your tone light and playful so the squad didn't lose their momentum. "Don't let him kill the vibe. You all are still having fun, stay and finish the night."

"Wait, no-" Fives stammered, his hands coming up slightly as he tried to backpedal. "General, I didn't mean-"

"You said it yourself, Fives, it's getting late," you cut him off.  "I'll take our party pooper back to the barracks." You scooped up some of Fives’ gear from the floor, giving Jesse a grateful nod. "Perhaps I'll come back next time. I'm going to make sure this one actually finds his bunk."

Fives froze, his mouth slightly open as his brain finally caught up to the situation. You were bringing him back to the barracks. Which were completely empty tonight, because the entire 501st was enjoying the night out, except for Rex, who was off with General Skywalker on a special assignment,

"Right. Yeah," Fives agreed quickly, "That’s probably a good idea, actually. Lead the way, General."

The rest of the table raised their glasses in a chorus of rowdy goodbyes. As you turned to head toward the exit, you caught Jesse’s eye. He leaned back in his chair and sent a wink in your direction as he took a slow sip of his drink. Fives didn't look back at his brothers. He fell into step right beside you, shirtless and carrying his remaining armor. 

You didn’t speak once for the entire trek back to the barracks. But once you both finally stepped into the main bunk area, you chewed him out.

"What the hell was that, Fives?" you demanded, throwing his gear against the closest locker. You turned back to face him, crossing your arms over your chest. "Everyone was just having a little fun."

Fives immediately held his hands up in a calming gesture, trying to play it cool. "Whoa, look, General. I was just making sure you didn't have to do anything uncomfortable in front of the men. The game was getting out of hand. I was looking out for you."

"Looking out for me?" You let out a fake laugh, unconvinced by his noble excuse. "You folded on twenty one, Fives."

Fives sank into a nearby bunk. "Hey, come on. The boys can get rowdy at 79’s. I just didn't think it was appropriate for my General to be losing her clothes to her subordinates." He leaned forward on his knees, looking up at you and dropping his voice. "Besides, I think if anyone gets the privilege to see you like that, it should be me."

You squatted down in front of him sitting on the bunk, seeing eye to eye with him. "Fives, if there is any man in the 501st who would want me to take my top off, it would be you." 

The bluntness of your words knocked the wind right out of him. The cocky, charming Fives had no response for a direct hit like that. He sat paralyzed on the bunk, his chest rising and falling in shallow breaths as his brain continued to fail him. Fives swallowed hard. There was no escaping the truth now. "Yeah. Okay. You caught me," he admitted, his gaze dropping to your lips for a split second before locking back onto your eyes. "You’re right. But I'd prefer if the entire kriffing 501st didn't have to see you, too. I don't think I’d necessarily like to share." He leaned forward on his knees, "Besides, I think if anyone gets the privilege to see you like that, it should absolutely be me."

You broke eye contact to look around the empty barracks before looking back at Fives.

"Well then, Fives," you whispered, your voice holding him entirely captive. "Call it your lucky day."

Without breaking eye contact, your hands moved down to the hem of your bandeau top. Fives’ gaze followed your movements, his pupils dilating as the reality of what you were doing sank in. Slowly, you pulled the fabric over your head and tossed it onto a nearby bunk. You stood right in front of him, completely shirtless under the barracks lights, exposing yourself to him in a way you never could have in that crowded cantina. Fives’ eyes darted down to your chest, a sudden, sharp intake of breath hitching in his throat, before he forcefully dragged his gaze upward, locking onto the light fixture above your head. 

He was trapped in an agonizing loop of wanting to look, knowing he shouldn't, and failing completely. The confidence he had radiated at the Sabacc table was entirely gone, replaced by a desperation that made him look entirely vulnerable.

A smile curved your lips as you watched his internal battle play out.

"Fives," you whispered, stepping closer until his knees touched your thighs. "Look at me."

His gaze snapped back up to yours. "General," he choked out. He swallowed hard, his hands clenching into the sheets. "General, you- You don’t have to do this. I don't-"

"You know damn well what you want.”

Fives’ mouth opened slightly, a breathless sound escaping him as he tried to find his words. "General-" he tried again, sounding less like a title and more like a desperate shield against his own impulses. He truly didn't know what to make of the situation. The rules of his entire existence had just been completely rewritten in a fraction of a second. You didn't give him time to think. You stepped forward, closing the final distance between his knees. Fives’ breath stopped as you raised a leg, positioned yourself seamlessly over his lap. You straddled him, your ripped black jeans rubbing against his armor as you settled onto his thighs, facing him directly.

Fives let out a low groan, his hands instinctively lifting off the mattress. They hovered just inches away from your hips, trembling slightly. He was terrified to touch you, but practically vibrating with the urge to pull you flush against his bare chest.

You leaned forward, bringing your body close enough that the heat radiating from his chest washed over yours. You didn't stop until your chest was nearly brushing his, your lips moving past his jawline to rest right beside his ear. 

"Then prove to me that you're the one who deserves this."

Tags: @trixie2023@clon3wh0r3@melonmochiii@alice-in-wonderland111@marvel-starwars-nerd@simping-for-fives@horsegirl4561@koskareevesismyqueen@katelynnwrites@pinkiemme@youmaynowdothething@808tsuika@dangerdumpling@ahsoka-padme@persaloodles@soclonely@coffeeandtodd@gryffindorqueensworld@obiorbenkenobi@jedi-dreea@lightning-wolffe@msmeredithrose@orangez3st@alor-ika@bigbadbatch@highladyofasgard@fivesmybelovedclone@adamime@echomina@pabukaycf99@zer0-tm

[onemass]

Mean Wolffe smut because I feel like it

NSFW below the cut. 18+

Wolffe who gives you fake sympathy as he fucks you.

Doesn't care what the position is as long as he can get his mouth right up against your ear. Drawls "Aww. Poor thing," when you cry out as he bullies his cock into you. Once he's buried to the the hilt inside you he just grinds in little circles, not thrusting yet, just forcing you to stretch around him until you're whining and squirming, pushing against his hips to try to get him to move properly.

"None of that," he growls against your ear, gripping your wrist and pulling it away from his hip. "You can take whatever I give you, can't you? Shh, I know it's a lot. But if you can't handle this, how are you gonna handle it when I actually fuck you, huh?"

He suddenly pulls his cock almost all the way out and then immediately shoves it back in with a grunt, and you whimper. "That's it. Poor thing." His teeth catch against your earlobe, pulling as he starts to thrust properly. He doesn't ease you into it. He grips your wrists and pins you down with his weight, ruthlessly driving himself into you again and again.

"Look at you," he pants, his voice gravelly. "Such a desperate fucking mess." You whine and try to arch away from the friction, but he leans even heavier against you, forcing you to take every single deep thrust.

When your breath hitches and a sob slips out, he presses an almost mocking kiss right below your ear, tracking the tear that rolls down your cheek. "Aww, did that hurt? Let me make it better," he mutters, but his rhythm just gets meaner. He shifts his grip, slipping his arm beneath you to yank your hips up for a deeper angle.

"Tell me to stop," he taunts, his breath hot against your neck. "Come on, sweetheart. If it's too much, just tell me. I'll stop."

As he speaks, he gives a you a vicious, bottoming-out thrust that makes you yelp and arch into him despite yourself. He gives an approving hum against your neck. "That's what I thought. So good for me. Just take it."

[le-jardin-inculte]

you can't tell me Echo didn't make this face at Fives all the time

[tanobatcher]

bf!wolffe headcanons: dog-coded affection a/n: he's such a puppy boyfriend. but he thinks he's scary.

gn reader warnings: none

bf!wolffe who loves long walks with no particular destination. it might be his among his favorite forms of quality time with you. he rolls his eyes when you grab his wrist and pull him toward a pretty sunset that you want to get closer to, but his gaze slowly softens as you come to a standstill beside him, leaning your head against his chest in comfortable silence. he’s never given himself the chance to appreciate the small beauties, until you stepped into his life.

bf!wolffe who is at the door literally every single time you come home. he won’t admit it, but he gets a bit antsy when you take too long, and it’s getting late, and he’s solemnly debating whether or not to go out and get you himself. the separation anxiety is especially real after he lost his whole fleet to the malevolence—his fear of losing you makes him extra protective and worried on the inside.

bf!wolffe who gets jealous when someone else is giving you affection and even MORE jealous if you’re being affectionate to someone else. he’s a territorial little shit and doesn’t try to hide it. he appears next to you all of a sudden with a deep scowl etched into the lines on his face and pulls you away, only to be shamelessly needy later in private. “you smell like him,” he grumbles, hugging you tight as his body pins you down on the bed. you stroke his hair and kiss him on the forehead. “someone sounds jealous,” you tease. he glances up at you, clearly displeased. he shifts forward, closer to you until your faces are just inches away from each other. “i’m not fuckin’ sharing you.”

bf!wolffe who usually wakes up before you, so he waits for you with his head nestled in the crook of your neck and presses slow, warm kisses across your skin until your eyes flutter open.

bf!wolffe who secretly likes when you hand feed him things that you want to share with him. he used to shake his head whenever you ask him to try what you’re eating, but as your boyfriend he is OBLIGATED to say yes (duh). now he always leans in close as you hold some snacks to his lips or push a spoonful of ice cream in his mouth.

bf!wolffe who sucks at admitting he needs attention so he just kinda nudges you until you get the hint and start scratching his head. sometimes he’s more demanding and just puts your hand where he wants it but other times he wants to be ~subtle~ especially if you’re busy watching your tv show or something that’s distracting you away from him. like why aren’t you giving him attention…he does that heavy sigh too as if he’s got bills to pay and shit. so dramatic.

bf!wolffe who is less of a traditional, lovey-dovey cuddle on the couch type of guy and instead just falls asleep on top of you or in your lap. it’s like he’s holding you hostage because now you can’t move or else he’ll wake up (grumpily) so you end up snuggling into his chest eventually. he loves opening his eyes to the feeling of your body nestled between his big, beefy biceps, his lips pressed against the crown of your head as he kisses you before falling back asleep.

bf!wolffe who lowkey likes being called a good boy

guidelines | clone masterlists | clone hcs (tumblr) | clone hcs (tiktok)

[zonkedorchid]

Drunken Night ~ Bad Batch Echo x reader

Description: Y’all I’ve been having a horrible month so here’s some self indulgent fluff. Boyfriend Echo takes care of you after a night out. Gender neutral.

Words: ~830

Warnings: established relationship, intoxicated reader, fluff, maybe two lines of suggestiveness

Masterlist

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Echo heard you before you even entered your apartment. Your loud giggles along with Wrecker’s shouting was enough to wake up the whole building. Echo sat up from his lying position on the couch, waiting for you to come in. He heard you attempting to use the keys on the door, which made him sigh – not because he’s irritated, but because he knows exactly what he’s in for.

Suddenly, the door swings open and you and Wrecker come falling in. The giggles and the shouts are louder now that you and Wrecker are a mess on the floor. Echo immediately makes his way over to help your intoxicated self, carefully picking you up and stabilizing your body against his own.

“Wrecker,” Echo sighs, which makes Wrecker stop his own fit of laughter and stand up.

“Sorry,” Wrecker smiles sheepishly. “There were some deals on the pitchers we couldn’t pass up. But I got them home just like you asked!”

Echo rolls his eyes but still grumbles a thank you. Wrecker, sensing Echo’s stress, wishes you both a good night before heading out. Echo can still feel you shaking against his chest, and when he looks down, he sees you staring up at him, trying not to audibly laugh.

“Cyare, are you okay?” he whispers.

“You worry too much, Echo,” you finally let the giggle escape.

“I only do because it’s you,” he brings his hand up to cup your cheek. The feeling of his large hand against your cheek has your fuzzy mind spinning.

“I’m fine though. I was with Wrecker!” you happily reassure him. Echo lets out a scoff, “Exactly. You were with Wrecker. That man can barely keep track of his left toe.”

“Echo,” you whine at his overprotectiveness.

“Alright, let’s get you ready for bed,” he says before helping your unsteady form to your shared bedroom. You, however, don’t make it easy on Echo as your hands wander his form. He’s dressed in his civilians, so you can easily feel his lean muscles underneath.

“Hands to yourself, cyare,” Echo chuckles. He sits you on your bed, but you let your full body weight fall back. Echo has an amused smile on his face as he looks down at you.

“That’s not what you were saying the other night,” you tease, and the smile from his face falls and a blush quickly covers his cheeks. Echo looks away and clears his throat.

“Alright, enough of that,” but there’s no bite in his flustered tone. His reaction makes you laugh, and a warm tingling feeling overtakes your body. It’s not sexual, but you feel yourself overcome with your love for him.

“I love you,” you whisper. Echo’s eyes soften and he leans over to smooth out your tousled hair.

“I love you too,” he whispers in the same volume, enjoying how sentimental you become when you’re under the influence. He traces over the features of your face with his eyes for a few moments before he pulls away.

“Let’s get you out of those clothes-” which makes you smirk. “- no, not like that-” which then makes you playfully pout. But it doesn’t last long as you fling your clothes off, while Echo gets you a new pair of your sleep wear. He helps you put them on then leaves a kiss on your forehead.

“Let’s get you cleaned up now,” he gently says as he guides you to the fresher. He watches you as you stumble your way through your steps, and sometimes he offers help — mainly because he’s worried you’re going to get soap in your eyes when you wash your face. When you’re done, he wraps his arms around you and hugs you from behind. You look at your two figures in the small mirror, and you feel content. The haze is still there from the night’s previous activities, and it has you feeling extra appreciative that you get to come home to him. You run your hands along his scomp and his hand, and you ask, “Did you enjoy your quiet night?”

“I did, but I missed you terribly,” he murmurs, and you feel the breath of his answers tickle your ear.

“I missed you too,” you confess. You stare into his kind eyes through the mirror before you turn your head over your shoulder to look at the real thing.

He places a soft kiss on your lips, and then he’s pulling you back into the bedroom. He makes sure you have some water next to your side of the bed before he crawls in to join you.

He’s barely able to settle before you wrap yourself around him.

“Careful, cyare,” he warns you, afraid you’re going to hurt yourself with his hard metal prosthetics. You don’t care though, in fact you snuggle even closer to him. He eventually relaxes when he knows you’re fine, rubbing his hand up and down your back.

“Goodnight, Echo,” you barely say before you pass out.

“Goodnight, cyare,” he whispers against your hair.

[halfhumanhalfasleep]

a collection of judgy Cody faces, for your enjoyment

[captainrexs]

[probadbatch]

Not pictured: ghost!Fives cheering his brother on just out of frame for @frostycatblr-fandom-files