#the Wolfpack are so gonna get it

[dancingwiththeplanets]

Wolffe Pup

Commander Wolffe x fem!reader

masterlist

Summary: You introduce a very timid Wolffe to your adopted daughter and it's love at first sight.

a/n: I've decided to make my annual reappearance with no explanation as to where I've been and a 5k Wolffe x fem!reader story to melt your hearts. Enjoy ;)

Your fingers fidget anxiously with each other. The platform is busy. Of course, it’s always hectic the first few hours after a campaign, but maybe everything seems busier today with all the thoughts racing through your head. 

Today was the day Wolffe was going to meet your babygirl. Your sweet, little Aurora.

The thought brings tears to your eyes. She's everything to you, that bubbly little thing. The biggest cheeks, toothless smile, and deep brown eyes that somehow remind you of Wolffe’s. 

He wasn’t even a part of your life when you went through the adoption process. Or even when you’d finally taken her home. You and Wolffe met a few months into your journey through single motherhood. You were young, yes, but stable enough in your job, and always yearned to care for a little baby and give her all the love someone else couldn’t.  

Wolffe never pushed for you to share your daughter’s life with him, and you made sure to give yourself the time to get acquainted with her first. To build the bond and love between you two, even though you felt it from the first time you held her. And Wolffe was so patient and understanding with you wanting to take your time introducing him to Aurora. But at the same time, you shared so much with him because you knew he loved it, and it just warmed your heart how calm and attentive he was, with a little smile on his face, when you showed him pictures of her little growing body and shared with him how she was doing. You knew he already felt like she was a part of his life. 

So here you waited, nervously. Biting your nails now. You’ve tucked yourself into your corner, the ‘safe place’ Wolffe designated as yours long ago, saying it was too chaotic in this place for you to ever be wandering around searching for him and vice versa. Though you have a sneaking suspicion his orders have something to do with the time he found you surrounded by a bunch of his flirting troopers- shiny’s, obviously- far away from your agreed waiting point that time. That’s not a mistake any knowing trooper would make with the Commander’s girl. And unfortunately for them, Wolffe didn’t seem to care that Boost had definitely put them up to it, snickering at the shiny’s petrified faces as their Commander marched in their direction and fortified himself in front of you. 

You really did try not to laugh. But they did look like they’d just found out they were committing treason or something. It would have been extremely funny if you didn’t catch sight of that frightening scowl on Wolffe’s face as he turned away from them, before softening it to a look of concern. 

“If they bothered you, I’ll assign them to hard labor in the cargo bay for 10 months, not 5. Just say the word.” 

“They weren’t bothering me, Wolffe.” You smiled, encouraging the frown to disappear from his stern face. 

He let out a huff, “Well that makes one of us.”

Your cheeks tug upwards just thinking about him, about how irritated he’d been with the men– pretty furious actually. Shouting out retributions and threatening to sanction them all to Fox for prison guard duty. He’s truly not that harsh though. You were held tight under his arm, wide-eyed and shocked by his reaction as he shouted, to the point where you had to intervene and tell him it was just harmless fun. His gloved fingers were firm around your arm, unhappy eyes softening as he looked at you regrettably before finally yelling at his troopers to get lost and whispering something to you about encouraging them too much. 

The memory makes you giggle, and warms your cheeks as you remember to relax and just wait for your Commander to come by for you. Butterflies in your stomach and a shy smile on your face, it’s hard to contain your giddiness, you’re just so excited to see him… It’s a special day. 

You finally spot a distinctly marked helmet emerging from the crowd. Not quite the trooper you were hoping for, but you’re pleased nonetheless. Where there’s a Boost, there’s usually a Wolffe. 

You smile brightly at the trooper as he approaches, thankful to see that he’s made it home safely. You know how much these boys mean to their Commander. 

He raises his hand up in an awkward wave, looking a little stiff as he walks over to you and pulls off his helmet. You would be concerned about his behavior if it weren't for the smile that he tossed your way, albeit laced with discomfort.

You raise your eyebrows at him in a ‘what did you do now’ manner, assuming Wolffe’s tardiness is because of him. 

“Uh, hey vod'ika.” He says, coming to a stop in front of you. 

“Hi Boost, successful mission?” You ask, smiling politely.

“Yeah, um, look…I need to apologize for… something,” He says, his hand raising to nervously scratch at the back of his neck. 

You frown a bit, confused but ready to let him say his piece, “Okay?”

“It’s uh, about Wolffe.”

He hesitates, eyes darting up and down like he’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact with you. You give him an encouraging nod, attempting a small smile again despite the pit in your stomach growing bigger, “Okay?”

“It’s just that, uh,” He clears his throat, adjusting the hold on his helmet. “Well w-we knew the Commander was, uh,” Another grunt to clear the windpipe, “Just, uh, that he was going to be meeting your-uh…your daughter,” This time he coughs, seeming to struggle with the admission, “Uh, you know, whenever it was that we got back, that is..”

The smile was wiped clean off your face halfway through that sentence.

“Okay.”

You can see the panic flashing in his eyes, noting your less than pleased reaction already, but wanting to quickly explain the situation, “And..um… well we may have given him,” Another cough, “A little bit too hard of a time about meeting her.”

Insult and defensiveness immediately boils your blood, your frown quickly morphing into a scowl, “What about meeting my daughter?”

His eyes widen immediately, “Oh! No no - osik - no, it’s nothing like that, it's just- ah,“ He sighs, covering his face with both hands and grumbling curses in Mando'a. “Look I’m so sorry it’s just… he was all excited and-”

“-I know he was excited, is he not anymore?” You ask, anxiety and worry making you sound more angry than shaken - which you definitely feel.  

Boosts face morphs further into panic at your distressed reaction, quickly raising his hands in a harmless motion, “No! He's been so looking forward to it! Beaming with pride, ma’am..” He rushes, sounding desperate. “But we… the pack I mean, uh…we may have sort of insinuated that… well that…”

“That what?” You ask, sounding more hurt now. 

He winces, his voice sounding small as he mutters, shamefully, “..that your baby would burst into tears at the sight of his face.” 

Your mouth hits the floor, utterly mortified, “You what!” 

“We’re so sorry, vod’ika.” A second remorseful voice speaks behind you. You whip around to see Comet, approaching you slowly and looking like a kicked puppy.

“C-Comet! Boost! You know how insecure he is about his scar!” You snap, your own nerves getting the better of you. “What in the galaxy did you say?” 

“It was harmless teasing at first! Honest!” Boost defends, jumping back in. “Just stupid stuff about wearing a baby harness over his armor and being a dad and…and he laughed along at first, seemed to like the teasing actually..the boys caught sight of his datapad and, look it was just harmless teasing!”

You sigh, trying to level your disappointment and anxiety. “What’s this about his datapad?” 

“His..? Oh, the picture of you. A-and your daughter. Ma’am.”

“Her name is Aurora.” You grumble, the sadness growing in your chest. 

“Right,” Comet says, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Aurora, that’s a beautiful name.” He says, an apologetic and guilty smile on his face. “She’s beautiful vod’ika.” 

Your heart tugs a little at the words. She is. The most beautiful. 

“Well I know that.” You still scoff, though your temper calms down a bit. “Wolffe..showed you a picture?”

Comet rubs the back of his neck, nervously looking at Boost, “Not exactly, we grabbed his datapad when we caught sight of the resting screen image. Sorta, passed it around out of his reach.”

“Which picture?” You ask reluctantly. Wolffe saved a picture of you and Aurora as his resting screen image? When had you even sent him one?

“A very beautiful picture.” Comet smiles, “the two of you cuddling or something. She’s laughing.”

Your heart flutters. 

Oh, that picture. 

On his last excursion you’d woken up to a message he’d sent after you fell asleep. The 104th had decided to head out early the next morning into a droid-heavy sector on an already hostile planet. You knew you probably wouldn’t be hearing from him for a few days, which was enough on its own to keep you seriously on edge without the added risk, but he promised he’d be careful and told you he loved you.

You didn’t even think twice about pulling your babygirl up close and snapping a photo. Come home safe to us, you wrote. It was you and your Aurora…she had a big smile on her face as you tickled her, her ear gently caught between your teeth as you bared them like a rascally pup chewing on its favorite toy. It’s one of your favorite pictures of the two of you ever, so silly and tender at the same time, Rory shining front and center in that one, and he set it as his datapad screen.. 

You couldn't help the little smile, just imagining him shouting orders in the strategy room or walking through the hanger holding the datapad, image flashing to life every time he lifted it in his grasp.  You have no doubts, you want that man in your little girl's life. 

These thoughts bring you to sigh, before scowling at the boys in front of you. These di’kuts. You know deep down how much Wolffe has been looking forward to this. It was something you never would have expected from the hot-blooded Commander. You’re not even sure he realized how invested he was in what you had. You think most women venturing into single parenthood would feel confused, maybe threatened, meeting a man who so desperately wants to be a part of little Aurora’s life in any way you shared with him, even if he tried to suppress it and not put that on you. 

He was so patient and understanding with you wanting to take your time introducing him. But at the same time, you shared so much with him because you knew he loved it, and truthfully it just warmed your heart how smiley he would get when you showed him pictures and told him how she was doing. You knew he already felt like she was a part of his life. 

Which evidently now was a problem. “You guys,” you sighed, rubbing your hands over your face, “This is not good I-I don’t know what to do-“

“Please, please, don’t be mad at him if he’s weird, vod’ika,” Comet pleads, bringing you back to the moment, and reminding you that now, you were extra pissed. “It was our fault! You-” he sighs, pain filling his features, “-You should have seen his face when the words left Sinker’s mouth, we got in his head.”

Boost groans at Comet’s words, distress covering his face at the apparent horrific memory. 

“What exactly did he say?” You grit, still not sure if you’re feeling more defensive over Wolffe or your baby right now. 

The two look at each other, deciding who has to be the one to say it. Comet, being the youngest, gets the short end of the stick and crumbles under his brother's glare. 

He sighs, defeated, before speaking, “That the second the baby was in Wolffe’s arms and she got a good look at his scar and the eye she’d burst into tears kicking to get away from him and then his eye would have one of those stress malfunctions and twist around in weird directions before smoking so he’d have to pop it out and then he’d drop it because he’s so uncoordinated and it’d roll on the floor so he’d have a gaping hole in his face which does actually look very frightening and he’d be trying to catch his robotic eyeball as it rolled on the floor and she would be so mortified and scarred that she could never look at him without screaming again.”

The two are silent as you process the words. 

You can’t even say anything. Hands rubbing your eyes and slowly trying to catalog the damage in your head, before sighing, exasperated. You look back up at the boys, both of whom have their heads hung low and regret painting their features, having relived the admittedly vivid horror story concocted by their brother. 

“Right. And where. Is. Sinker.” You demand. 

“Hiding from you, ma’am.”

—————————

Thankfully, Wolffe met you with the same loving embrace and press to your forehead that he always did after a mission. 

Everything was reassuringly normal, until you got into the lift of your building.

“Um…Wolffe?” You ask calmly, noticing the nervous tap of his fingers against his belt, each gloved finger making a loud, tacky noise of resistance with the contact, echoing in the silent elevator. 

"Yes?" He turns to you, immediately stopping the action as well as the swaying on his feet and giving you his complete attention.

“Is everything okay?”

His eyes widen a bit in realization. “Oh. Yes, ma’am! Uh, I-I mean yes, beautiful.” A not so convincing smile spreads across his face.

You arch an eyebrow at him, hoping to lighten the tension with a playful, “Yes ma’am, huh?” 

“S-sorry, love.” He says, attempting a small smile while he adjusts something on his wrist vambrace, “It was a long tour I…I guess I’m a little tense. It was hard on the men and…there was just a lot to do.” 

You smile at him understandingly, the lift door opening. 

Almost there…

You unlock the door. 

We can do this Wolffe… 

“C-cyare,” Wolffe stutters, “Look, m-maybe we should do this another time. I- I don’t think I’m up for this-” He frowns, lowering his gaze to the corner of the tight space.

“Wolffe, seriously, that’s enough.” You frown, sounding unimpressed. “What are you worried about?”

“W-what if she doesn’t like me?” 

“Oh my god.” 

“No” he sighs, “You don’t understand I’m- just look at me. I’m not soft, I’m not pretty, I don’t know how to sing lullabies for crying out-” He huffs, “I don’t even know what babies like to talk about!” 

“Wolffe, seriously, I love my daughter to death, but you are giving an infant old way too much intellectual credit.” You say rolling your eyes. 

Those boys are dead. 

Wolffe sighs again, running a hand over his hair, “But love, you…you don’t understand. She’s going to take one look at me and that will just be it. And then-” His eyes widen, dread swallowing his facial expression, “O-oh my God, my eye. The scar, the cybernetic, wh-what if it scares her-” Wolffe’s face is flashing with absolute horror as he builds up the worst possible scenario in his mind.

Shit, shit, shit. 

What to do..what to do…think...

“Come on,” You say with finality. If you know one thing about your Commander. It’s that the best way to have him deal with a situation, is to give him no other choice than to face it in the heat of battle. 

Your hand hovers over the open button on the control panel. 

“Wait!” Wolffe suddenly snaps, hand snatching your wrist in place.

“Ahh!” You scream, startled. Your arm immediately shoves Wolffe on the shoulder, his form swaying only slightly from the movement “Wolffe! Seriously, you are making me so tense right now!”

“I-I’m sorry it’s just,” He sighs, ”I-if she hates me...please don’t break up with me.”

“Wolffe,” You laugh in exasperation, starting to feel more sympathetic for your poor boyfriend. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you..” You say, lying straight through your teeth. “But I need you to know everything’s going to be fine. I promise. My girl’s got good taste, and she already knows your face. I’ve shown her a million times. I know she’ll love you.”

Wolffe stares down at you with soft eyes. Looking away briefly before straightening up and giving you a gentle nod. 

Your stomach flips with nerves and excitement as you step through the opening door. There’s no way this could go wrong. Not with your Aurora. Certainly not with your Wolffe. No matter how hard and unyielding this man may be in war, even with his brothers, it’s his love and responsibility over them that makes him so stern. He’s protective, he’s caring. 

You try to conceal your own excitement, seeing your little bundle all cozied up in the Nurse Droid’s pouch. Wow, you’ve missed her. You press a gentle little kiss to her head, but don’t want to give Wolffe long enough to start backing for the door before he meets her. 

“Wolffe…this is Aurora,” You say, calmly moving a sleeping Aurora from the nurse-droid’s pouch and into Wolffe’s tense arms. His eyes widen in surprise, arms quickly shifting to find a way to hold her as the slight weight of her slowly lets into his arms. 

His eyes dart around in panic, looking at you nervously for direction. 

“Introduce yourself, Wolffe,” You say quietly, almost unable to contain your excitement at this image before you. “She’s been waiting to meet you.”

Wolffe’s body relaxes slowly. You recognize the almost invisible deep breath he takes in before letting his eyes land on your daughter's sleeping face, and it’s almost as if her peaceful state transmits into Wolffe’s nerves the second he lets himself look at her, really look at her. 

“A-Aurora.” He mutters, more to himself, causing a smile to creep onto your face. You can hear the calm slipping into him like a trance. 

“Yeah,” You almost whisper, placing a hand on her blanket in his arms, the other resting supportively on the Wolfpack emblem on his pauldron, hoping to further distribute a semblance of calm between the two of them. The last thing you need is for Aurora to scare Wolffe away by waking up in his arms screaming. 

That would take some work to repatch. 

“I don’t really call her Aurora much anymore, though.” You whisper, eyes captivated by the image of your girl engulfed delicately by Wolffe’s strong arms. 

“O-oh?” He asks, almost distractedly, glancing up at you before looking back down at the little warm bundle again. 

“Yeah,” You hum, “I’ve been calling her Rory.” 

You hear a deep yet sharp inhale, delivered almost laboriously slow so as not to unsettle the sleeping baby in his arms, “R-Rory?” He asks, his deep voice losing a bit of its composure. 

You grin, finally glancing up at Wolffe, having forgotten to make sure he was comfortable with the encounter so far. And you weren’t all that surprised when he didn’t meet your gaze, still looking at your daughter’s peaceful features. “Like…like roar-y?” He gulps, eyes wide like he’s looking straight into a bright star, “Like a-”

“-Like an animal roar,” You giggle under your breath, “Yeah, I thought you might hear it that way. But it’s R-o-r-y, Rory.”

You look up at Wolffe again, expecting to see a look of amusement on his face, but you’re slightly alarmed to see his features tense, lips pulled back into a tight line and jaw tightly set as he continues gazing at her.

“O-oh.. Wolffe, I’m sorry is this too much? A-are you okay?-” “-That’s the cutest fucking name I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You pull your lips between your teeth, trying not to give away that you’re absolutely elated, surging with love and excitement, unable to hide the smile breaking out on your face. 

“She’s…she’s so beautiful. So much more than in the pictures.” Wolffe mutters, “She looks just like you.”

You can’t suppress the laugh that escapes you at that, muffling it as best you can in front of sleeping Rory. “Wolffe, I didn't give birth to her.”

“She still looks just like you.” He mutters seriously, shaking his head in disbelief at your little girl. 

You admire your boyfriend holding your daughter in his arms. A Commander, hardened by war and tragedy in his life, gently caressing your daughter's forehead with his thumb, you don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it. Her little head small enough in his palm that he can support her neck and reach all the way around her to stroke her features. Your heart swells with heavy emotions, bringing tears to your eyes at the raw beauty of this moment.

You hate to interrupt them, but Rory runs on her own clock, and evidently…”It’s pretty late Wolffe,” You murmur, leaning up whisper in his ear. “I think Rory needs to rest in the nursery now.” 

“O-oh,” He says, shaking his head gently as if coming out of a daze. Yup, you’ve definitely lost your boyfriend to your daughter, and you are totally and completely okay with it. “Of course.” He looks down at Rory and then to your arms, awkwardly leaning forward for you to take her but not quite sure how to maneuver her without disturbing her slumber. However, he looks slightly heartbroken that his brief time with her is up. 

“Why don’t you take care of her, I’ll show you where to go so you know where you can find her,” You say gently, adding an encouraging smile at the end. 

He straightens up, nodding dutifully at the responsibility and taking extra care to follow you down the hallway into Rory’s nursery. 

He knows where the room is already, but he’s not going to argue for you to take the little girl away from his arms. When you reach her crib, he’s hesitant to place her down, but with some light instruction he settles her in easily. Admittedly it does take some extra coaxing for you to pull him out of there, reassuring him for the umpteeth time as you close the door that no she does not need any blankets and yes she will be perfectly fine. 

“You’re closing the door?” He asks, bewildered at the barrier you’ve placed between yourselves and Rory. “But what if-”

“Wolffe,” You stop him, bracing him with a hand on each shoulder, “I promise you with all my heart that she’s okay in there. Now, come with me,” You guide him to your room, just a few steps down from your daughters, and lead him to his side of the bed. 

He immediately starts removing his armor, having spent the night here with you enough times for the motions to feel natural upon entry. Aurora always spent those nights with your mom or sister, few as they were. She was so little, and you were still getting to know Wolffe when you adopted Rory. You wanted to make sure it felt right to introduce them before you did. 

“Here,” You say, bringing the monitor from your bedside table around to him. “Listen.”

He takes the device in his hands with furrowed brows as he sits on the edge of the bed, looking curiously at it. You squat down in front of him, reaching for the volume knob and making sure it’s turned up a little bit more than usual. You can tell he’s about to ask what the monitor is for. Is it broken? Did you need him to fix it? Then you hear the babble of Rory mumbling in her sleep. 

The slumberful noise makes you smile, just as you know it will to Wolffe. As expected, the sweetest grin you’ve ever seen stretches Wolffe’s features, and he shyly tries to hide it, knowing you’re watching him, as he looks away from the device in his hands.

“Now you can hear her,” You say reassuringly, tenderly squeezing his knees as you rise. 

The two of you go to bed early, using Rory as an excuse to cuddle quietly in bed and whisper to each other for hours, wrapped up in each other's arms. Wolffe detaches himself from your arms every so often to make sure the volume on Rory’s monitor is working alright, normally when she gets too silent. It feels wonderful and warm and extra special to be held tightly in Wolffe’s grasp this time, like you’ve shared the most beautiful part of yourself with him and he embraced it more than you could have even hoped. 

—--------------- 

You wake to a sound you’re all too accustomed to. Groaning instinctively at the high pitched cries ripping through the monitor. Your arm swings out to your bedside table to lower the volume a little as you roll towards the edge of the bed, only to waft against the air when you do. 

Instead, you hear a deep groan, then a startled gasp in the bed as Wolffe bolts up. And for a brief moment, you panic at the speed in which your boyfriend is sprinting out of the bed and towards your door.

“Wolffe, wait!” You shout, completely awake now as you jump up and catch his arm just outside the door.

“But it’s- it’s Rory! She’s…she’s..” He gasps, nearly pulling out of your grasp, but slowing his stead when you’ve gently wrapped your arms around him, sensing that he should listen to you first.

You sigh, relieved that you prevented your boyfriend from bursting into your daughter's nursery ready to fight off a threat, probably scaring her in the process.

“Hey, she’s okay, hey.” You say, guiding his face to look at you. “She’s okay, I promise.”

He looks a little confused, eyes still swimming with alarm from having woken up to the cries of your distressed baby. You can feel his heart pounding beneath the skin of his chest, he was scared. He’s used to waking up to blasters and bombs going off, and you feel awful for not preparing him for this, having experienced him jolting awake in the middle of the night, trembling and covered in sweat. Letting him hold you tightly to his overheated, sticky skin as he mutters needless apologies into your hair for waking you. 

The cries of Rory startled him at first, especially being such a disturbing, foreign sound. Jumping into soldier mode to take down the immediate threat is his body's natural reaction.. 

“Wolffe, look at me,” You mutter soothingly, one arm wrapping over the warm skin of his muscular shoulders, hand resting on his cheek, the other down by the waistband of his synthetic shorts. You trace gently against the black fabric hugging his form, hoping to calm him with your touch. 

The heat of his body radiates off him, warming your bare arms against his skin. You hope the skin-to-skin contact is as soothing to him as it is to you. 

“Babies cry…a lot.” You explain gently, “Aurora has trouble sleeping through the night still, she’s probably just hungry.” 

“Oh I-I knew that. I’m,” He sighs, eyes closing as he looks down in shame, “I’m sorry.”

“No my love, please don’t be. I know you just want to protect her.” You say, pressing a warm kiss on his collarbone, then pulling him down to press your lips into his cheek. “Come see, it’s okay.”

You have Wolffe leaned back in the nursing chair holding Rory and a bottle in no time. Her eyes are glued to his face. Unblinking, calm, analyzing each of his features through whatever sharpness of vision she has at this age. Wolffe isn’t any different, you notice, letting her take him in while he does the same. You allow your gaze to follow his, looking at each of her sleepy, delicate little eyelids, her button nose, those cheeks that you just want to smother in kisses. It’s so hard not to squeeze this little thing with how much you love her. 

“So,” Wolffe grumbles, sounding gruff and sleepy, but peaceful. “You…you don’t think she's afraid of the scar?”

“Are you kidding,” You say gently, “Those eyes look pretty relaxed to me.” 

You smile, continuing to gaze into your daughter's face. Wolffe holding a milk bottle in his hand and feeding it to her with strong, steady hands. She almost doesn’t blink, the way she’s staring up at him, big eyes stretching uncomfortably wide to get a good look. Pure curiosity and interest swimming in her pupils. Her gaze flutters down his face minutely, before resting on his eyes again. It’s unbearably captivating, and you shake your head at her reaction to him. 

“If anything,” You add with a giggle, “I think she’s going, ‘damn, look at that scar. Nobody’s gonna mess with me with this guy around.”

A small grin spreads across Wolffe’s face, and despite the forced doubt in his tone, you know he’s eating every word up, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what she’s thinking.” He says with an eye roll. 

“That’s what I thought,” You tease, flashing him with that endearing smile he claims can win him over anything.

He huffs, but the grin on his face spreads to a full fledged smile as he glances over your features, “Like mother, like daughter, eh?” 

“Mhm.”

#wolffe x reader #making it canon that Wolffe has the biggest lovey dovey dad dreams #the Wolfpack are so gonna get it #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #wolffe x fem!reader #clone trooper #clone trooper x reader #dancingwiththeplanets #clone sinker #clone boost #clone comet #mom!reader #adoption #wolffe x mom!reader #wolfpack #the clone wars #104th battalion #wolffe #dad!wolffe

[boggsart]

For the past couple of weeks I’ve been talking about a Bad Batch project I’ve been working on, that grew out to be something much bigger. After a lot of convincing and fighting with my teachers…

…Surprise surprise, I’m making a game for my small thesis project (yes, we have this thing called small thesis at year 3, the real thesis project begins at year 5) at uni, called Republic Troops. Well sort of, cuz sadly, it’s not gonna be a real playable game. Reason is, that this whole project has to be finished by November, and I’m working on this all by myself, and I have classes with multiple projects I haven’t even started working on, so you can imagine how much time I have lmfao.

This “game” will get multiple character posters of all the playable characters, meaning The Bad Batch, Coruscant Guard, the 501st, the 212th, the Wolfpack, and if @highgroundanimations gives me permission, I’m gonna include his 241st characters as well.

I will also make a short trailer/promo animation of all the characters in action with some sick ass music. The whole thing will also get a game menu as well, where you can select the characters and take a closer look at them (sort of like in battlefront 2)with some basic idle animations and with some talking.

This is the first poster out of the 6. I wouldn’t call it finished yet, cuz I’m still waiting for approval from my teacher lol. I’m gonna keep posting all of the posters once all of them are approved, but if you’re interested in the technical side of this whole project as well, give me a follow on instagram @nagy_bogix, cuz that’s where I’m gonna post a lot of technical stuff and most of the animations.

I hope Disney won’t sue my ass for using that logo lol

Coruscant Guard

501st

104th

#star wars #star wars fanart #bad batch echo #bad batch tech #bad batch hunter #bad batch crosshair #bad batch wrecker #bad batch #clone force 99 #bad batch fanart #tbb #tbb fanart #3d modeling

[padawansuggest]

So something my sis and gf and I have been into lately??? We wanna buy an abandoned building (warehouse, school, church, whatever) and turn it into a house with apartments for all of us in there. That’s fun.

Anyways. Got me thinking. Because it suddenly hit me that if Obi-Wan had to find a new home post-war but with the republic winning. I think it would be HILARIOUS because he’s probably got a Padawan and Cody and half torrent and Boga and gotta have room for Ani and Padme and the twins to come visit- anyways. He’s gonna get some huge ass abandoned warehouse and start converting it into apartments and bedrooms and bathrooms and kitchens and a gym and shit okay he’s just gonna have to find the biggest warehouse he can so the front doors are big enough already to get his dino-horse in so she can snuggle and he’s got so many people to house rn.

Thankfully, that clone efficiency is gonna come in handy and sure give these guys a happy helpful thing to do post-war with all the renovations they’ll have to make lmao

Also I’m thinking of the SpaceToks lmao ‘come with me to renovate my abandoned warehouse into a mansion’ and then you open it up to show something that looks genuinely decent but decorated like a sim just throwing furniture all over the place and a 30 foot varactyl with a small child on it in the middle of the room and a bunch of armored clones playing super smash bros on the wall tv. Instant follow okay you just know you’re gonna see some weird ass shit here. There are a bunch of comments all ‘it’s all just for show Jedi and clones don’t live like that irl’ and then other Jedi replying ‘yeah I know Kenobi is fucked up but the rest of us wanna live like this too Lmao’ and stitching Plo’s wolfpack and Mace’s chaos house with his grandpadawan who keeps bringing home kids for no good reason and Shaak with a bunch of tinies hanging off of her at all times for cuddles.

Just give me the post-war shit where the Jedi are like ‘lmao we gonna take a break for a bit’ and chill out to go to therapy and all that. Give me the renovation videos with Boga hiding around every corner like a Backrooms monster. I need it.

#star wars #obi wan kenobi #clone wars #post clone wars #he’s married to Cody and took Reva as his Padawan #they found an abandoned warehouse on Stewjon and are gonna turn it into a mansion #boga

[sethsclearwater]

I NEED Embry x reader x Jared. I feel like they'd be the most chaotic group. Embry being a soft dom and Jared just teasing tf out of the reader.

Also I LOVE your work!! My absolute favorite wolfpack writer!

-🍀

"there you go," embry cooed from his place between your thighs, his non-supporting hand soothingly stroking through your hair, "such a good girl, yea?" he asked, a small smile on his face that had you blushing underneath him.

"your good girl," you whispered back as you ran your fingers up his bare chest, still somehow shy despite the fact that embry was currently buried to his hilt in your heat.

embry dropped his head to give your forehead a soft kiss while he waited for you to give him the go-ahead, knowing all too well how much you needed some time to stretch around his thick length.

before either of you could do anything, the familiar footsteps of your other imprinter approached the bedroom, drawing both your and embry's attention to the door as jared stepped in.

"no fucking way-" jared laughed when he saw the way embry was hovering over your figure under the comforter, "oh this is great," he added, immediately coming over to the bed so he could sit down on the edge of the mattress next to the two of you.

you blushed, quickly wrapping your arms around embry's neck so you could tug him down and bury your face in his shoulder which had both boys laughing at your shyness.

"oh don't get all shy babe," jared drolled, taking his hand and running it up your bare shoulder so he could join embry in gently stroking his fingers through your hair, "you weren't doing that last night when i was fucking you on the kitchen counter, in fact," he started, a cocky smile on his face that had your cheeks turning an even deeper red, "if i remember correctly you were begging me to keep my cock in you all night, weren't you babe?" he asked teasingly, gently tugging at your hair when you refused to lift your head from embry's shoulder to acknowledge your other imprinter.

embry let out a breathy laugh, pressing a gentle kiss to the crown of your head. you took a breath before finally peeking up from embry's shoulder to see both boys watching you adoringly, "jus' missed you," you whispered as you made eye contact with your other boyfriend for the first time that morning.

jared almost lost his composure when he saw the way your features softened as you looked at him but quickly controlled himself before responding, "you gonna let me have a turn with you after embry then? wanna bend you over that bathroom counter and fuck that pretty pussy from behind," he started, both boys already knowing damn well the lewdness of jared's words would have you getting all flustered again.

embry chuckled when he felt the way your walls fluttered around his cock at jared's words. when he realized you were too flustered to come up with anything in response aside from a small nod, he jumped in, "she liked that," he mused as he looked up at jared, both men laughing when they processed just how easily your body would respond to them.

"that's what i thought," jared teased, gently scratching at your scalp and chuckling when you let out a soft sigh and leaned into his touch, "now are you gonna let embry fuck you for a little bit?" he asked playfully, chuckling when you nodded and turned your attention back to your other imprinter who just pressed a quick kiss to your lips before drawing his hips back to thrust into your heat.

#embry call #jared cameron #embry call imagine #embry call blurb #embry call fluff #embry call smut #jared cameron imagine #jared cameron blurb #jared cameron fluff #jared cameron smut #twilight #the twilight saga #poly!embryxreaderxjared #poly!jaredxreaderxembry #imagine #blurb #fluff #smut

[kaminocasey]

25 Days of Life Day: Day 15 - Stuck in the Cold with Wolffe

Summary: You and Wolffe are on your way to a party and you get stuck out in the snow, so you try to find a place to get warm!

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Suggestive content, nudity, light angst

A/N: Okay a few things, I'm SO sorry I'm so behind. I'm gonna try to get caught up! We had the Steel City Con and then I had to go back to work and then we got sick... so it's been a rough week lol. Anyway, I had to throw Gregor and my OC Cassia in there for a little fun-sy thing. Lol. Okay back to our regular programming! S/O to @rebelsriley for the Wolffe inspo! <3

“I told you we were going to be late to the party.” You grumble, your teeth chattering violently from the cold. 

You’re normally a generally pretty happy person, but unfortunately, stepping in the freezing cold foot high snow is what’s putting you in a bad mood. Especially dressed for a party, and not for snow. Where the hell did this snow even come from?

“Yeah, well… if you hadn’t taken two hours to get ready...” Wolffe snips back, frozen white flakes getting stuck in his dark lashes. 

The two of you are on your way to a party at Gregor and his partner Cassia’s apartment. Wolffe had suggested that the two of you walk and then the snow started coming down thickly. He had been saying for the last hour or so “Not much farther” but you’re pretty sure that you’re lost. So when you suggested that he comm someone, he went to pull out his comm device and found that it was dead. Then, you went to try to use yours except you left it at home.

So that’s how your night is going.

“It wasn’t two hours.” You snap. 

“Oh, I’m sorry… an hour and fifty minutes.” He grunts. 

“We need to get out of this snow. Now.” You insist, ignoring his snide comment.

“You think I don’t know that?” He’s been surveying your surroundings for the last fifteen minutes trying to find a safe place to stop and get out of the cold. 

At this point, he’s willing to splurge on a hotel, but the closest thing he can see is a sketchy motel. 

“That place is fine.” You point at the sketchy motel.

“Fine.” He grunts, trying to hide just how cold he is. 

Wolffe also tries to ignore how close you are to him, knowing it’s only because you’re so cold. You weren’t even supposed to be with him right now. Rex had invited you and the look in your eyes was so starry when he asked you. And then Rex had asked Wolffe to pick you up and bring you. He still doesn’t know why.

When you arrive at the dingy motel, the two of you walk into the main office, warm air immediately hitting you in the face so nicely that you both let out a satisfied “Ahhh.” 

The small Aleena man at the desk peers over the counter at you and Wolffe, nervously glancing at Wolffe when he realizes he’s a clone.

You look up at Wolffe, smirking when you realize that he’s thinking of the time that the 104th had to go to Aleen and when he looks down at you, he rolls his eyes. 

“Two rooms.” Wolffe mumbles and you elbow him in the side. “Please.”

You smirk up at him again, going warm in the face from how well he reads you. You have been nursing a crush on the man since the moment you met him, grumpiness and all. You work with the Wolfpack closely as a translator since Wolffe absolutely refused to work with C3-PO ever again. “Only have one available.” He tells Wolffe. 

You and Wolffe share a look and with a sigh, he holds his hand out for the key card. The man gives Wolffe the card and you give the Aleena a polite smile as Wolffe leads you back outside into the cold, and then up some stairs that lead to the rooms. 

When you get up to the room, Wolffe groans and you peer around him, seeing that the room only has one bed. Because of course it does. 

“What a romcom trope.” You laugh, nervously.

“What does that even mean?” He grumbles, going around the room and inspecting it. “Lock the door.”

“Yes sir.” You grumble right back.

He pauses, his shoulders rigid, and looks up at you, his eyes wide. Going hot all over, the cold forgotten, you swallow dryly. Wolffe eyes your form, up and down and you feel like you’re going to combust if he continues to look at you like that.

“What?” You demand, nervously.

“Our clothes are sopping wet…” He turns to crank the heater up and groans, irritated but unsurprised. “Fucking heater doesn’t even work properly…” 

You let out a nervous laugh again and he rolls his eyes, rubbing a hand down his face.

“Glad you think this is funny.” He starts to take his coat off and then his sweater and you turn around. 

“What are you doing?” You ask him.

“You wanna freeze to death in your wet cold clothes? Strip. Now. And then get under the blanket.” He uses his Commander voice and you feel like you’re definitely on fire now. 

You’re absolutely torn because Maker, that commanding tone? But also like… getting naked in the same vicinity as Wolffe? It feels like the universe is playing some cruel prank on you. The man hates you. He makes it well known that he thinks you’re only a burden. 

“I’m… sorry.” He offers, softer, behind you, noticing you pausing. “Just… if you want, I can put a pillow between us… We need to get our body temperatures back up.” 

He’s right. You know he’s right. 

“I won’t look.” He promises you.

But you don’t think you’d mind if he did. Nevertheless, you strip down to nothing and climb under the covers. You’re still shaking under the cover and you can’t tell if it’s from being cold or being near Wolffe. 

“I’m sorry for… earlier.” Wolffe murmurs. 

You shrug, looking over at him. He doesn’t look so big and bad now that he has a blanket pulled up to his chin. You actually can’t help but smile. 

“It’s alright. It’s who you are. I wouldn’t ask you to change.” You shrug. 

“You wouldn’t?” He looks over at you.

“Nah.” You grin.

He gives you a small smile and your chest tightens. 

“Sorry this was a rotten Life Day… I’m sure you’d rather be here with someone more… pleasant.” He murmurs. “Like Rex.” 

You’re still trembling, which Wolffe notices and wants desperately to pull the pillow away so he can pull you to him and warm you up himself. 

“Nope.” You tell him, turning over, scooting closer to the pillow. 

He does the same, so now you’re both cuddling the pillow and your fingers are mere centimeters from each other. 

“No?” 

“Not at all.” 

“I thought when Rex invited you…”

You chuckle. “I think Rex is really nice… but I prefer my men a little grumpy and just over everyone’s shit at all times.” 

He lets out a genuine laugh and it’s probably one of the nicest sounds you’ve ever heard. 

“I honestly thought you hated me…” You admit to him, quietly.

He’s watching your hand and decides to bravely place his over yours. Relief fills his veins when you don’t pull away. Wolffe suddenly realizes why Rex had him bring you to the party. He either owes Rex a handshake or a beating, he isn’t sure yet. 

“I could never.” He tells you, honestly. “Your sunshine demeanor keeps me going most days, if not all days…” 

The breath hitches in your throat at his admission. “Can we…” You pat the pillow and he nods, quickly pulling it away and dropping it on the floor, pulling your body against his immediately, as if he’s been dying to do that. 

He starts to open his mouth to say something, but you clumsily crush your lips to his, making him immediately melt against you. He groans against your lips, enveloping you in his arms, warmth spreading through both of your veins so lightning fast you think you feel warm again.

“I could think of another way to get us warm.” He teases, lightly.

“You read my mind.” You chuckle, tangling your legs with his. 

Somehow, this Life Day turned out to be the best one yet. 

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting  @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover

#25 Days of Life Day #25 Days of Life Day 2023 #Tcw Wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #Commander Wolffe #x reader

[daechwitatamic]

VI. Don't Think About Him || KNJ

(banner by @/itaeewon)

Title: My Feet to Follow, and My Heart to Hold (Masterpost)

Rating: NSFW - minors dni

Genre: college!au, roomie!au, angst, s2l, the absolute slowest of burns

Pairing: Namjoon x female reader, unrequited Taehyung x reader

Beta'd by @/kookstempo, @/casuallyimagining, and @/toikiii - thank you endlessly!

Summary: You know a lot about the many types of love thanks to Kim Taehyung. You love him as the only person you see as “family”, you love him as your very best friend, and you love him as the beautiful, funny man he’s become. But when a twist of fate during your senior year has you rooming with his good friend Kim Namjoon, you just might find that you have plenty left to learn about love. 

Lesson One: there are such things as a right way and a wrong way to love and to be loved.

//

You try - and fail - to figure out who and what you want.

Section Warnings: excessive drinking, bar scenes, language, kissing, groping, maybe grinding idk

WC: 6k

The world is mine: blue hill, still silver lake, Broad field, bright flower, and the long white road A gateless garden, and an open path: My feet to follow, and my heart to hold. - Journey | Edna St. Vincent Millay

Sunday October 28th

Fire burns low in the hearth, but my feet itch and beg to go, into the night where the wolfpack hunts, into the storm of wind and snow.

I can hear only their hunting song. The blizzard steals from me my sight. I have no map to traverse this land, But I peer wistfully into the night.

The wolves, the storm, the wild land, Even still I must decide. I know despite the dangers, I can’t afford to stay inside.

“That’s fucking terrible,” you mutter, closing your book and scooting it away from you in disgust. “Wolves? Am I fourteen? For fuck’s sake.”

Still, it does touch on how you feel: like proceeding forward will result in you getting ripped to metaphorical shreds - but staying here, stuck in the familiar just because you’ve deemed it safe, would somehow be worse.

“Talking to yourself?” someone asks, and you jump with a shriek. 

“Namjoon!” you scold, as you register that it’s him in the doorway. “I thought you weren’t home for a few more hours!”

He crosses the room and tosses his bag onto his bed. “Yoongi has a lead foot.”

“How was it?” you ask mildly.

Namjoon wiggles his head, indicating both good and bad. “The brewery was really fun,” he says. “And it was nice for us all to hang out and talk at the house. We all used to dorm together… it’s been weird not living in the same place as them. I didn’t realize how much I missed it.”

This makes you smile. You’d been to that dorm once or twice, but you’d refused to hang out with Taehyung there because… well, dudes are stinky. And you’re not a clean freak by any means, but it was a little gross over there. 

“Well it was lonely and boring here,” you report. “I’m glad you’re back.” 

You’re instantly unsure if that was too forward, too much. Namjoon going away the literal day after you’d kissed him had given you plenty of time to think in private, but it had also given you room to sow doubts in your own mind. But Namjoon smiles shyly, pleased, so cute it makes your toes wiggle.

“I’m glad to be back too,” he says. “I’m gonna go shower and unpack. Have you made plans for dinner yet? We could order later?”

You hadn’t, but you have a feeling Taehyung will want to hang out after two days away. “I have plans,” you lie, figuring it will end up being true. 

“Ah, no problem then,” Namjoon says easily, and heads into his room, closing the door behind him with a little wave. 

You text Taehyung - “welcome home!! dinner later?” - and get up to start some laundry. By the time it’s done washing, and drying, and you’ve folded it, he still hasn’t answered. 

You try again - “hello??? this is y/n, looking for signs of life???”

This time, the response is almost immediate. 

[4:56 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: sorry [4:56 PM] Tae Bear 🧸: can’t tonight

In the end, you walk to campus alone, eating by yourself in the far corner of the cafeteria. You’ve splurged on ordering too much lately when these meals are built into your tuition. Besides, you don’t want Namjoon to know that your “plans” fell through. 

Friday November 2nd

Angel on the right… Devil on the left… 

You look side to side, conflicted. Such a strong case for each. 

“Are those for tonight?”

You jump, spinning away from the two Halloween costumes you’ve laid out on your bed. It’s not like Namjoon to come over to your side of the apartment; in fact, you’re not sure he’s ever talked to you while you’re in your own room. It’s usually you going over to his door to bother him, if you aren't both in the living room or kitchen. 

“Yeah,” you say. “I can’t decide. You’re coming?”

“I think we all are, except Yoongi,” Namjoon tells you. “I’m going as a detective. I have a magnifying glass and everything.”

You laugh. “I can’t wait to see that. Any thoughts on which way I should go tonight?” You mean the costumes. You’d texted Taehyung for his opinion and he’d returned with, “flip a coin”. You’re not sure why you expected anything else from him. 

“I think that’s going to depend on your mood,” Namjoon teases. “How are we feeling today? Naughty or nice?”

You raise your eyebrows. Was that… outright flirtation? “What if I’m feeling both?” you ask.

He laughs. “You need one of those half-and-half costumes. I’ve seen them in the stores.”

You have too, but you think they’re cheesy. “I think I’ll go devil,” you muse, a finger on your lips as you consider. “The angel wings are pretty cumbersome. And the bars are going to be slammed.”

“Naughty it is.” Namjoon flashes you a grin and disappears from your doorway, throwing over his shoulder, “No complaints from me!”

You slap a hand over your mouth to muffle the giggle. Well this is new, and damn, you want to keep playing. 

You Uber together to the first bar of the town’s Halloween pub crawl, the guys waiting for you outside. Taehyung howls in laughter at Namjoon’s long coat, fedora, and magnifying glass. 

“I see the devil won the coin toss,” he says to you, grinning.

You roll your eyes, still a little peeved that he couldn’t take anything seriously, even when you needed him to. This was a trivial thing, but still. It wasn’t a lot to ask.

Jungkook hands you and Namjoon a flyer with a QR code - it listed the locations of each bar and what time the group would move, in case you got lost or missed the exodus. Inside, you have to pay to get wristbanded, but the wristband earns you special prices at each of the stops. 

“This does not go with my costume,” you pretend to pout, the bright yellow wristband glaring against your short, red dress.

“I think everyone will understand,” Namjoon teases. Taehyung appears on your other side, pointing out the little laminated sign that advertises this bar’s drink specials. 

“You two need to catch up,” he insists.

Three hours and two bars later, you think you’ve achieved this. You and Taehyung cling to each other’s arms, holding each other up, somehow taking turns being the one who needs help staying upright. The first two bars had offered specials on shots, but this one only has special offers for mixed drinks and beer. 

“Do we pay full price for shots, or do we let The Man tell us it’s time to settle down?” you muse loudly into Taehyung’s ear.

“Don’t start with that shit,” he tells you. “This is Halloween, not a hippie convention.”

“I see at least four hippies,” you sniff indignantly.

“I think you’re seeing double,” he counters. “No more shots for you.”

“You aren’t in charge of me!” you yell, and head for the bar at a clip, ankles crying for mercy in your heels. You grasp the bar in both hands when you get there, steady yourself, and then reach up to fix your horn headband, which had been starting to slide. You thought Taehyung was right behind you, but when you turn to look, he’s talking to a girl in a mermaid costume. 

Of course.

It’s fine.

The bartender finally catches your eye and you flash your wristband, indicating you’ll take the special. He nods, turns and picks up a bottle. A body settles beside you; you turn, expecting that Taehyung caught up, or maybe Jungkook stopped by for a beer. Instead, a guy you’ve never seen before smiles at you. 

He’s in scrubs, complete with a fake stethoscope (you think it’s fake, anyway) slung around his neck. His nametag reads Dr. Love. You laugh out loud. “That’s so corny,” you say, your filter well and gone for the night.

Luckily, he laughs too. “It’s sewed on!” he protests. “I honestly almost Sharpied it out, but I thought that would look even stupider.” 

He’s really cute, you notice. He looks… clean. Older. 

“You look…” he trails off, letting his eyes roam to your feet and back appreciatively, “phenomenal. Is there an angel wandering around here looking for you?”

You grin. “Just me.”

If Kim Taehyung can find a hookup everywhere he goes, why can’t you?

But as you lean against the bar and take a sip of your drink, your eyes scan the bar before you. In the mirrored wall behind the team of bartenders, you can see a slightly distorted view of the patrons and all of their costumes. 

Your eye catches on a detective. 

Namjoon’s eyes hold yours through the mirror, though he’s about six seats down from you. There’s a tiny smile on his lips as he sips at what looks like a beer. A smile that says maybe he should have expected this. It’s the same face he’s seen on you when Taehyung does exactly what he did tonight. 

Beside you, Dr. Love is asking you something, but you don’t hear him at all. You don’t want to be here, in this spot, anymore. You want to be six seats over.

“I’m sorry,” you say, interrupting him, plastering a sickly-sweet smile on your face. “I just found one of my friends, and I’d lost them. Enjoy your night, though!”

You slip away before he can protest more than a syllable, before you can really register the disappointment on his face and feel guilty about it. Better luck next time, Doctor, you think, as you make your way to Namjoon.

As soon as you’re close enough he extends an arm, making a space for you right next to him. His arm tucks you closer, protective. He walks with you towards the far end of the bar, where it’s marginally less crowded. Once you settle into a spot there, he doesn’t remove his arm. His fingers rest on your bare, body-glittered shoulder, moving imperceptibly now and then, as if they have their own agenda. 

“Are you having fun?” you ask him. 

“Loud bars aren’t usually my thing,” he answers. “But the costumes are great.”

There’s a lot of alcohol in your system; your filter’s taken a hit. “I like this,” you sigh happily, closing your eyes for a second. You think you sway on your feet a little. The arm around your shoulders tightens.

“Like what?” His voice has gone deep, and you shiver a little. You want to kiss him again; you’d blame the shots but you’ve been thinking about it since it happened. The drinks just make it louder.

“Your arm around me,” you tell him honestly, and he ducks his head, dimples appearing along with a blush.

He shakes his head, still smiling. “You’re drunk,” he accuses playfully.

“It’s a Halloween pub crawl,” you point out flatly. “I’m supposed to be drunk.”

“That’s a fair point,” he allows. Then, he peers at you through squinted eyes. “Are you okay, though? How drunk are you?”

You consider this. “Drunk enough that I want to kiss you again, to hell with the consequences. Not too drunk to remember that there would be consequences.”

The playfulness leaves his face; it’s too obvious not to notice. “Consequences like what?”

It’s a challenge. He knows you know it.

“Namjoon,” you say, a little pleading. Don’t. 

“Consequences like Taehyung would see?” he presses. His voice has gone hard. He’s tiptoed around this issue before, but it’s the first time either of you have ever really given it life.

You feel like you want to cry. “Are you mad? About Taehyung?”

He softens. His fingers brush your shoulder again, absently. “No,” he admits, deflated. “No, I guess I’m not. But we both know that’s what you meant.” He removes his arm from your shoulders. It hangs listlessly at his side. You feel its absence painfully, like it had kept you tethered and now you might float away.

“Hey,” you say sharply, and reach for his hand. You miss and get his wrist, but you hold it like your life depends on it. He looks at you curiously. “I like you,” you tell him firmly. “A lot. I’m trying not to mess everything up - with anyone. But he’s my family, and if I lose him…” You take a deep gulp of air, trying to will your pulse to calm, your stomach to settle, your eyes to clear of stupid tears. “I have no one left. It feels… delicate,” you finish finally. You need him to understand. You wish you were better at explaining.

Namjoon twists his wrist from your grasp gently, but takes your fingers in his. “What about me?” he asks, voice a little pouty. “We aren’t delicate?”

You smile at him, relief giving you more of a high than anything else could right now. “No,” you say, and touch his chest lightly, just over his beating heart. You brush your hand down his chest, drop it to your side, and turn to stare out at the crowd. “No,” you say again, finishing the thought. “You aren’t delicate at all. You’re steady. That’s something I really like about you.”

There’s a moment of silence that stretches between you, tension building like a bassline, and then he gives a tug to the hand he’s holding. You turn back to look at him.

“What do you want, Y/N?” he asks plaintively. 

You open your mouth immediately to answer, but he cuts you off.

“Don’t think about him when you answer that,” he commands seriously, fingers clutching yours so tightly it almost hurts. “Don’t think about anything else but you and me. What do you want?”

What do you want?

“I…” you start feebly, unsure how you’ll even finish the sentence. “I want…”

Jimin rushes up to you, breathless, grabbing both of your arms. Namjoon drops your hand like it’s burned him. If Jimin notices, he doesn’t let on. 

“We have to go,” he pants. “Literally right now. Jungkook hit on some huge guy’s girlfriend, it’s about to be a thing. Help me find everybody?”

“Where are they?” Namjoon asks, quickly setting his beer glass on the bar and reaching for your drink too. You let him take it, eyes wide. 

“Taehyung grabbed Jungkook and ran - I think they’re outside. Have you seen Hobi? Or Jin?”

“Jin left with a girl two bars ago,” you supply, glad to be able to help. 

“I see Hobi,” Namjoon says, craning his neck to scan the crowd. “I’ll go get him. Y/N, go with Jimin, we’ll meet up outside.”

He moves without waiting for an answer, wading through the crowd in what must be Hobi’s direction. Jimin takes you by the hand - it feels much different than it had felt a minute ago with Namjoon - and leads you through the crowd hurriedly, dodging people left and right. You look over your shoulder as he pulls you, trying to find Namjoon in the sea of people, but you can’t.

Outside, Jungkook seems to be arguing heatedly with the bouncer. 

“Come on,” Taehyung is telling him, looking honestly pissed. “Let’s just go. The night’s already ruined, let’s just leave.”

You pull away from Jimin and head for Taehyung. 

“Hey,” you say softly, resting a hand on his arm. He turns on you, still furious, but you don’t waver. “Take a breath,” you tell him softly. 

His temper gets the best of him sometimes. 

He shakes his head, angry, but you see his chest move as he obeys anyway. A second later he says, more calmly, “Come on, Jungkook, we can even go somewhere else if you want. We won’t have fun here, that guy’s friends are all worked up in there.”

Jungkook relents as Hobi and Namjoon join you on the sidewalk. You slide your hand off of Taehyung’s arm, feeling weirdly guilty. 

“We rallying?” Hobi asks hopefully. “Or did we kill the buzz?”

“Rally!” Jimin cheers, going over and shaking a sullen Jungkook’s shoulder. “Come on! The night prevails!”

“I’ll go somewhere else,” Taehyung says. 

“I think I’m done,” Namjoon says, glancing at his phone for the time. “I’ll Uber from here.”

“Y/N?” Taehyung asks, looking to you. For a second, you’re not sure why. Then you realize - you either have to Uber home with Namjoon, or opt to continue on with the rest of the guys. 

The angel whispers that you haven’t hung out with Taehyung as much lately. 

The devil whispers that you and Namjoon could be all alone.

0-2 for the angels tonight.

“I’m tired,” you say. “I’ll Uber with Namjoon. You guys have fun though. JK, try to keep it in your pants.”

He flips you off wordlessly, still sulking. 

They all tell you goodbye, Taehyung giving you an extra-tight squeeze with his hug, and they walk down the block to find another bar. You turn to Namjoon, who’s tapping at his phone to order a ride. 

What do you want? His question floats in your head. 

You don’t know. You want too much, too many things, too many contradictions. 

It seems like Namjoon knows, and forgives you. He silently holds out a hand, waiting. You take it, keeping it tight in yours, not letting go even as you slide into the backseat of the Uber, as it weaves through the neighborhoods until it stops in front of your building, as it drives away, leaving you lit in red taillights before vanishing around the corner.

You’re standing on the sidewalk in front of your building’s front door, Namjoon’s hand in yours, your eyes sleepy but your pulse racing. 

He tugs you towards the stairs, and you think he’s going to lead you inside. Instead he spins you and presses you back against the stone balustrade, one hand splayed across the middle of your spine, the other cupping your jaw as he kisses you insistently.

You open immediately for him, giving a happy noise low in your throat. His spare hand, the one not holding you up off the rough stone below, grips the back of your neck for the barest of seconds before continuing down - rubbing patterns past your shoulder blade, the middle of your back, down to the dip of your waist, the swell of your hip, the meat of your ass. He’d better appreciate every curve, you squeezed into spanx for this dress. 

You grip at the lapels of his ridiculous detective coat, the earth spinning in circles around you in a blur. You’re aware of only where your hands bunch the fabric, of only where his teeth and lips and tongue clash with yours, of only the fiery path his hand traces up and down your body. You melt into his touch, wanting more, trying to pull him closer, trying to get lost in each sensation.

He breaks the kiss to nip a line of sharp nibbles down your neck. You whine, trying to give him more room. His hands come to rest on your ribcage, thumbs not quite reaching your chest, which has to be a conscious decision on his part. You can feel the cold night air on your thighs; your dress has ridden up. This snaps you out of the moment a little. 

“Namjoon,” you murmur, but it comes out a little whiny as he continues to nibble down near the juncture of your neck and shoulder. “We should go inside.”

He stills, then pulls away, eyes seeking yours for any signs of discontent. “Yeah,” he says finally, one syllable all he can handle. “Come on.”

He releases your body gently, letting you find your balance on the pavement. Then, he leads you up the stairs and inside. In the threshold of the apartment, you look at him, a question on your face.

“We’re both really drunk,” he says apologetically, reaching out to brush some stray hairs away from your face. “We should probably cool down a little.”

He’s right - you know he’s right. 

“Yeah,” you say, letting the front door close behind you. “Okay.”

You press one palm against the wall for balance as you fight with your shoes, sliding them off one at a time. 

Namjoon’s in his room, but the door hangs open. You pause in the doorway of your bedroom, realizing you have a problem.

“Um, hey,” you call across the living room, and he takes a few steps to come look at you. He’s lost the hat and the long coat, and his button-down is undone, revealing a tight, white undershirt beneath. “I promise this isn’t a come-on,” you say, biting back a smile. “But I legitimately can’t reach the zipper on this. Can you-?”

“Of course,” he says, crossing the living room. You turn your back to him, presenting the zipper. He gently sweeps your hair off of your nape and places it over your shoulder. You shiver, goosebumps rising along your arms, and you hear him hum a pleased noise at your reaction. You feel him fumble with the hook-and-eye at the top, and then the zipper sounds. He pauses halfway down your back.

“That good?” he checks. “You can reach that?”

“Yes,” you say, turning back to face him. He’s still got a bit of your lipstick on his mouth, and it makes you have to fight off a smirk. Down, girl. “Goodnight, Namjoon.”

He looks at you for a long minute, expression unreadable. Finally, he says, “Goodnight,” and steps back out into the darkness of the living room. When he gets to his room this time, he closes the door behind him with a soft click. You stare at the inch of light that comes from under his door for a minute before hurrying to close your own door against the dark.

Sunday November 4th

You spend most of Saturday in bed, heart and head both pounding, which means you have a lot of homework to cram in on Sunday.

After you shower and eat, you set up in the living room to get some work done. Namjoon’s door is halfway open, and you can hear the clacking and bass thumps that mean he’s writing in there. 

Midafternoon, he appears in his doorway, stretching widely. Your eyes skim the inch of stomach exposed with the stretch and then flick back to your page before he can catch you. 

“How’s it going?” he asks, heading into the kitchen. 

You twist your mouth, eyeing your laptop and the text spread open on your lap. “I guess it’s going. Sort of.” 

“What are you working on?” he asks.

“A paper for one of the bullshit general classes,” you tell him. “Which makes it more challenging, because I deeply do not care.”

He laughs at this, then plops onto the couch a few feet away from you, a water bottle in his hands. 

“How about you?” you ask. “It sounded like it was going well.”

“It was going okay,” he agrees. “I reached the end of a scene, so now I need to like… process, look at what’s coming next. I might take a short walk and let it marinate in my brain a little.”

You smile. “How come you never work out here?” you ask him, just curious. 

He gives a quick, self-deprecating laugh. “I wouldn’t get anything done. I’d just talk to you.”

You flush, feeling your face heat up, and bite back a smile. “What if I refused to answer?” you offer. “I could just sit here like -.” You mime zipping your lips, still fighting a smile. For good measure, you lock it up and throw the key over your shoulder.

His smile grows. “Wouldn’t help. I’d still be able to look at you.”

Your blush intensifies; you’re tempted to go stick your head in the freezer to cool your cheeks down. “I’ll turn around, then,” you tell him.

His grin turns wolfish. “I assure you, that will not solve the problem.”

Your jaw drops. “Kim Namjoon!” you scold, but you’re giggling.

“I’m just being honest!” he defends, laughing deeply, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Anyway, why? Does it bother you that I stay in there?”

“No,” you say immediately. “You can do what you want.”

He gives you a knowing look, like he’s used to your bullshit and isn’t falling for it. When did that happen? “Don’t get prickly,” he warns. 

“Don’t compare me to plants,” you grumble. 

“Do you want me to work out here instead?” he asks gently, smiling at you like you’re adorable, which just sets your prickliness off even more.

“I don’t know what I want,” you retort.

There’s a long, stretchy silence as you both consider just how true those words are, on several different levels. 

Finally, Namjoon gives you a nod in goodbye and heads back to his room. 

This time, he closes the door gently behind him.

–

Taehyung invites you out that night, to see a movie you’d been talking about. You tell him yes, as long as you can go to the earlier showing. But then you start to feel… guilty. Unsure.

You want to ask Namjoon if he cares if you hang out with Taehyung still. He’s bothered by some aspect of your friendship, obviously, but you don’t know what it is. Is it only the fact that Taehyung is a bit of a barrier for you two? Or is he threatened by the whole friendship? 

You lay sideways across your bed in the fading late afternoon light, considering this. You imagine asking Namjoon. You think his answer would probably be, do what you want, I’m not your boyfriend. 

Which, fair. That conversation needs to come first. Are you together, do either of you even really want that? 

In the end, you don’t bring it up. When it’s time, you do your best to sneak out of the apartment, hoping to avoid any conversation about it at all.

Taehyung’s car idles on the street below, and you let yourself in the passenger side and buckle up. You’re anxious, you realize, as Taehyung starts complaining about an argument he had with Jimin back at their place. You’re afraid he’ll ask something that will lead the conversation to Namjoon, afraid that he’ll catch you tripping up, clue in that there’s something worth his attention there. 

You can’t lie to him. He knows this as well as you do.

That’s why he never asks you questions he doesn’t really want the answers to.

You’re anxious for nothing, because Taehyung talks about his own shit for the whole drive to the movies, and the whole time you’re in line for snacks, and for the whole time before the movie starts as you sit in the back row of the theater munching on overpriced popcorn.

But the movie is good, and you get pulled into the fictional world, and when the lights come on you find Taehyung’s arm casually over the back of your seat. You hadn’t even noticed it was there. 

“I can’t believe Jimin wouldn’t come see this,” Taehyung scoffs as you file out of the theater and back to the lobby. “That was so good! Just because he doesn’t like that one actor?”

You’re curious if Taehyung would have still asked you to join him tonight if Jimin hadn’t turned him down first. 

But, like Taehyung, you don’t ask questions if you aren’t prepared to hear the truth. So you don’t ask. What would be the point?

You wonder during the drive home if you’d feel better talking to Taehyung about what was going on with you if the guy in question wasn’t his friend.

Maybe.

But only a little better.

Monday November 5th 

Unlike the Monday before, Namjoon leaves for campus without you on Monday morning. You aren’t sure if he’s upset with you, or if he just needed to be there early. You’re too cowardly to ask. 

You need some support.

If it’s not coming from your “best friend”, you’ll have to outsource. 

You trudge through your morning class, eat as fast as you can - alone - in the cafeteria, and head to the student center. You get to the store well before your shift starts. 

You aren’t allowed to clock in yet, so you kill some time doing reading for class in the stock room. The second your shift starts, you’re at the front registers, uncomfortably close to Kris’s personal bubble.

“Yes?” they ask you archly, eyeing your proximity suspiciously. 

“I… have a confession to make,” you say, your voice as quiet as you can make it. You’re barely moving your mouth, you’re trying so hard to not actually say these words. “There… has been… perhaps… some kissing.”

Kris is stunned into silence for the first time since you’ve known them. Eyes wide and jaw slack, they stare at you. Then, they clarify loudly, “By you?”

You growl in exasperation. “Don’t be cute.”

Kris beams. “Can’t help it, it’s ingrained in my DNA.”

“I need you to be just a tiny bit serious,” you tell them, “because I am having a full-blown crisis.”

Kris sobers instantly. “Wait,” they whisper. “Crisis? Explain.”

“I kissed…” you cast your eyes around the bookstore, making sure no one’s lurking, “...the one I live with.”

Kris gasps. “You did not! You kissed him? Not the other way around?”

“I did,” you admit, feeling yourself flush again. “Twice. Well, the second time he started it, if you want to get technical.”

“I do want to get technical,” Kris whispers, voice almost reverent. “I can’t fucking believe this. So, why the crisis?”

You take a deep breath. Which factor to start with? Because you don’t want to give up on Taehyung yet? Because you don’t want to risk altering that friendship beyond repair? Because you don’t know if Namjoon will be able to handle your best friend being a guy - a guy that you’ve had feelings for?

“Because I don’t know what I want,” you say, the simplest truth. “I can’t get my head straight.”

Kris cocks their head. “If you didn’t know Taehyung - if you removed him completely from the situation -.”

“Impossible,” you protest.

They hold up a finger to silence you. “If you removed him from the situation,” they continue over you, “would you want to pursue things with Namjoon?”

Guilt hits you like an ocean wave, tugging you down, down, down. “Yes,” you whisper, because that part is just true. There’s no wiggle room, no if’s. You like him. You want to see where it will go. If there were no chance of losing Taehyung in the mix, it wouldn’t be a question at all.

“Y/N,” Kris says insistently, leaning towards you. “You are not doing anything wrong here. Taehyung is your friend. Nothing else - and that’s his fault. You aren’t, like, betraying him by catching feelings for someone else. He can’t expect you to sit around waiting for him until you die!”

“He doesn’t expect that,” you say, still in a whisper, because suddenly your throat is tight in that way it gets when you’re upset. 

“You need to talk to Taehyung,” Kris tells you gently. You groan. “And the conversation should not be you asking for permission, either!” they continue, impassioned. “You need to tell him I’m seeing someone and you need to be okay with it.”

“But they’re friends,” you protest. “It’s so messy. I’ve never had messy before.”

“You’ve never had anything before,” Kris points out.

“That wasn’t nice,” you grumble. “Yes I have.”

“Nothing that mattered,” they correct. “Nothing with feelings.”

You slump onto the counter. “I hate this.”

“I’m telling you,” Kris says airily. “If you don’t talk to them, this is all going to blow up in your face. You can’t have your cake and eat it, too.”

“Why do you have to be right all the time,” you complain. Kris smiles beatifically.  

When your shifts ends, your feet take you not towards home, but towards the academic building where Namjoon’s “office” is. 

You’re thinking about your conversation about Kris; you’re thinking about the idea of fairness. 

It isn’t fair, as Kris said, for Taehyung to expect you to wait indefinitely for something that was probably never coming, to hold you emotionally hostage.

It isn’t fair for you to do the same thing to Namjoon - to keep him waiting, wondering, unsure if you’ll ever be completely in it. You know that’s the reason things have kept progressing so slowly between you. You’ve felt guilty letting it get any further, felt afraid of those damn consequences. And if you had to bet, Namjoon has been trying to wait for you to sort it out, to make the choice - to choose him. 

You can hear the low tones of his voice as you approach down the quiet hallway. Only the staff are normally back here, sometimes one or two students who need to speak to a professor, so there’s not a lot of foot traffic. 

You linger in the hallway, leaning against the wall and messing around on your phone, far enough away to not be able to tell what Namjoon and the student are discussing. When the student - a young guy who looks absolutely dejected as he passes by you - exits, you slip past him and lean against the doorway. Namjoon doesn’t notice you right away. It’s clear that his hours have ended and he’s packing up his stuff. When he does notice a body in the doorway, he jumps, inhaling sharply in alarm.

He slumps against the back of the chair when he registers that it’s you.

“I’m usually the jumpy one,” you giggle. 

He gives you a sideways smile as he leaves over his bag on the floor, messing with the clasp. “I didn’t expect to see anyone else. What are you - I mean, what’s up?” 

“What am I doing here?” you tease, catching his slip. You feel a little nervous, but you’re determined to do this correctly, to treat him better. “I came to see if you wanted to walk back together.”

Namjoon goes a little still, and you hurry to add, “It’s okay if you don’t! It didn’t make my walk longer or anything to come here first. I just thought I’d check.”

He lets you babble. He does as he’s been doing since the beginning - he waits you out with a patient smile. 

“So…” you finally finish, the nerves fluttering and hopping around your stomach. “Do you? Want to walk back with me?”

He stands, lifting his bag from the ground and hoisting it onto his shoulder. “Yes,” he says simply, giving you a tiny smile. 

You follow him down the narrow hallway, back down the stairs you’d climbed a minute ago, and outside. It’s a nice day - bright and sunny, chilly but not freezing. Campus is busy, and you have to people-dodge a little as you cross the main section, the crossroads of the two main paths. 

The second you cross through the front gate and step onto the city sidewalk on the other side, Namjoon silently reaches for your hand. It’s different from last time, in the rain - not urgent, not pulling. It’s gentle and tentative and, weirdly, somehow sensual the way his thumb runs over your knuckles as he glances sideways at you to see if you’re okay with this.

You give his fingers a tiny squeeze.

You walk together in silence for a few minutes, and then Namjoon asks you quietly. “How was your day? You had class this morning? Was it for Thesis?”

You smile up at him, happy to have someone to talk to about this. Kris would listen, you’re sure, because Kris is a good human, but they would much rather talk about romance. And Taehyung… it’s November, and Taehyung has asked you about your classes or your thesis exactly zero times. 

“No, not for my thesis,” you tell him. “Just a regular lit class. It was okay! I was so tired, I could barely stay awake… I think I’m still recovering from the weekend.”

He laughs. “Can’t imagine why,” he teases, voice going a little deeper. “I’m sure you were a perfect angel all weekend long.”

The joke - that you’d dressed as a devil - is not lost on you, and you grin up at him. “Clever,” you say.

He beams back, proud. “Sometimes,” he allows.

“How about you?” you ask. “Did you have class before your TA hours?”

“Yep,” he says, nodding. “Unfortunately, it was a research-based class.”

You groan in sympathy. “First thing on a Monday morning? Fucking ouch.”

“Tell me about it,” he says with a shake of his head. “I’m not much of a napper, but damn, I could use a nap.”

At the apartment, you decide to watch a show you’re in the middle of, and you settle on the couch with a throw-blanket over your legs. Namjoon appears in the doorway of his bedroom, looking at you a little balefully.

“Can I… do you mind if I read out here?” he asks.

You scramble to sit up a little making room on the other side of the couch. “You don’t need to ask,” you say, a little appalled that he’d felt the need. “You live here! I never mind, I promise.”

Appeased, he makes his way over and gets comfortable on the other side of the couch. It occurs to you that this is how you and Taehyung usually spend your time - on opposite ends of the couch - but you shove the thought away. 

You glance at him now and then as your show plays, and a few times you think you catch him watching more than reading. In between episodes, you notice his book face-down on his chest, rising and falling in deep, even motions. His head leans back against the arm of the couch, and his eyelids flutter as he dreams. 

Smiling a tiny smile, you fluff your blanket to cover his legs, and press play for the next episode.

<- Prev || Next ->

Thank you so much for being here!!!!! What did we think of what I lovingly call "the Halloween Pub Crawl Fiasco"?!

Section VII will drop on Friday, February 24th! I hope to see you there!!

#bts fanfic #bts x reader #namjoon fanfic #namjoon fic #namjoon x reader #namjoon angst #namjoon smut #namjoon x you #bts fic #Namjoon fanfic #rm fanfic #kim namjoon fanfic #rm angst #rm smut #rm x reader #strangers to lovers #s2l #college au #roomie au #rm fic #fic: mffmhh #slow burn

[wizardofrozz]

hi, Rozz!!! from the kiss prompts, can I please request:

"i'm sorry, i had to." with Sawbones (simping uncontrollably for him tbh)

can’t wait to see how the mean one handles a first kiss 😅

Love It When You Hate Me

OC Sawbones x reader, Original Clone Troopers

Word Count: ~1.5k

Warnings: mention of injury, Sawbones being an asshole. I think that's it lol

A/N: Thank you for the ask Sev 🖤 I get so unbelievably happy when anyone simps of Sawbones lmao I got a little carried away with this but I don't even care, it was worth it 😂

Before the war, you hadn’t traveled much, staying busy in the emergency wing of Coruscant General. Then Geonosis happened, millions of troopers materializing out of thin air to fight a war most people hadn’t even been expecting. That was how you ended up working for the GAR, traveling around the galaxy to lend your medical knowledge to the troops that needed it most. You had visited several medical centers and worked alongside combat medics across numerous battalions.  

The Ord Cestus Medical Center was your most recent assignment, offering an extra set of hands after a large influx of troopers came in. You smiled at the clone stretched out on the bed before you as you checked his vitals. You didn’t even know his name but it didn’t seem to matter to him. 

“Am I gonna make it, doc?” he asked, a smirk lifting the side of his mouth. The trooper’s arm was secured to his chest, his right shoulder still healing after being violently ripped from the socket. 

“Mm, I don’t know,” you teased, smiling when he laughed. It was a welcomed sound in a place so steeped in pain, meaning you noticed when it cut off abruptly. You checked for any sign that he was in pain but his expression gave nothing away; you followed his eyes across the room and held in a sigh. 

As a civilian, you hadn’t been sent into combat areas, making relief missions your most common assignment. Most of the time you spent with a battalion was fleeting but there was one that was an exception: the 104th battalion, the Wolfpack. General Plo Koon’s men still fought infantry battles but they also spent the most time rescuing other troops or offering aid to civilians. If it was by accident or due to a request from the general, you were called in, along with a few other civilians, to offer their medics a few extra hands. 

Now, seeing one of those medics, most notably the chief medical officer, wasn’t what you were expecting.

Sawbones looked just as stormy as ever despite the crutches he was hobbling around on. You had heard the stories, the things he’d done in the name of the Republic but your inner idealist wrote them off as exaggerations. Although, when he trooper beside you shifted uncomfortably, glancing at you, it made you wonder. You followed Sawbones’ journey across the room, letting your eyes linger when he stopped at another Wolfpack member’s bed. You huffed under your breath and turned back to the trooper you were treating, gently patting his arm. 

“Get some rest,” you ordered with a smile. The trooper flashed you a tense smile before shuffling down, stretching out on his bed. The next patient on your list was a few beds down, closer to where Sawbones was still lingering and you slowed your pace. You had your fair share of run-ins with the Wolfpack’s mean CMO and while his attitude made you want to steer clear of him, there was something about him that had your mind wandering back to him.

Sawbones was harsh on a good day but you had also witnessed a side to him that you’d almost consider...soft. He threw nasty comments around, scaring off anyone who dared get too close but he cared for his injured men with a gentle hand. You had a feeling his threats weren’t empty, but he wanted to help more than hurt, even if he had a funny way of showing it. 

Sawbones turned his head slightly as you neared your next patient. His beard was neatly trimmed and you could only remember seeing it long and unruly out on the field. Now that you thought about it, that was the first time you had seen him in anything but his armor; the starchy, gray scrubs made him look softer, less abrasive. You offered the trooper, Dodger, a smile as you approached his bed. It was hard to miss the anxiety lining his expression and you hoped the simple gesture helped a little bit. Dodger’s jaw flexed but he squared his shoulders, taking a deep breath in preparation. 

“How are you feeling, Dodger?” you asked, perching on the corner of his bed near his feet.

“Been better,” he mumbled, pointedly not looking at the hip-to-ankle cast he wore. You could feel eyes on your back and ignored the curious glances as you reached for his hand. Recovery was going to take some time but there was nothing unrepairable. 

“Enough babying them.” You jumped at the voice from over your shoulder, twisting around to find Sawbones leaning on his crutches, his face twisted in a scowl. “They’re soldiers, not children.” There was a tense silence as you just gaped at him, taken aback by the bitter edge to his voice. Endless, dark eyes bore into yours and it took you a second to shake off the shock.

“Excuse me?” Sawbones arched a brow before shifting his attention to Dodger over your shoulder.

“You live to fight another day. Congratulations,” Sawbones said, his tone flat and uninterested. Dodger blinked a few times before letting out a long, slow breath, and slumping down in his bed. 

“Uh, thank you, sir,” he murmured, nodding at the medic. Sawbones grunted before making a slow turn, heading back across the room and all you could do was stare after him. When you looked back at Dodger, there was a half-smile on his face that only grew when he caught the flabbergasted expression on your face. 

Then the anger started to build, swelling like an impending storm and you stood so fast you staggered. Dodger tried to get your attention but you were already stalking toward the door Sawbones disappeared through. Finding him was easy, seeing that he could only move so fast and you picked up your pace. You could only imagine the look on your face but it must’ve been ominous enough for any passing staff to step out of your way. 

You caught a glimpse of Sawbones disappearing into one of the smaller labs scattered around the medical center and hurried after him. There was one other clone sitting at one of the benches when you stepped inside, the pair turning to look at you. 

“Leave,” you ordered, stepping away from the door. The clone hesitated, glancing at Sawbones and it only made your anger spike. “Out.” Sawbones leaned against the workbench, taking some of the weight off his broken leg, his head turning to follow the other clone as he stomped out of the room.

“What?” he asked, arching a brow. 

“How dare you," you hissed, storming across the room, carelessly invading his personal space. “I am not one of your subordinates that you can talk down to. You had no right to step in like that.”

“And?” The unbothered air around him made you seethe; any crush you thought you might’ve had on him got shoved to the back of your mind. You ground your teeth together, taking another step closer.

“I don’t care what your problem is. I don’t care why you act like an asshole as if it’s your job but you will not treat me like some incompetent moof-milker.” You jabbed a finger into his chest, relishing in the quiet grunt he let out. “I’ve worked my ass off all my life and if you’re so emotionally constipated that my kindness bothers you, then I’d suggest sucking it the fuck up.” 

Sawbones blinked at you, his eyes flickering down to where your finger was still pressed into his chest; when his eyes lifted again they seemed shadowed and it sent an involuntary shiver down your spine. Suddenly, you felt your confidence withering as his expression darkened, his head tilting down, bringing your faces closer together. Just as you were about to take a step back, Sawbones surged forward, slanting his mouth against yours as he cradled the back of your head.

Your eyes widened comically but it didn’t deter him and before you knew it you were melting against him. His mustache tickled your skin and you found that you liked it, closing your fist, tugging him closer by his scrub top. Sawbones rumbled deep in his chest, parting your lips to slip his tongue into your mouth and you whined involuntarily.

It was just a kiss and yet it felt more erotic than any other kiss you’d shared with another person. The movement of his tongue was a mockery of what you desperately wished his hips were doing and it made you shiver. Sawbones broke the kiss so suddenly your head spun and you swayed closer, following his lips before you could catch yourself. 

“Sorry,” Sawbones panted, his hand sliding down to your neck, “I had to. I like it when you get mean.” 

“I shouldn’t be surprised,” you whispered, still trying to catch your breath. “You only speak one language: asshole.” It felt like a monumental accomplishment when Sawbones laughed; it was a sharp, harsh sound but it brought a smile to your face nonetheless.

“I speak another language too,” he murmured, bumping your noses together. 

“Yeah? What’s that?” You barely finished the sentence before he pulled you into another dizzying kiss. Yeah, you would happily speak this language too.

Ragu list:

@a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @starrylothcat @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @trixie2023 @wolffegirlsunite @clonemedickix @sev-on-kamino @commander-sunshine @dukeoftheblackstar

#clone oc x reader #sawbones x reader #original clone trooper x reader #OC: CT-2697 Sawbones #OC: Sawbones #star wars #the clone wars

[veny-many]

STAR WARS ADVENTURES: THE CLONE WARS-BATTLE TALES ISSUE #2 is for wolfpack fans and i love it.

JUST LOOK AT THAT WOLFFE'S SMILE

Like he smiles everytime in this comics how could he smile all the time in this comics since he never ever smiles peacefully and happily in the clone wars im crying right now

He's just happy boy who likes to go along with his boys and his general. He's a good big brother and son.

And now Comet being the most aggressive boy in wolfpack makes me cringe.

And Wolffe's like 'okay calm down little bro you can't just shoot everything like that' leader(big bro) makes me cringe more.

Aaaaaaand Sinker casually jinxing his bros lmao

They really argue like annoying brothers. I love it so much.

Before the malevolence I bet the Comet was the sassest and most sarcastic youngest in wolfpack bc look at this.

He's so annoyed by flying clankers.

And now he looked like scared and desperate. Saying they can't make it alive. He has fast and realistic judgment and he knows they'll never make it

And Wolffe is just talking to his bros it'll be alright like oldest child reassure their younger siblings when they're in danger or afraid. Its nice somehow heartbreaking...

And don't worry the General came to save his boys!

I like he was riding his starfighter before and now he's in gunship and came for Wolfpack.

Like 'Well seems like my boys in trouble my job is done and I'm gonna quickly hop out of my jet and get in gunship and search for them!'.

And he do cares for them. He's just happy nobody hurt or died and that's all he cares and it BREAKS MY HEART BC HE DID LOST MANY FRIENDS AND FAMILIES IN MANY BATTLES BEFORE SO HE JUST HAPPY THAT HIS BOYS ALRIGHT.

And Wolffe is like 'that's my general!' And smiles happily. This is happy. And sad. Just both.

And after malevolence and khorm he's just... sass, and cold, and annoyed by many other thing and doesn't SMILE.

Or... maybe he just smiles like... only when he talks to his wolfpack and general while relaxed, and that's why we never could see him smile??

Either way he became sad boy after so many lost brother and it always makes me sad too. I know he had big heart, being great big brother, and happy smiles, and naive but honest and good boy. But war made him devastated and angry and depressed.

It's still good that at least he had his wolfpack bros, and plo koon, even and after war he had Rex and Gregor together. He can't leave alone. He can't be lone wolf bc he's sad big brother and needs some pack that he needs to take care and live together and ever.

#the clone wars #star wars #104th battalion #commander wolffe #wolf pack #plo koon #wolfpack makes me sad #and in fact what clone doesn't make us sad right? #they're just children #my whump

[somestorythoughts]

Eldritch Clone Troopers Again

I’m gonna revisit the Clones-Become-Something-Other idea but this time it’s not because of the Jedi.

The galaxy is, to put it bluntly, really fucking big. There’s a lot of weird not-understood-by-any-or-many stuff in it. And sure, the Force is all-encompassing and omnipresent, but that doesn’t mean everyone understands it the same. That doesn’t mean it’s the same everywhere.

Imagine if, by the end of the war, there’s at least 5 different kinds of Other/Eldritch SOMETHING going on with the troopers because they just keep running into the batshit weird stuff.

What doesn’t kill you changes you and all that.

And the changes spread somehow. Spread like a song, from veteran to shiny, from battalion to battalion. The shinies change to match their brothers, brothers who do not find something to change them find themselves matching their brothers. Like a disease some say, because they’re scared and they don’t know what’s happening and change can be terrifying and it’s up to their brothers to say it’s alright, we’ve got you, metamorphosis isn’t easy but it will pass. The changes spread like a song and when they hit other battalions that have their own song they don’t go further there, because they’ve already got their favorite tune and it’s not about to change, so they compare songs and cheer or tease about each other’s lyrics and melodies, and maybe trade tips, but they don’t trade songs.

No one knows who changes first.

Maybe it’s the Wolfpack, and oh they will never hear the end of the jokes, jokes that must be either run with or hated, because a hurricane brought on land forced them to shelter in an abandoned temple for long enough to be noticed. Those people were shapeshifters once, skin changers and berserkers, and their deities (deities are not representations of the Force but they’re the next best thing, beings made of the Force without being the Force made Flesh, and thus not bound to mortality, though they are not everlasting) remember and miss the days when they had worshipers who took the forms of animals and sang in chorus.

Each member of the Wolfpack can take the shape of a canine. Give it some time, and it seems like every canine in the galaxy is represented somewhere by a clone trooper. There’s bleedover between their two skins now, eyes that are not a human’s but not their creature’s either and thus don’t fit into either face, teeth too sharp and too many for a human and paws with just enough fingers to grasp. These troopers have a taste for raw meat now, for the hunt, and sometimes they laugh and chase their brothers around Coruscant and sometimes they hunt droids and generals, and sometimes they bring down creatures three times their size and feast. They howl and bark and cry together, a sound that shouldn’t harmonize but somehow does, and together they sing.

The 501st and the 212th will never agree who’s fault this was or who gets the credit, depending on who’s talking. It surprises no one that they change together, it would have been more of a shock if they’d each become something separately. They can’t agree on what it was that changed them either. They agree only on the planet. Maybe it was something in the water, which was drinkable but ran golden in every light, maybe it was the ruins, whose stones made their jedi wobble without knowing why, maybe it was the planet itself. The planet that was awake, and watching, and listening. The planet that felt the beat of the troopers’ feet when they danced and tasted the blood they shed and who knows the logic of a planet? 

They’re growing now, these troopers. Growing thorns in place of nails and flowers in place of eyes, and their blood flows thick like sap. There’s green on their lips now, chlorophyll that tolerates the rations but practically purrs in the sunlight, and whenever there’s the slightest chance the troopers strip down as much as they dare and soak in the sunlight, relish in the heat and light on their green-tinted skin and the ferns that curl along their scalps, the petals growing around their wrists and the algea growing between their toes that relishes the cool of water. They love to dance in the sunlight and their footsteps sign their names where they step, leaving new leaves and budding flowers in their wake.

The 327th plays host for one month to a flock of something that isn’t a phoenix or a firebird, but those are the only words they can think to apply. No one knows how they got on the ship. But their general says they’re peaceful and friendly besides, and radiating light in the force like a star (and aren’t they made of fire in the same way, they are not candleflame or forest fire or lava but starfire) and they make the cold of space warm, so the men grow to relax around them and are sad to see them go. They don’t take all of their warmth with them.

Spill their blood and it’s scalding hot, searing rock and metal and burning holes through fabric, raising blisters on the skin of anyone who doesn’t match their boiling heat. They could shower in icy water and fill the room with steam, indeed water sizzles when it lands. One trooper, with too much time and the right material, finds out that yes he can fry an egg on his hand and that’s a funny story but it’s also the least of what they can do, because these men can dance in a forest ablaze and fear neither heat nor smoke, can walk over lava and stare into suns, the suns that their eyes resemble because they’ve turned into stars. These troopers burn and shine and to compare them to distinct lights is much less of a metaphor than it was before.

Coruscant latches her teeth into the Coruscant Guard and there’s nothing they can do about it. That planet is a different kind of war than their brothers are facing but they’ve got casualty lists nonetheless and it takes no less persistence and skill and luck to survive it. There’s darkness in the city, pushing at the light of the Temple, and there’s light in the Guard but it’s the darkness that seeps into their blood, pulsing through them with each beat of their heart and each inhale.

It’s hard to look at the Guard now. They’ve become creatures of blood and shadow, muscle and bone, and death is just a word now because they know their bodies like no one else and they can simply knit themselves back together. The shades in place of their skin cover but do not hide the flesh beneath, the roll of organs, and where their eyes should be are pits or flickering streetlights or something moving that can only be glimpsed. Their minds seep along each other like oil on water, touching without merging, and it doesn’t make them safe it doesn’t fix the problem, but it keeps them from ever being alone, keeps any more of them from dying at the hands of those they protect, and that’s no small thing. The Guard tends not to speak much, but they tap constantly, tap and drum their words and tunes and the constant pulse of their shared heartbeat, their shared blood.

The SCUBA troops are the ones that bring the ocean into play. They catch the notice of an old god-goddess-divinity in a deep ocean, someone that isn’t really awake but instead the divine equivalent of half-asleep and half-dreaming and, much like a human just awake enough to not properly be asleep, makes a vague change to their dream without thinking about it.

These troopers don’t walk so much as flow; somehow they always look like they’re moving through water. Gills carve through their skin and salt water feels like coming home but fresh water is almost as good and aside from their gills only a few of them become like fish, only a few find their fingers webbed or learn they can grow tentacles at will, but all of them can swim through any water like they were made for it, can see through it clear as day, can laugh and dance on a ship in a thunderstorm without fear. And oh their dreams, they find their brothers in their dreams, bring them out of the choppy dark of nightmares and into the soothing calm of sweet dreams, they dream of things that are long gone and things that might be and things that could have been but never were, things that are known and things that cannot be understood.

Slowly, they grow to see the changes in their other brothers, their family, and it’s always a shock but it’s a good kind, oh you’ve changed to tell me how, how do you find it, it’s like unexpectedly meeting an old friend you haven’t seen in years but in minutes you’re sharing everything that’s happened since you met. And these changes, they don’t make the troopers force users but they give them a bit of awareness, enough to see who’s changed, to see the fingerprints of the force in the galaxy.

Some of them return to Coruscant and the Guard’s constant armor is as almost as much to keep them in the “proper” shape as it is to protect them and they above all know how to hide, so it takes sometime to see those fingerprints of change on them but they do and oh you’ve changed too what on earth did you run into to make that happen you’re supposed to be safe from the craziness here and one of the Guards laughs. It sounds like choking and cracking bones and hysteria.

Palpatine dies within a week. The war ends soon after.

When the clones rejoice, there are those who can change their skin and those with flowers for eyes, those burning with plasma and those who bleed uninjured and those who could walk the depths, all side by side and celebrating together as family does. Some of them are singing songs with harmonies that can’t be matched, some are dancing in a way that leaves clover behind them, some are shining in effusive joy, some are drumming out their pulse in accompaniment to the singing, and some are dreaming this for the little brothers awaiting them on Kamino. See your brothers in joy, see what you can become, we’ll be there to get you soon.

#so yeah #the thing with the corries is inspired by Corrie Red on ao3 which I recommend #Eldritch clone troopers #eldritch #Clone Troopers #clone wars #star wars

[ironmandeficiency]

mama wolf

pairing: wolffe / reader

word count: 692

summary: since dating wolffe, you are quickly put in loco parentis with the rest of the pack.

a/n: this is just a soft blurb abt taking care of the wolfpack during leave i wrote ages ago

as wolffe’s almost-riduur, you had taken up the helm as an authority figure to the rest of the pack

the same way wolffe was commander on the field, you were commander when they were on leave

this meant that when the ‘pack was on leave, your house was never empty. members of any and all ranks, even a few shinies, would find themselves crowded into your home

you invested in several chairs and extra food after the first time they corralled into your living room and several had to sit on the floor (lesson learned real quick)

you just got home from work when wolffe commed you saying that he’d be planetside again in a matter of hours (read: me and several of the boys are gonna be hungry for a home cooked meal and will be homeasap)

now wolffe alone had the appetite of a dozen banthas, and you didn’t want him to go without for his brothers (which he already did constantly) if you didn’t cook enough. so foregoing sleep for now, you got comfortable and got started in the kitchen

breakfast for today was pancakes and bacon, which were easy to cook and a quick favorite among the pack. you can’t go wrong with pancakes and bacon, especially not if you put bacon INSIDE the pancakes (thank sinker for that idea)

who had time to count pancakes? not you. you just poured, flipped, and plated for what seemed like minutes (really was hours) until you heard a commotion outside of your front door

wolffe knew the code so there was no need to knock, and just as you predicted, upwards of twelve members of the wolfpack were led by their commander into the house, several immediately commenting on how great it smelled

your riduur approached you first, giving you a soft yet deep kiss and a hug before grabbing a plate heaped high with pancakes and bacon

one by one you were being hugged and given kisses on the cheek by every clone there as a thank you for the food. you hugged them all back, thankful they had taken showers before coming

once everyone had a plate made, you made your own and immediately approached wolffe, who patted his thigh as an invitation to sit that was immediately taken up on. he had one arm securely around your waist and his chin on your shoulder, and a warm smile that had a few of the shinies very shocked

you and the boys made pleasant conversation while you ate, enjoying the company of your wolffe and his brothers, happy they survived the last campaign

wolffe was the first to notice that you were getting sleepy. you lean into him more and your replies grew slurred. soon the others noticed this as well, beginning to talk quieter than they had been

then he did the math. it would’ve taken you hours to have done all of this cooking, and on nights when you worked late you wouldn’t get home till almost the wee hours, which led him to the conclusion that you’ve been awake since the previous morning

he was upset that you put yourself in such a tired state for him and his brothers, but the fact he had a riduur who would do that warmed his heart

your dutiful wolffe sets your plates on the coffee table before standing with you in his arms, carrying you to your bed. he gets you comfortable before going back out to the common room

his brothers could tell wolffe was trying to wear a scowl, but it didn’t quite work. he just couldn’t bring himself to do it when he’s relaxed at home

instead, he just puts his hands on his hips and lowers his voice enough to both let you sleep and convey the severity of what he’s saying

“you can stay, but if you wake her, you’re dead” everyone nods and they each give him a quiet “yes sir”

satisfied that they got the message, he removes what little armor he still had on and takes his rightful place next to you in bed, holding you while you slept

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #star wars the clone wars #star wars reader insert #star wars imagines #swtcw #star wars fanfic #wolfpack #commander wolffe imagine #wolffe #sergeant sinker #lieutenant boost #boost #cc 3636 #sinker

[vodika-vibes]

Okay! Okay, okay. Y'all are gonna hate me but I was jamming to Hamilton this morning when I was supposed to be writing and I had an idea.

Yoda, being Yoda, decides that all Master’s need to take a padawan. All of them. For the Master's own good and to get the kids away from the increasingly hostile population of Coruscant.

This is how Plo Koon and the Wolfpack get a 9 year old Jedi Commander. Not ideal, but it is what it is.

Wolffe is protective over the kid but understands that they need a come to Jesus talk. And so he gives it to them.

And is just this song.

#star wars #tcw #star wars au #Youtube

[fromtheseventhhell]

GRRM has taken great care to show the bond between the Stark’s children and their direwolves. The significance of their names, having them take on the same personality traits (example: Rickon and Shaggydog both being described as angry and wild), foreshadowing, and generally being surrogates for their Starkling. The fact that Arya’s direwolf is a leader, named after a female ruler (a princess that crossed the Narrow Sea, which Arya has already done), and the subject of legends and an infamous figure is foreshadowing for Arya herself.

We've had the direwolves built up as important aspects for the Starks since literally the first chapter of AGOT and yet people still insist there isn't any relevant foreshadowing involved with them. We're just supposed to see it as nothing more than a coincidence. The thing is the foreshadowing doesn't align with fandom ideas, so it has to not mean anything. Arya can't be a leader because she's already been assigned the role of assassin/brawn. Who cares if it doesn't make sense with how she's written? Nymeria's namesake, the fact that they've kept a strong bond despite being separated, Nymeria building up a large wolfpack, and direwolves taking after their owners all mean nothing. If people are feeling spicy they'll use the direwolves as a negative. Jon is gonna come back wrong and not be able to do anything, Rickon is gonna be more animal then man and irrelevant, and Nymeria's namesake means an "Arya the Sailor" endgame. 🙄

It's incredibly frustrating because the buildup for the direwolves hasn't been subtle. Despite what people claim about George, he's pretty on the nose with his foreshadowing. If he truly meant them to mean nothing then he wouldn't have spent so much time building them up. Let's hope TWOW comes out soon and we get the follow-through.

#ask #anon #arya stark #asoiaf #direwolves #grrm #people hate the fantasy aspect of this fantasy series #they also hate characters they don't like getting foreshadowing they want for their faves #it's so frustrating

[tired-reader-writer]

Oh Gurazeh, if only you knew.

I really love how Arslan's confidence grew! Seeing him take immediate command like this is very nice. My son 🥹

Is it just me or is his hair really longer than it was before this arc????

Niiiiice. Farangis looks fantastic, Jaswant's Staring, Gieve has a shit-eating expression that makes me want to Whap him in the head, and what is Daryun doing?

They're sleeping on you, my man *badum-tss*

I'll see myself out.

Not gonna lie, the collar/lapel thing is really throwing me off. It looks like ones you'd find on a modern coat?

He's charming, ngl, I'd want to be his friend.

Now I'm sad because I haven't found a way to get Gurazeh and Gilan involved in Wolfpack! He's so great! Unfortunately Team Gorgan is in the Far North™ and he's in the Far South™ and it doesn't help that even in canon Gilan was pretty isolated from the rest of the narrative :(

Why does his beard remind me of Vahriz.

#arslan senki #the heroic legend of arslan #heroic legend of arslan #gurazeh #arslan #gieve #jaswant #daryun #farangis #arslan senki reread

[hellythebird]

I am banned on DA because of FHD again.. but instead I will not give up on any of this stuff because I now know that I must not fall and lose to this drama and exposure by FHD

because of that I declare war against them for using discord and DA account as fake proof and so much more.. I feel like this could get rid of FHD.. and so beyond

they also using fake proof and guess what I harassed the faker on DA because it was nessn.. and I am not gonna pay because of this.. I know you all angry at me but I think it’s enough for me to be revengeful against all the lies and fake stuff you gathered from discord and DA.. useless wolfpack f*ckers trying to bring me down.. >:(

#artists on tumblr #super mario #welcome home #across the spiderverse #wally darling #the owl house #the mandalorian #ted lasso #taylor swift #succession #FucktheFHD

[kaminocasey]

25 Days of Life Day: Day 15 - Part two to Day 4 with Wolffe

A/N: Here is that promised NSFW part two to Day 4 (Decorating with Wolffe). Hope you enjoy. HERE is the lingerie I pictured 👀👀👀

Summary: You give Wolffe the matching set of holiday underwear and he's more than enthusiastic.

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT; Smut!! Dominant and Submissive-ish Wolffe

“Wait!” You shout, giggling.

“Nope.” He starts pushing you toward the bed, ready to punish you.

“Please?” You give Wolffe wide doe eyes, knowing he can’t resist them.

He stops at the end of the bed, crossing his arms. “This better be good.” “Oh, trust me it is.” You smirk, getting up off the bed and striding over to your bathroom to put on the holiday lingerie you bought. 

You peel your regular sweatpants and t-shirt off and excitedly change into the skimpy red lace that has a white fluffy lining that you couldn’t turn down. As you finish putting it on, you hold the matching red boxers that you bought for Wolffe behind your back and walk back out to your husband. He’s checking his comm, probably making sure that the rest of the Wolfpack haven’t caused any problems. 

“Love?” You murmur.

When Wolffe looks up at you, his lips fall open and he immediately lets the comm go, sending it clattering to the ground. He goes next, dropping to his knees. 

“Fuck me…” He groans. 

“If you ask nicely.” You smirk, walking over toward him. “These are for you. Put them on.”

He quickly complies and stands up, peeling his shirt off, dropping it to the floor, along with his lounge pants. You glance down and see that he’s already starting to become hard for you. It takes everything in you to keep the dominant charade up. 

“Good. Put those on. I’ll be right back. Be on the bed waiting for me.” You tilt his chin slightly and then walk out to the living room to grab something for an idea that you’d been debating on for days.

Grabbing the stringed lights, you walk back to the bedroom, finding Wolffe waiting for you at the head of the bed for you. Perfect. Walking over to his side of the bed, you climb up and he glances down at the lights, clearly confused.

“Are you okay with being tied up?” You ask, softly, tracing his cheekbones down to his perfect jawline.

“With lights?” He quirks an eyebrow up at you.

You nod. “Yep.”

“Sure.” He drawls out, thoughtfully.

You lean down, kissing him and his hands automatically come to your thighs, sliding up until he reaches your bare thighs and then grips, needily at your flesh with a soft, wanting groan.

“Need you.” He murmurs. 

“Oh how quickly you change when I put on a little lace for you.” You tease him. 

“Can’t resist it.” He shrugs, rolling his eyes. 

“I think you just enjoy ripping it off of me.” You smirk.

“That too.” He grins, glancing down at your cleavage in his face. 

Grabbing Wolffe’s wrists, you pull them up to the bar of the headboard and start to loop the string lights around his wrists, making sure to connect them to the headboard so he can’t go anywhere. 

He watches you as you do so, smiling up at you, proudly. Like he’s proud of you for taking control. You had to admit, the feeling of being trusted like this is something you could get used to. Normally, you’re the one who gives over the control to Wolffe and lets him take care of you.

As you continue to string the lights around Wolffe’s arms, you know this is gonna look gorgeous when finished. You might just have to get lights permanently for the bedroom.

Getting down off the bed, you plug the lights into the wall and Wolffe lights up. He looks up at your work and you nearly melt at the sight of the lights shimmering in his eyes and dancing on his skin as they twinkle.

“Aw, my pretty little Wolffe.” You admire him a little longer. Wolffe grows surprisingly flustered under your stare and you climb back on top of him. Tracing your fingers down his chest he lets out a soft whimper. A sound you’d never heard this man make. 

“Want you, cyare…” He murmurs, full of need.

“You’ll have me, my love. Be patient.” You smile. 

“You know I’m no good with patience.” He lets out a breathless chuckle.

“I do know that.” You smirk and start traveling down his body, peppering him with kisses and soft licks until you reach the band of the red boxers that he was so eager to put on for you.

Running your finger along the inside of the band of his boxers, he squirms, lifting his head to watch you. You smirk up at him before releasing his hardened length. When you kiss the tip, he lets out a soft sigh.

Tracing your tongue along the underside of his length, you start to move his boxers down to his midthigh. His cock twitches against your tongue and you start to take him into your mouth.

“Fuck…” Wolffe groans loudly, trying to reach to grab you but getting stopped. “Ugh.”

You can’t help the soft laugh you let out, looking up at him. 

“You’re gonna ride me like this, aren’t you?” He stares down at you.

“You bet I am.” You take his length all the way down until your nose settles against dark curls, making you gag slightly and making Wolffe moan louder than the first time.

You hum and Wolffe stares down at you.

“Real pleased with yourself, aren’t you?” Wolffe complains.

You pull off of him. “You know, you’re complaining a lot for someone who’s getting his dick sucked.” 

He chuckles. “I’m sorry… you know it’s killing me to not be able to touch you.”

“It’s killing you to not be in control.” You correct him, taking his length into your mouth again and he lets out a gasp.

“A thing can be two things.” He pants, thrusting his hips slightly so that you take more of him. 

You roll your eyes as you bob your head up and down on him. 

“Not… gonna last.” He groans. “Feels so… good…” 

“Tell me what you want, Wolffe.” You encourage him.

He looks down at you, giving you the look of ‘you know what I want’. With another smirk, you pull off of him and go to straddle his lap. You still can’t get over just how pretty he looks like this. All needy for you. 

“You look good like this.” You lean down and kiss him. 

He sighs into the kiss and you see his wrists move as if he was going to try to hold you. Reaching behind you, you move your panties to the side and line him up with your already wet warmth and hover over his tip. Wolffe tries to push up into you, desperately, but you move up with him so he’s forced to stay in the same place.

“Please…” He begs, eyes wide, full of want.

Since he asked so nicely… You sink down onto him and he lets out the loudest moan you’ve ever heard him make, absolutely sure your neighbors probably heard it as well.

With Wolffe reacting like this, it's definitely making you want to try this again already. 

As you start to bounce up and down on him slightly, bracing your hands on his chest to support yourself, you can’t help the moans that fall from your lips. He always fills you so perfectly, as if you were made for each other. Like two puzzle pieces. 

“So good.” You whisper.

“So fucking good.” He grins, agreeing with you. 

Quickening your pace, your breasts in his face, he finally slips from the string lights. He yanks his wrists free and immediately grabs you, tossing you over onto your back so he can start thrusting roughly into you. You didn’t even notice him trying to get out of the lights, but you can’t be mad, with the way that he’s treating your pussy.

“Wolffe…” You gasp.

“It’s real fucking cute you thought you had control there.” He taunts you. “Thought you could handle being in control.” 

You groan and grab his curls, yanking his hair back as you lick his neck, making him moan. You fight for dominance, not wanting to go down without a fight.

“I heard your needy whimpers. I was in control.” You tell him, firmly.

“You… think so?” He closes his eyes.

“I know so.” You push him back over onto his back so that you can grind against his hips, rutting against him as your clit rubs along his skin, causing you to moan.

He notices and snakes his hand between the two of you, rubbing perfect circles against your clit, causing you to be thrown closer to your edge. Wolffe spurs you on as he continues rubbing and then grips your ass with his free hand, trying to help you grind against himself. The extra pressure throws you clear over the edge and you cum, moaning for your husband. 

“So fucking perfect.” He praises you.

“No, you.” You smirk.

He gives you a challenging look and pulls out of you. With barely any time to let out a whimper, he pushes you over onto your stomach. He slides the skimpy panties down your ass and then lines his cock up with the crack of your ass, sliding against it. You let out a moan and he slides a hand up your back into your hair, gripping and pulling. 

“Fucking tease me… thinking there wouldn’t be… any consequences.” He groans, continuing to slide his cock against your ass cheeks. 

He pushes his free hand over his cock, creating more friction as he starts thrusting faster. All you can do is moan and let him use you how he wants to. 

“You were right. I love ruining the lingerie you buy. But only because it means I get to buy you more.” He groans as you feel something warm spurt against your back, seeping through the sheer of the lingerie. 

When he stops thrusting, he sits behind you, admiring his work before sliding it off of you. You sit up on your knees, turning around to face him so you can kiss him.

“I really do like this.” He holds up the lingerie before tossing it to the floor.

“Me too. Thank you for not ripping it.” You grin.

“Sure… only because I’m making you wear it on Life Day again.” He kisses you once more before leading you to the shower. 

Now, you have even more reason to look forward to Life Day.

TAGS: @grievouus @brynhildrmimi @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @misogirl828 @rexandechosandwich @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @twistedstitcher27 @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501

#25 days of life day #tcw wolfpack #tcw wolffe #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x reader #tcw wolffe x you #tcw wolffe x reader #the clone wars

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

"Creative" Miniseries

Warnings and Information: Because some of these get suggestive, we're gonna say Minors DNI.

I went down a list of creative hobbies at random, so some of these may not necessarily "fit" our Bad Batch and Wolfpack boys. This is more a creative writing exercise than a serious list of headcanons.

If I miss someone from a certain unit, or you want to see so-and-so with a different creative hobby than the one I went with at random, let me know and I can do another part just for them. It doesn't have to be in the form of a request, but you're welcome to make one (it'll be easier to keep track of that way/guarantee I'll see it)!

The Bad Batch 

Crosshair 

His cyare writes him poetry, short stories, and fake scripts. Wordsmithy about purple mountains crowned in silver snow. His retellings of how he wiped out fifteen battle droids in one shot becomes fit for the silver screen when you present him with the scene. He's thought about carefully etching your poetry about him into the stock of his gun. But he couldn't decide on just one line; how could he pick just one when they were all so good? He's thought about the filthy praise you've written for him on strips of filmsi when he misses you most. He's memorized every word before he discreetly drops the strip into a puddle on the landing pad, or some water cupped in the palm of his hand, to let the evidence dissolve and melt away. He knows you keep your records if you ever wanted to do a reading while you ravish him; just like you promise on paper while maybe being too timid to tell him out loud. No two lines have ever been quite the same. It never fails to make him feel so loved when every word you write is chosen with utmost care. Even the parts about himself he despises he's found himself slowly coming to love. You've been wonderful for his self-image, in many ways. And you constantly surprise him. He's never imagined you could be so crass when you write how much you want to ruin him in bed. Him. Hunter asked if Crosshair had gotten some bad news because he could hear the sniper's heart racing wildly, once. "No… everything's fine." Crosshair insisted in a way that didn't quite convince Hunter, but he thankfully let it go.

Wrecker

His cyare spoils him with home cooking. Absolutely spoils him. Sweets and breads and stews. Meat so mouthwatering and tender it falls off the bone. And the best part is you make enough so he can eat until he's had his fill. He's full for one rare moment in his life. No bland ration bars. No under-seasoned food from the mess. You always make it just how he likes it, and some extras that he takes home with him for his brothers, made how they like it, too. He's not sure he's ever seen a single recipe card. He's pretty sure you have a flawless memory. He offhandedly mentioned it had been a while since he'd had something once, and the next day, you whipped up exactly what he'd been craving. Right down to the spices and the drinks you paired with the meal the first time. So when he jokes that the two of you could really give him a case of deja vu by engaging in a certain "after-activity" once you've had some time to digest, he finds that's exactly what you had in mind. Mornings after he spends the night, he's made breakfast in bed. You might find yourself engaged if you do that enough times! He might not even have a ring or any sort of commemorative accessory ready for the moment, but he's so swept up in feeling so loved by you that he wants to feel like that forever. What better way than to ask to be yours?

Hunter

His cyare has the greenest of green thumbs he's ever seen in this galaxy. You can tell what the soil needs from feeling it between your fingers. You can deduce what ails your plants with startling accuracy before ever consulting the Holonet. Your garden thrives with life in such a small space; unlike anything he's ever seen. Herb and flower and produce. You have an idea for a hydroponic garden that you've been flirting with the idea of; something you can propagate here that you could let him keep on Kamino. A little secret piece of greenery to break up all that sterility of white and silver. He loves to spend time with his hands in the dirt with you, watching you prune and weed with precision. He may not understand how you keep all the seasons of planting and blooming and harvesting straight in your head, but he appreciates your brilliance and your knack for filling your garden with so much growing in tandem. You invited him once to do a little late night planting in the new flower beds, but the two of you ended up fooling around so much that the beautiful seedlings from the nursery remained untouched until sunrise. (It took Hunter three days to get all the dirt from his hair.) Eventually he can tell what section of your garden you spent the most amount of time in by the way you smell at the end of the day. "You've been in the herbs again. Maker, I love it when you smell like this…" You laugh softly, feeling your skin tingle pleasantly wherever his hands begin to roam. "Good. Because tomorrow I plan to fertilize the new patch I made, and we both know you're not a fan of the fertilizer. But I need to get things ready for you to choose your own little things you want to learn to grow."

Tech

His cyare shares an interest in puzzles and programming. Logic puzzles, jigsaw, sudoku, crossword, word searches, mazes, memory and recall, you name it. Anything that tests your reasoning and intelligence. You've slipped so many little ciphers into your messages together, and sent him many tasteful images. He needs to crack three layers of unique encryption to get to it. Were the files in his datapad not so important in order to perform his part in the Grand Army of the Republic, you'd gladly give into the idea of sending him a virus that would do something harmless, or cause a minor nuisance like changing his primary language from Basic to Shyriiwook to Huttese to Dathomiri to Rodian all at random. "It would be fascinating, not knowing what language you're going to get the next time you pick up your datapad," you tell him, trying to explain why you hesitate to entertain this fantasy, "but what if you needed to show something to Commander Cody and he doesn't speak Kel Dor?" You have a point, he concedes, but he files this odd fantasy away for another time. Maybe when the war is over. Letting his exceptional mind go to waste would be an utter shame. Letting an opportunity to be involved with you in this mutual hobby going to waste would be criminal.

Wolfpack

Commander Wolffe

His cyare's poor hands are full of splinters all hours of the day. "I wish you'd wear gloves, or something…" he grumbles worriedly as he assists you in working a particularly nasty splinter free. It's in there deep… and he's this close to taking you to one of the medics on board to make sure it's out before infection sets in. "But it's just not the same without the feel of the wood in my hands if I wore gloves." you tell him. You don't mean it to be dismissive of his feelings. You know he's only thinking of your best interests and your safety in mind. He always is. The idea of woodworking, something that could be very demanding on your hands, something that could too-easily go wrong if you didn't mind the blade of your whittling knife didn't scare Wolffe, but it didn't comfort him either. "I see enough hurt to last a lifetime when I accompany General Plo Koon on relief efforts. The thought of you… Please promise me you'll be careful." You nod softly. Promising that you're doing your best. You're always doing your best. "I'll be careful. I have to be if I want this to look good." He's never asked his cyare what they make. Not because he doesn't care, but because he's so preoccupied that he doesn't get to see anything while it's still being worked on; he's only seen the finished results. All of them are so beautiful. But for once, since he knows this one is still in progress, he wants to know what you've spent the better part of the month working on. What you're so determined not to screw up. "It's you. And your men. As a whole pack of loth-wolves." you tell him. "I just finished Comet today. Would you like to see?" 

Comet

Mapmaking for fun was his cyare's hobby. Maps and diagrams of anything, really. Phony star charts filled with made-up constellations that were named after him and his brothers and the General. What an underground wolf den would look like if it was large enough to host the entire Wolfpack. You even made maps of some of his dreams. Sprawling cities where people could have enough space to dance in the street. You tried making a diagram of the time Comet had assisted General Windu from the precarious wreckage of a Venator-class ship that had been reportedly sabotaged, but it was ultimately abandoned. Something about that incident was spoken of so quietly by the Clones. "General Plo says the one responsible was just a kid…?" The diagram was trashed and instead you worked on something related to the Aleena people. 

Boost

His cyare promises him when they first get together that the gifts of soap are not a jab at his hygiene, or rather, lack of it since he only bathes with regularity when he's on leave. "I-I just make so much soap… And I'm always trying new things. Fragrances, I mean! If you don't like any of them, you can give them to your brothers or throw them away and I swear I won't be mad." you tell him when you give him a mesh sachet of travel-sized soap bars when he asks what you've been up to since your last date together, in the beginning of your relationship. You had picked up soap making as a hobby in the three months you've been apart. His brothers certainly think they all smell nice, and they feel cleaner when they can smell something they haven't gone nose-blind to after nothing but regulation cleaners and soaps for years on Kamino. "Hey, Boost! Tell your sweetheart I really liked the thing they called lavender! I love the way that stuff smells. Do you think you could get some more of it for me?" He feels a little bad that when he goes to visit, he comes with what's for all intents and purposes a list of soap orders. "They're offering to pay if it means they don't have to use the communal body wash dispensers." 

Sinker

Leatherwork became his cyare's hobby of choice after Sinker had an opportunity to finally take care of a few things he hadn't had the time for in a while. Cleaning out his footlocker, being at the top of his list. You'd offered to help, curious to see what you'd find, partly, but mostly just glad to spend a little time with him. "Huh. Don't remember this… Why'd I keep a roll of plain leather? Oh: you know what, this must have been from that one planet back in the-" he stops himself, laughing. "Eh, the sector's not important. It was a thank you gift from the locals of the planet after we delivered relief supplies to them once we took care of a Separatist blockade. The General said it would have been impolite to refuse. I don't really have a use for it, or the time to make anything with it… But if you like it," he tells you, seeing the way you smooth your hands over the rich leather again and again, "I'm sure you'll find a better use than just sitting in my footlocker for it." He never thought you would have taken the suggestion to heart, but he's glad to see you've found something you enjoy and can pass the time with. When you present him with a small leather bag embossed with the image of the Wolfpack, he asks if you wouldn't mind making the same for his brothers out of their rolls. You'd be happy to.

[Masterlist] [501st Edition] [212th Edition]

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