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actual-changeling · 1 year

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I know that Ellie eventually going to school is a pretty much universally accepted part of the world building, but I am itching to explore her trying to do so and simply being unable to do it.

The child abuse she went through at the hands of FEDRA was probably prolific and cruel, and her life was basically nothing but different kinds of "education" strung together, whether that's whatever they cobbled together for general education or the military training. Joel might know it was bad (cause it's fucking FEDRA), but the extend of her trauma is hard to gauge when you are not in a situation that triggers it.

Her academic trauma does not disappear outside of school, but unless Ellie is in a similar situation it simply won't be immediately obvious (speaking from experience). On top of that, David being a teacher does not help whatsoever.

Joel and Ellie agree on a first day of school, but they want to check out the building beforehand, just so they're both a bit more at peace. Ellie is somewhat excited but also scared, and the closer they get to the building, the quieter she becomes, just hanging onto Joel's hand and squeezing it until her knuckles turn white. He pulls her close, notices she is nervous, but he doesn't press and gets them inside. One of the handful of teachers, a woman about Joel's age (they're aware enough to not have it be a man, Silver Lake is a known topic), meets them at the door and shows them around.

Small classrooms with surprisingly comfortable looking wooden chairs (Ellie sees the pillows on them and her mind short-circuits), some old sofas and couches, armchairs, spacious desks and all kinds of posters and materials. There's an art room and it is the only time Ellie's grip on Joel loosens a tiny bit, the array of brushes, paints, and instruments fascinates her, but that moment passes as quickly as it came.

With every step they take, the teacher's voice blurs with Joel's and turns into white noise, her vision grows fuzzy and grey, and she has to keep blinking with fluttering lashes to not sway on her feet when the dissociation gets worse. Absently, her mind keeps cataloguing the floor plan, windows, doors, all exists she can make our and imagine, but by the end of the tour, she cannot remember anything past leaving their house this morning. Something tugs on her hand, and she blinks up at Joel, his gaze loaded with a question she didn't hear, and maybe ten weeks ago she would have pretended she had; she doesn't know.

Ellie doesn't even know why she is reacting like this, there are no specific memories popping up, nothing to fight back, just her mind and body slipping into a protective armor of static like they're pulling her into the fizzling TV in their living room.

"Ellie?"

The teacher's voice snaps her back to a pounding heart and a breath stuck in her lungs, and when she looks down at their clasped hands her nails have left marks in Joel's skin. She lets go at once, holding onto her wrists with her arms behind her back, and she still didn't hear the question. Every cell in her body is telling her to leave, pulling her toward the nearest exit, but she doesn't. There are memories flickering across her vision now, a decade of unjust, painful punishments and her body being pushed to its breaking point, and she decides the answer to that question is more important than whatever they had asked her.

"What do you do? For, like, punishment?"

Her voice is steadier than she is on her feet, so she rocks gently back and force to stop herself from swaying. Joel's gaze burns hot on her cheeks, but she keeps her eyes on the teacher, whose eyebrows are raised so high they disappear beneath her fringe.

"Punishment? We don't- there's not reason to punish forgotten homework or the like here, Ellie, it's supposed to be both fun and educational."

Something about the tone in her voice unsettles her, but the answer isn't satisfying, and she needs to know, needs to know the rules so she can follow them, because the art room looks like it might actually be fun to be in and she is so tired of dark lonely spaces and marks on her back; imagining the disappointed look on Joel's face when her teachers tell him about it is the worst of it all, though.

"What are the rules? When are the drills and what's the consequences for breaking the rules? Is there-" is there a hole, she wants to ask, but her breathing is fast and shallow, periphery dotted with dancing black spots, and she doesn't want to give them any ideas they didn't already have. Joel's hand lands on her back, right between her shoulder blades, and the warm weight his comforting without being oppressive, her breaths slowing just a smidge.

The woman with a name Ellie forgot is taller than Joel with the shoes she is wearing, and she she squats down, the look on her foreign face looks like a a finished puzzle, the final piece having snapped into place. Her features are rounded, soft, a stark contrast to the borderline malnourished and hardened look of pretty much every person around the QZ including her teachers, a few light-brown and grey strands escaping from her ponytail, and Ellie can't help but think that she looks - nice, non-threatening. School isn't supposed to be non-threatening, but this whole building is dripping with it, and it scares her to death; getting this ripped away from her as punishment will hurt even more than escaping packed, concrete classrooms.

"You grew up in a FEDRA school, right?" she asks, voice almost tender, and Ellie can only stare and nod while Joel rubs circles into her back.

"I heard stories about what it was like before I came here, horrible experiences no one should have to go through, especially not a child."

She sounds so much like Joel the comfort laced into her words manages to penetrate the static and soothe some of the panic, her eyes a bright hazel shade, not blue, and she keeps her distance even though she could easily get into Ellie's personal space

"Even before the outbreak, school wasn't like that, and it is definitely not like that here. There is no punishments, Ellie, no real rules or structure outside of general lesson plans, no consequences for not turning in work or being late. This is meant to provide some stability and education, give you a places to hang out with people your age, have some more people to connect with. If you don't want to be here, no one will force you."

Ellie doesn't cry. She doesn't. A deep breath and some determined blinking pull back the tears from her waterline and her chest aches with a vengeance when she thinks about how different it would have been here for her and Riley, how much better. Riley would still be alive. For a few minutes, they're all silent, allowing her to gather the scattered pieces of herself and glue them back together, and when she does, a tiny bit of the fear in her bones has made space for tentative excitement.

"I like the art room," she says quietly, feeling younger than she ever has, and a wave of something washes over all of them. "Do I- can I-"

"You can use it whenever you like, even outside of school hours, as long as you don't leave too much of a mess and use it responsibly."

Liliya, her brain finally provides, straightens her back again, and the lack of a last name during her introduction is probably part of what through her off. Ellie looks up at Joel, a muscle in his jaw ticking with suppressed anger, not at her, at FEDRA, she knows him well enough to realize that, and decides her question about The Hole is both best saved for another time and hopefully not relevant at all.

"Okay," Ellie responds, pressing herself back against Joel and melting when his arm protectively wraps around her shoulders, "I'll give it a try."

Over the relief rushing through her hairs, she barely hears the details the adults next to her discuss, happy to bury her face in Joel's shirt without shame, and she manages to shake off the last wisps of static clinging to her. Maybe this will work out for her, maybe it won't, maybe all she will use are the art supplies, but when they are lead back to the entrance, more than ready to go home, Liliya gives her a smile, eyes crinkling. For the first time in her life, Ellie smiles back at a teacher simply because she wants to, and the hopeful excitement sprouting in her chest is enough to tell her that she will be right on time for her first class on Monday.

#alex writes tlou #the last of us #tlou #joel and ellie #ellie williams #joel miller #ficlet #fedra school #some riley pain for Z <33 #joel is a good fucking dad and that teachers is a good person #and ellie has mommy issues and can and will get attached but more about that later #ellie has academic trauma in so many ways this is literally not even scratching the surface but it scratched my itch for now #wanna guess how long my little reblog is or what was meant to be little anyway #wanna take a big fucking guess?#if you guessed 1.3k aka a WHOLE ASS FIC you are correct #i cant- i cant even anymore #anyway #back to doing literally anything else

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kalevalakryze · 7 months

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Saia

"Why do you paint your armor?" Shin questioned one day, knee propped up against the ledge of the table, artificial light catching the dull silver across their shins.

Sabine glanced up from her pauldron, lifting the brush up just in time to avoid dripping orange all over the drying blue, instead sending a thick blob of paint to drip onto the unprotected table, seeping between once pristine white cracks.

"Mandalorians don't wear their hearts on their sleeve, and many of us choose to cover our faces, so we paint ourselves on our ancestral armor to show the kind of people we are."

"Explain," Their legs lowered from the table, shoulders slouching as they leaned forward, brows furrowing cutely as they focused their entire attention on the artist.

"Well, okay, so our colors aren't random. Each one has some meaning as a whole, one that will be noticed by all Mandalorians, regardless of their standing with a particular group. Grey, that's the color of mourning; You'll be hard pressed to meet any of my people without it, anymore..." The smile slipped from her lips as she brushed her fingers across the plate on her chest.

"Orange is a lust for life, purple is for luck, red..." Her fingers brushed against the dark paint, grimacing at the thought of the paint she though she would never have to spread across her beskar. "Red is the loss a parent; honoring them."

"Blue is the color of reliability, teal is for those that are healing, white is cin vhetin; starting again, gold is the color of vengance, so on and so forth." Picking up a dry brush, Sabine worked away at smoothing and bleeding certain pieces together against the still wet paint on her pauldron.

"It helps us essentially judge the book by it's cover, I guess; A Mandalorian has to be able to really know who they are when they paint their armor, because that determines, or at least, used to, determine if someone was friend or foe."

"Are Mandalorians the only ones who can paint armor?"

"What? No, we don't have exclusive rights to the rainbow," Sabine shook her head. "We had to share with the Zhell," Nose crinkling at her own joke, Sabine lifted her head away from her piece. "Why, you thinking about getting out of the shiny phase?"

Cheeks flushing, Shin's shoulders shrugged as their arms moved to rest on the table, hand reaching across their chest to pull on the neat beaded braid.

"It'd be alright if you were, you know; I always figured you'd look good in blue,"

They snorted, leveling Sabine with a crinkled stare. "You said blue was for Reliability, even after everything, you still believe blue is right?"

"I've never been wrong about what color I used... sometimes the picture around it changes, it's not that the color was bad, or didn't fit the piece, it just needed time to see for itself that it belonged."

Eyebrows furrowing in speculation, their head shook. "Explain it to me like I have never seen color a day in my life,"

"You know, I heard canines may have yellow and blue on the spectrum for their vision," A dorky smile cracked Sabine's face and she had to duck to avoid a flying wet paintbrush that was flung her way.

"The point is, Kurs'kaded, you figured it out... I can't lie and say I didn't doubt it, that I was sure you would stay true to it in the end, because really, i was certain you would have let him kill us..."

Shin's expression dropped at the reminder of Peridea, the reminder of why they were aboard the Jedi's T-6, and not with their Master.

"But you did it, you kept your word... you're just,,, blue."

Shin's lips twisted in a mix of thought and doubt.

"But here, just... Gimme one piece, and I'll think on it for a few days; I'll put on it what I really think of you,"

With reluctance, Shin slid the vambrace from their right wrist, placing it on the table with a heavy thunk. "And here, so you aren't running around without armor," The artist removed her own gauntlet, motioning for them to extend their wrist.

The grey and gold beskar fell shorter than the steel alloy vambrace, stopping at only halfway up her arm instead of closer to her elbow. Shifting uncomfortably, they nodded in false understanding, got up, and promplty exited the room without another word. "Gotta stop giving women emotional talks; they keep walking out on me," The Mandalorian grumbled to herself, picking their pauldron off of the table and turning it in her hands.

▬▬ι═══════>

"Hey, Shin, wait up!" Sabine ducked out of the ghost and into the bustling hangar, grateful to catch Shin and Ahsoka on their way out of the T-6. "I finished your armor!" The adrenaline from the dogfight still rushing through her veins.

Shin blinked once at Sabine, raising their left arm to check the beskar gauntlet on their wrist, seemingly for the first time. "It took you a while,"

"Told you I had to think about it more, now come on," Sabine grabbed a hold of the Apprentice's arm, just above her gauntlet, guiding Shin back through the hangar to the ghost. Hera met their eyes and offered a knowing smile and shake of her head.

"Please don't put anymore paint on my floors!" The General called to their retreating forms, rolling her eyes at the promises from the Mandalorian bouncing back to her. "Kids,"

"Hey, she takes after you more than you'd think," Ahsoka defended with a snarky smile spreading on her face.

"Ta-da!" Sabine guided Shin inside her old room, still thick with the lingering smell of dried paint, hair dye, and the many different perfumes and colognes she'd sprayed over the years. The rebel picked up a decorated piece from the bunk, though it seemed unrecognizable to the blonde now.

The entire piece was painted a dark grey, gold outlining every scratch and dent, with dark blue paint swirling from every notch, interconnecting into a personal galaxy. White and red speckled the purples and blues in their background of mourning, creating a constellation of 'stars' that formed the image of a large wolf in the red, and a smaller wolf in the white.

"It took me a while to figure it out, but I wouldn't take back a single drop," Reaching back again, Sabine pulled the late retrieved hand plate from her pillow. Teal, blue, green, and white clashed together in the form of a crashing wave, a circle of unpainted middle sitting nestled in the darkest of blue, a Moon to always take with them.

They were sad to give up Sabine's gauntlet after weeks of learning how to use beskar to their advantage, and at first, the colors had been an overwhelming distraction. Eventually though, Shin began to embrace the colors they showed to the world, and Sabine was more than glad to help Shin see past what they may have thought of themselves before, and maybe it was a little bit to keep the light from being reflected into her eye when the sun caught her in the middle of staring at them.

#ask prompt #kind of #did you want me to write this?#idc #i did it anyways #sabine wren #shin hati #wolfwren #sabine x shin #shin x sabine #armor #paint

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blackkatmagic · 10 months

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Fox/Padme, recovering from grief.

The first time she wakes up and doesn’t immediately want the world to go back to sleep with her, Fox is on the other side of the tiny room, bouncing Leia on his knee, with Luke asleep against his shoulder.

It feels, a little, like the world is still. Like everything is spinning but they're at the eye of the storm, and Padmé lies in the hard, uncomfortable bed, every limb aching with the sort of exhaustion that’s beyond bone-deep, watching Fox smile at their children, and—

Oh, she thinks, and then, I've been sad.

It’s a revelation, even if it should be too simple for one. Putting a name to the grey haze of survival in this strange new world isn't precisely important, but—naming it helps, a little. Strangely so, maybe.

Leia burbles, bright, amused, and Fox leans in, smiling at her. He bumps their noses together, making Leia giggle, and she fists tiny hands in his greying hair, beams up at him. Fox looks back, like she’s the moon in an empty sky, like she’s everything, and Padmé breathes out, then slowly, carefully pushes up to sit.

Fox has been here the whole time. He’d found her on Mustafar, gotten her to medical help, gone into hiding with her. If not for him—

“Padmé,” he says, catching the movement, and immediately pushes up, crosses the room in a few long steps. When he sinks down on the bed beside her, Padmé gives him a smile, curls in tight against his side as he wraps an arm around her, and chuckles when Leia grabs for her hair, too.

“Look at the grip you have,” she tells her daughter, admiring. “So strong. Just like your father.”

She slides a hand into Fox’s, silent reassurance that she means him and no one else, and he breathes out, presses his cheek to her hair. His stubble catches, pulls, but it’s a good sort of prickle, makes her smile.

Fox and Luke and Leia are the only things that make her smile, these days, but—maybe that’s enough.

“Are you all right?” she asks quietly, taking Luke when Fox shifts him over. Luke stirs slightly, resettles, but doesn’t wake, and she kisses his fair hair, curls her legs up under herself to sink more fully against Fox’s side.

Fox is silent for a moment, then sighs, quiet. “Thire was leading the last patrol I saw,” he says. “He didn’t see me, but—he’d taken the paint off his armor.”

All of the clones have. Fox hadn’t heard the order that went out, because he lost his hearing early on in the war, had his hearing aids damaged in the attack. By the time he’d realized what happened, could work out what had been done to all the other clones, it was too late for him to do anything but follow Padmé and Obi-Wan to Mustafar.

“I'm sorry,” Padmé says, soft, and threads their fingers together, squeezing gently.

Fox is silent for a long moment. “I'm not,” he says finally. “Not sorry to have survived. Vader's always hated me. I wouldn’t have made it long, if I heard the order. This is…” He swallows, looking down at Padmé, at their children. Breathes in, and then says, “Not bad. Good, most days.”

Padmé smiles. In a few hours, they're going to have to get up, keep moving; even this far down, Coruscant isn't safe for them to stay in one place long. But—

She’s still sad. It still hurts, the thought of getting up and leaving, carrying on. But it hurts less than it did, maybe, and she has a word to put to the feeling now.

And when she does, Fox will go with her. That’s something.

Right now, sitting here with his heartbeat beneath her ear, it almost feels like everything.

#kat answers #kat drabbles #foxidala #commander fox #padme amidala #star wars

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blackat-t7t · 18 days

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Another jangobi idea I don't think I've talked about anywhere:

Soulmates AU

Inspired a bit by this fic and this other one

(For some reason, this fic, or at least the first part, really wants to be written from Jaster's perspective, instead of Jango or Obi-Wan's 😆)

Fun ("fun") fact- according to wookieepedia, both the battle of Galidraan and Obi-Wan's time on Bandomeer take place in 44 BBY. (I love playing with this fact.)

So, Obi-Wan and Qui-Gon are on their way back to Coruscant after Bandomeer, when the jedi council sends out a request for any masters or knights who are in the area and aren't otherwise engaged to join Dooku on his way to Galidraan as backup.

Obi-Wan is supposed to stay on the ship, but he feels the Force urging him to go out, and he's curious. When he sees the mandalorians and jedi squaring off, he recognizes his soulmark painted on Jango's armor, and he can't believe his soulmate would have done the things the governor has accused them of. He thows himself in between Dooku and Jango and begs them not to fight. Although they argue over Obi-Wan's head, the truth eventually comes out that the Jedi were told the True Mandalorians were killing innocents and came to stop them, and the True Mandalorians were set up by the governor and Death Watch. Some of them are sent out to secure the governor and any Death Watch still on the planet, and the mandalorians and jedi agree to a ceasefire while they sort things out. Jango (head of True Mandalorians' supercommandos) calls in Jaster (the Mand'alor) to handle the politics and negotiations.

Later, Obi-Wan sneaks into the mandalorian camp hoping to spot Jango again, and ends up hiding from a passing mandalorian in Jaster's command tent. When Jaster asks what he's doing, Obi-Wan swears he's not a spy, he was just curious. They end up discussing mandalorian iconography, the mythosaur skull and the variant that is the True Mandalorians' sigil, the shreik hawk that the Death Watch wear, jaig eyes, the journeyman protector symbol, etc. Jaster, of course, is happy to educate him. When Jango stops by, Obi-Wan asks about the lightsaber in the symbol on his armor, and Jango is kind of dismissive, says it's not a lightsaber, but the Darksaber. Jaster explains the history.

Eventually, Qui-Gon comes to bring Obi-Wan back to the Jedi ship because they're leaving. He didn't recognize the symbol on Jango's armor at first, but now he's remembered Obi-Wan's soulmark and put two and two together. He doesn't want anyone to realize Obi-Wan is Jango's soulmate, partially because of the political implications and the age difference- but mostly because, after Xanatos, he's convinced that any close relationships, including soulmates, can lead a jedi to fall, and he doesn't want Obi-Wan and Jango to become close.

Before he leaves, Obi-Wan asks Jaster to tell Jango he's sorry they couldn't get to know each other better. Jaster is confused at first, but he quickly realizes what Obi-Wan was saying, and why Obi-Wan was asking about the mythosaur and the light/darksaber symbols, which are both part of the soulmark. When Jango comes to see him, he asks if Jango has checked his soulmark. Jango does, and it's colored in now instead of in greys. The lightsaber has the unique shape of the darksaber, but it's blue, which surprises him. He says he didn't feel a pull to any of the Jedi he met, and asks why Jaster thought the color might have changed. Jaster reminds him of Obi-Wan, intervening to protect Jango and asking about the symbols in the soulmark. By this point, Obi-Wan and the jedi have already left, and Jango can't go after them because he has responsibilities in mandalorian space.

Of course, this is only the begining of the story. There's more, when Obi-Wan seeks mandalorian help while on Melida/Daan, and when he's on Mandalore to protect Satine. But that's the basic premise of the fic.

#jangobi #kenfetti #fic ideas #soulmates #soulmarks #star wars #a blackat-t7t original #blackat-t7t's fic ideas

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katek3nobi · 1 month

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𝒟𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓎 𝐵𝑒𝑒𝓇

SUMMARY: Wolffe’s raging possessiveness over you finally comes to fruition after months of pining

(Wolffe xFemReader)

content (💋☘️)

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Working at 79s was a blessing and a curse. There had been many times where you’d had to call the police droids to break up bar fights, dragging out drunk shinies who got off their face after one drink and the occasional Weequay creep who wouldn’t know how to take no as an answer.

Tonight though, tonight was quiet, well as quiet as 79s could get. the bass boosted music still rumms your ear drums, the pining migraine forming at the back of your head still present as ever, but the clones tonight were tame. Grateful is an understatement. The abrupt slam of the door opening rips you from your thoughts, looking up from the bar counter you see a cluster of what looked to be a bunch of shinies, smug looks painted across their faces and by that look, this was their first time visiting the famous bar. Before you divert your attention back to the task at hand, something catches your way…well someone. His grey armor standing out against the plastoid white, strategic patterns painted across his shoulder pauldrons along with his grey kama hanging off his body. Wolffe. Stolen glances and touches becoming a secret language to you both. The Commander of the 104th had a hold over you and little did you know the feeling went both ways.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you frantically try to act unbothered by his presence, your shaky hands making that difficult as you pour the rank beer into the tall glass.

“first day on the job?”

As your head snaps up your eyes are met with a clone, not one that you’ve seen before either, a shinie. Your thoughts catch up to you as you plast a fake smile across your lips. “no fondly enough” you say through a breathless chuckle. You finish pouring off the glass and slide it across the bar in his direction but before you could pull your hand back, his clasps over yours, preventing you from drawing away. “y’know…you would think that being in a club full of men like me would have you nervous, cyare” oh great. You huff out a chuckle, deciding whether or not to play into his ego, the migraine in the back of your skull having you decide to take the latter. You try to pull your hand back but his clasp only grows stronger. “what? Are you proving me right, beautiful?” he smirks, his hand slowly tracing up the back of your hand to your arm. Heart racing and breath hitching your words start to fail you, his touch making your skin crawl.

And Wolffe saw it all, he saw through your polite but fake mannerisms, he could read you like a book. But through all that, he saw how that rookie was touching you, how his hands wormed up your arm, tainting your skin, infecting your space. He hated it. He bit the inside of his cheek as his heart pumped through his chest, jealousy making his blood hot. Before he knew it, his legs had carried him over to the barstool where the shinie was sitting, back facing him.

“trooper” the shinie whips around, pulling his hand off yours, body stiffening as he looks up at the Commander towering over him, his cybernetic eye pairing the same scowl as his pierce hazel one. “C-Commander” the shinie stuttered, his confident facade now failing him and being replaced with one of fear.

“don’t you have somewhere to be… rookie” The Commander implied, his tone laced with bitterness. The cluster of rouge shinies grouped around a booth near the back of the bar erupts in a loud roar as one seemingly chugs a beer as the others cheered him on. The shinie gulps nervously as he stands to his feet “Sorry Commander, didn’t realise the miss was yours” he stumbles “head out shinie” the Commander spits. The trooper scrambles his way off the barstool, tripping over his feet in the process. Once he’s out of ear shot the Commander turns his attention back to you. Your gaze drifts from the wandering shinie back to Wolffe, his gaze unwavering. Inhaling sharply you try to mask your nervousness, hide the fact that your heart practically goes into overdrive whenever he’s near you let alone looking at you. “thanks” you manage to breathe out, those being the only words that seem to escape your mouth.

“don’t mention it” he grazed, taking the now empty seat, leaning his forearms against the bar. Your gaze stills for a moment too long before reaching to grab the glass you offered the shinie moments before.Not until Wolffe reaches for it at the same time causing your hands to overlap and touch, a spike of adrenaline stuns your spine and squeezes your lungs. Eyes meeting and bodies stiffening, his gaze is once again unwavering. Attempting to at least still the tension you pull your hand back while nervously stuttering “oh you can have it- i mean i can make you something better but if you prefer that then that’s fi-” but before you can finish his hand pulls yours back towards him, rubbing his thumb along your skin. Looking down at his hand clasping yours back up to him you see an unfamiliar expression plastered across his face. “i didn’t like the way that rookie was touching you” Words clog your dry throat as your heart threatens to burst out of your chest. Any coherent thought or sentence seems to vanish, hell your brain itself has short circuited leaving you speechless. you swallow nervously trying to soothe your dry throat before you stutter out “i- uh…it’s fine- i’m fine, happens all the time” you shrug off, your hand still clasped under his. Your words didn’t seem to soothe his mind though, his eyes practically searing scorch marks on ur skin.

He grunts in response, his hold on your hand tightening slightly before letting go reluctantly, your skin starting to crave his absent touch. “and what makes you think i’m fine with it” he retorts. Your breathing becomes shallow as your heart pumps faster and faster, your mouth agape as you try to form a coherent sentence. “c’mere” Wolffe says as he stands up from the barstool, flicking his hand initiating for you to come with him, you place the dirty rag on the edge of the sink that you’ve been mindlessly fidgeting with “Wolffe i can’t, i’ve still got to finish my shift” Now fully stood across the bar counter his gaze once again scorches your skin “i don’t care” his voice stern and fixed.

You take a breath as you match his fixed stare before walking to the edge of the bar, Wolffe following you until you reach the double swinging doors “seriously Wolffe, this better be quick i can’t-” but he grabs your forearm interrupting you, leading you to the back of the bar near the kitchen.

He turns around and grabs you by the shoulders pulling you aside into the back corner, his frame towering over you. “Wolffe?” you breathe out, his chest practically pressed against yours as you look up at him. “Do you know how much I hate seeing those shinies crawling all over you” he breathes out, his face finally sharing a glimpse of genuine emotion, something that isn’t masked, something raw “they practically praise the ground you walk on cyar’ika” the unfamiliar name rolling off his tongue effortlessly, practically turning your knees to jelly “I don't like people touching what is so obviously mine” he growls, the butterflies in your stomach virtually going haywire. “cyare…” he pauses as he leans in, his gaze drifting to your lips before wandering back up to your eyes. “i hate it”

and amongst the jealousy and raging possessiveness, a glimpse of hurt flashes across his face. He reaches his hand up to graze the end of your jaw with his thumb, his touch setting your spine alight. It was the way his voice graveled, how his hand was slowly moving from your jaw to the nape of your neck while his other hand snaked along your waist, subtly pulling the hem of your shirt upwards to trace his fingers along your skin but most of all it was how he was looking at you. His gaze constantly shifting between your eyes and your lips, his expression a mix of raw vulnerability and pure jealousy. “I practically put myself through hell when i come here, seeing how those rookies look at you…they fucking undress you with their eyes” his voice laced with vexation but not towards you, it was towards those ammature shinies that think they could practically coy with you, and that made him mad.

And before you know it Wolffe’s lips are pressed up against your skin as he starts leaving a trail of harsh kisses along the nape your neck. Your breath hitches as you feel his teeth sink into your flesh, the sting being short lived as he soothes the mark with his tongue. You rest your hands on his chest as he continues “fuck cyare” he murmurs in between kisses, both of his hands now gripping your waist, his thumbs caressing your abdomen harshly. “You have no idea” he says before marking your skin again, lazily trailing up to your jaw “what you do to me sweetheart” he murmurs near your ear before pulling back, his voice low and vexing. All words and thoughts have seemingly vanished, your brain a pile of mush as you gaze at the man towering over you. Your faces inches apart, the feeling of his breath hitting your skin only provokes how hot your muscles feel, like feeding oxygen to fire. Wolffe’s lips curl into a soft smirk as he sees how much of an effect he has over you, which unsurprisingly spurs him on even further. His gaze shifts between your lips and back up to your eyes. You wanted him to kiss you, needed him to, your body writhing under his hands, your lungs desperately trying to catch a full breath. Wolffe’s hand reaches up to cup your jaw, his thumb caressing your under eye “let me?” he asks, his brows upturned in need, eyes saying everything that his mouth can’t seem too, want, longing. Rotations of built up pining and craving over you plastered across his face, it infected the blood that ran through his veins and controlled his limbs. Everything he did, everything he said was because of his need for you.

You gaze up at him as you swallow nervously “please” you plead breathlessly, that being all the confirmation he needed as his lips caught yours.

You felt everything and nothing all at once, you felt how his gloved hand held your jaw tilting your head to meet his, how his other hand gripped tightly at the flesh of your hip, how his chapped lips molded against yours. But against all that, your brain buzzed and your body relaxed into his, you felt like you were on cloud 9. The kiss was how you would expect a kiss from Wolffe to be, harsh, chapped, filled with hunger and need but somehow gentle too. He was taking full control just like you imagined the gruff Commander would.

Wolffe too had never felt his mind be so quiet yet loud, no war zone could ever make his body be this full of pure adrenaline, his spine burning with need. Pulling back reluctantly to catch his breath he gazed down at you, your kiss swollen lips and glazed eyes making you that much more beautiful to him.

“You have no idea how long I've needed that” he says breathlessly, his chest heaving as he rests his forehead against yours. Your lips curl into a coy smile before you move the palms of your hands up from his armored chest to the back of his neck, your fingers running through the nape of his hairline “i think i can take a guess” you retort with a brazen smile “oh yeah?” he smirks, his face softly admiring every feature that paints your face. “mmhmm” you hum in response “a long time”. Wolffe chuckles in amusement at the obvious statement “yeah you could say that” he says as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear. You gaze up at him for a moment before tracing your left hand to his jaw, gently rubbing at the scar that paints his under eyes, a reminder that this might not last forever, but knowing Wolffe, not even the darkest sith lord could keep him away from you “don’t die on me anytime soon” your tone laced with sarcasm, but underlying it all you both know that’s a possibility, something neither of you want to admit. He hums in response before saying “even if i were dead cyare i wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you”

#commander wolffe #the clone wars #tcw wolffe #tbb wolffe #wolffe x reader #star wars #clone wars #wolf pack #tumblr fyp #fanfic

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jedi-hawkins · 8 days

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The Bad Batch Episode 13 Watch Thoughts

Spoilers (duh)

Dafuq mustache

I cry she’s back in the prison greys

She’s so big compared to the kiddos

She’s not acknowledging the straw Lula? Ope nevermind she is

The way Eva mimicked O-mee-ga even though she doesn’t have an accent 🥹

Baryn!!!!!

Rampart being pissy lol

Ugh Hunter’s voice is so hot

Hondo? ECHO!!

Get him Crosshair

YES 😂😭 that had to be the line the trolls creators were talking about with delivery

Bruh Rampart being a whiny lil bitch “This is a captain’s uniform” 😭 I can’t

“I’d like to believe you” oh damn got her

Oh she’s good

Loving Omega with her prison shank hidden in her sleeve

‘Specimens’ BITCH WHO TF ARE YOU

I just noticed how similar Emerie’s glasses are to the visor on Tech’s helmet

Fuck I love Omega so much. SHE IS HUNTER’S DAUGHTER

Their paint is gone 🥺

They’re so over Rampart PLEASE 😂😭

Okay but the blackout armor is kinda… fanartists I'm looking at you

PLEASE the way that Imperial officer towers over Hunter 😭

"Iss-ewe" Rampart is so funny

Their armor is so distinct I think it’s so funny they thought taking the paint off would do anything. (It’s giving Marvel baseball cap and sunglasses disguise)

Please the lil face Rampart made when Hunter stunned the data guard and Crosshair shoved him into the room 😂

Wrecker just clocking that guy

Echo getting to solo ARC Trooper again 🥹

Woah that was a cool aerial shot of Tantiss into the vault

Why did I think Echo was going to steal a Stormtrooper's armor?

Stopppp Echo is going up the droid chute? Echo went up the droid chute.

Wrecker wearing the guys hat I’m deaddddd his little smile when he gave it back to him

Oh please please please let this work

ECHO IS NOT A DROID

Crosshair trusting in Echo, his team. When he told Rampart to relax it didn’t even sound snarky, it sounded like genuine reassurance.

Rampart was the one that said the line "Abort the mission."

Okay but husband with the "...Negative..." take me now

YESSS YES IT WORKED

OH my god this is probably my favorite episode of the season so far. Things have been really heavy with the overarching plot so I feel like we needed a little bit of a breather.

The creators did so well balancing the script for this one between the humor, the tension (especially at the end of 'will they attach on time') It almost felt like a callback to how a TCW episode would be balanced.

I'm relieved to know they literally just took the paint off their armor to 'blend in' (which were they really?) But I've been stressing all season that something horrible was the reason for them scrubbing the paint off.

I needed this episode, we all needed this episode to have some action and progression in the overarching plot with some good humor. Not the only two (three) things missing.

WHO IS CX-2?? (It's Tech. I won't be taking notes)

Give me wet rat Hunter (episode-whatever did not count)

Crosshair and Omega Hug

#TBBspoilers #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb season 3 spoilers #tbb season three spoilers #the bad batch s3 spoilers #the bad batch season 3 spoilers #the bad batch season three spoilers #bad batch s3 spoilers #bad batch season 3 spoilers #bad batch season three spoilers #tbb spoilers #the bad batch spoilers #bad batch spoilers #tbb season 3 #tbb season three #the bad batch season 3 #the bad batch season three #bad batch season 3 #bad batch season three

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wild-karrde · 7 months

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Part 1: The Antagonist

Series Master List | Next Part

A/N: ALRIGHT. SO. I REWROTE THE FIRST PART OF THIS SERIES. I HOPE YOU LIKE IT. As always, THANK YOU TO THE OUTSTANDING @teletraan-meets-jarvis FOR BETA READING THIS FOR ME!

Pairing: Gregor x f!Reader (nicknamed Bolts)

Rating: E 18+ MINORS BEGONE

Warnings: language, fingering, voyeurism, PiV sex, oral sex, impact play/spanking, Fives cameo

Word Count: 6.5k words

The bass of the music in 79s is damn near deafening as you step inside the bar, almost immediately spotting the magenta and grey paint of the 28th Combat Wing’s armor in their favored booth against the wall. What stands out more was the yellow hatch-marked commando armor sitting amongst them. Your teeth immediately find the inside of your cheek, gnawing away to ease your annoyance.

Fucking Gregor. Dammit.

You’ve been looking forward to this all week, but of course that fucking commando is here. Maker alive, he’s infuriating, but you aren’t about to let him ruin your night out. You have to cash out on all of the booze Chuckles owes you at some point, and he’s so rarely planetside, your opportunities are limited.

But why did it have to be the night that asshole is also around?

You’re not sure what exactly about Gregor gets under your skin. Maybe it’s his cocky smirk or his stupid hair or that ridiculous giggle that sounds like an inebriated fathier whinnying. Or maybe it’s the way he seems entirely unbothered by you. No matter what it is, Gregor’s got you figured and loves to dig his finger into that sore spot whenever he gets the chance. He’s already spotted you from across the room, raising an eyebrow as you start heading in his direction.

Not tonight, asshole.

You square your shoulders, swaying your hips a bit more than necessary. None of them have ever seen you out of your mechanic’s jumpsuit, and you’d picked your favorite (and only) dress for the occasion. It’s a simple, strappy black number, short, but not too short, shimmery, and easy enough to get into and out of should the need arise. After all, you deserve a little bit of attention. And maybe a good lay. If you can find one.

Gregor says nothing as he sips his beer, but his eyes never leave you, raking from your toes to your eyebrows as you nudge Chuckles and slide into the booth next to him.

“I’m sorry, I’m saving this seat for some greasy mechanic I owe a few drinks to,” Chuckles teases, slipping his arm over the back of the booth behind you.

“Oh, my apologies. Mind if I keep it warm until she gets here?” you joke back, playfully ruffling his mohawk, which is currently a deep purple color.

Crater rolls his eyes while Stones leans over, whispering that you look very nice, making you duck your head bashfully. Chuck flags down a waiter droid.

“What’ll it be, Bolts?” he asks, invoking the nickname he’d given you.”Just don’t break my non-existent bank account.”

“I’ll have a whiskey, please,” you request. Gregor raises an eyebrow again.

You feel annoyance tighten your chest. “What?” you ask sharply.

“Here we go,” mumbles Guin under his breath.

Gregor shrugs. “Just didn’t peg you for the whiskey type.”

“Oh, do enlighten me as to what type you thought I’d be, Captain.”

“Alright, alright, your seat’s not even warm yet,” Chuck mutters. He leans closer, speaking directly into your ear. “What is your damage with him?”

You sniff delicately, as if Chuckles has somehow misread the constant bickering between Gregor and you. “Nothin’. I just asked a question.”

Chuck rolls his eyes before sliding the whiskey in front of you. “Just drink this so you’ve got less of a stick up your ass.”

You glare at him, but accept the drink anyway, enjoying the slight burn in your throat and the warmth that settles into your belly.

It doesn’t take too many whiskeys before you feel yourself start to relax, some of the tension leaving your shoulders. You laugh at Chuckles’s terrible jokes, chat with Crater about the last bolo ball game, and even get Sticks to come out of his shell a bit, convincing him to regale you with the stories behind Chuckles’s most ridiculous injuries. The entire time, you notice Gregor’s stealing glances at you, and your confidence grows.

Let the bastard look.

You lean forward to take another sip of whatever drink Chuckles has ordered for you now. You let your cleavage rest on the table as your tongue wraps around the straw, pulling it between your lips. You glance up in time to see Gregor watching you over the rim of his glass. His eyes are on your breasts, but they quickly flick up to meet your gaze. You roll your eyes at his obvious leering, leaning back into the crook of Chuckles’s shoulder. The pilot seems somewhat surprised, but doesn’t move to pull away. Gregor says nothing, but something in his eyes seems to flare for a moment.

You’re imagining things.

As the evening progresses, Crater graciously excuses himself to head back to the barracks and catch up on some reports. As soon as their commanding officer disappears towards the bar to settle his tab, tongues loosen, and suddenly the conversation turns to romantic encounters. Unfortunately, the boys haven’t spent enough time planetside to rack up anything too salacious, so it isn’t long before you become the target of the conversation.

“C’mon, Bolts. What’s been your wildest night?”

“A lady never kisses and tells.”

“Who said anything about kissing?”

“And since when are you a lady?” You elbow Chuck for that comment, shooting him a glare with no real heat behind it.

“Oh, come on. There has to have been something that you’d consider memorable.”

You shrug. “Not lately.”

“No game or nothing worth writing home about?”

“You guys sure are nosey.”

“We’ve got to live vicariously through you, Bolts.”

You laugh, growing bolder as the liquor in your stomach warms you. “There was a guy a few weeks back. He did his best, and it was probably better sex than I’d had in a while, but that’s not saying much with the losing streak I’ve had going. Thinking of giving up and just going with the battery-powered lovers from here on out. At least then I get to finish.”

Stones groans in despair for your lackluster love life and Chuckles cackles loudly. “You sure do know how to pick ‘em, Bolts.”

You shrug. “It’s been a struggle.”

“Maybe you’re just looking in the wrong places.”

Gregor had been quiet for the last little while, but that comment from him draws your attention. And your ire.

“And what would you know about making a woman cum, Captain?” you sneer.

He grins cheekily. “Plenty.”

“I bet you couldn’t make a woman orgasm if your life depended on it,” you bite back.

Chuckles huffs in annoyance next to you. Gregor swirls the whiskey he’s switched to in the light, watching the legs of the liquid trail down the side of the glass.

“I’ll take that bet.”

It’s the first time he’s ever really openly antagonized you, and something about the way he’s looking at you sets your blood boiling and a very different sort of blaze licking up your spine. Your eyes lock onto one another, and for reasons you can’t explain, you feel heat pool between your legs. You adjust in the booth, and while the others are guffawing about something else Chuckles said to lighten the mood, Gregor notes the way your thighs rub together. He smirks, and you scowl back as your annoyance battles for control with the sudden tingle that ripples through your nerves. After another few minutes, you excuse yourself, unsure of where you’re heading.

Just need to get away from him for a minute.

Your feet carry you towards the back of the bar where it’s darker. You pass plenty of bodies pressed together, panting, sweating, and moaning in the dim lighting. Suddenly, you feel a hand in the small of your back, pressing you towards one unoccupied corner that’s far from any prying eyes. You whirl to find Gregor smirking down at you.

“I-I was looking for the ‘freshers,” you sputter.

“Now love, I don’t think that’s true at all,” he responds. “I think you were looking for trouble.”

You regain your bearings, scoffing at him as he backs you into the corner. You feel the heat grow between your legs, and you hate how your panties are sticking to you as he pins you against the wall, one arm braced next to your head as he leans closer, smirking. You can smell his sweat and his drink and his skin, and a sudden shiver rips through you. You jut your chin out defiantly.

“What do you want, Gregor?” you snap.

“Same thing as you.”

“And what’s that?”

He chuckles before leaning even closer to you, his voice rasping in your ear. “To make you cum.”

You snort indignantly, but your legs are trembling underneath you.

“The question is,” he continues. “How best to make that happen? Are you one of those lovers that wants to be taken roughly, with me buried deep in that sopping cunt of yours while I hold a hand over your mouth to keep you quiet? Or do you need me to build you up more slowly, take my time until you fall apart?” His fingers trail up your thigh, slipping under the fabric of your dress before digging into your skin slightly. He presses forward, slotting a knee between your legs, and your breathing quickens. His eyes are watching you as his fingers find the hem of your panties on your hip, and he twists the string of delicate lace around his knuckle.

“Now this feels like something you were hoping someone would take off of you tonight. That the case, love?”

You swallow hard.

“You want me to take these off of you?”

“No.”

He pulls his hand away immediately, clearly thinking he’s misread things, but you lock your fingers around his wrist. His eyes find yours in the darkness, the question in them apparent.

“I want you to make me cum with them on.”

His trademark smirk reappears, his fingers slipping back under your dress, drifting between your legs to press your clit through the thin fabric. He’s more sure of himself now, more certain you want this, and as much as you hate it, you absolutely fucking do.

“All worked up just from thinking about me? You’re practically soaked,” he murmurs.

“You talk a lot,” you mutter.

He chuckles against your ear. “I think you like when I talk.” His fingers find the hem of your panties between your legs, and you feel him push the lacy fabric aside, tracing through your dripping folds. “I think you like hearing all the ways that I think about fucking you, and trust me, I’ve thought about it a lot.” His first finger finds its way inside you, and you gasp, hitching one leg over his hip as your hands fly to his shoulders to find purchase. Gregor’s watching you as your lips part, your head thunking back against the wall as he slips a second finger inside you.

“That’s it, love. Let go for me. Let me take care of you.”

“I really don’t like you,” you try to snarl, but it comes out more of a whine.

He chuckles. “I think you want to dislike me, but that’s becoming more difficult.”

Your reply dies on your tongue, replaced by a gasp. His fingers are so thick and deliciously calloused. When they finally find that spongy place inside you, you dig your teeth into your lower lip to stifle a moan. He crowds you further against the wall, bearing down on that place inside you. “None of that now. Let me hear you.”

“Fuck you.”

“I might let you if you’re nicer,” he teases.

You dig your nails into the back of his neck, and he gasps lightly before he nudges the strap of your dress aside with his nose and bites down on the flesh of your shoulder. You groan out his name.

“Gregor.”

“That’s right. You like this, don’t you? Being back here where anyone could see you falling apart on my fingers.”

You suddenly become aware of just how exposed you are, and in spite of yourself, it thrills you. Glancing back over at the table, you see the boys are all still seated and chattering away, completely oblivious as to what’s going on. You’re mostly glad they’re not paying attention.

Mostly.

Gregor notes where your gaze has drifted. “You want them to watch, hm? I could call the others over. Have them see you finally get what you deserve.” You whimper, clenching around his fingers as he slips a third one in. “Oh, you liked that, didn’t you? You’re filthy, love. Maybe another time. Right now, I want you all to myself.”

You’re practically riding his palm right now, the man you’ve hated for months, but Maker above, you’re not about to stop. There’s something so deliciously obscene about how you never could have predicted this moment, and yet, here you were, fueled by need and anger and something else you can’t quite place. The music is faint enough back in this corner that you can hear the obscene wet noises coming from between your legs. You’re both sweating, foreheads pressed together, panting in each other’s faces.

“Gregor, I’m close.” It might be the first time you’ve said his name without a snarl tacked onto the last syllable.

“I know you are, love. Be good for me and soak my hand, yeah?”

You glare at him with heated eyes, mustering your last bit of defiance. “Make me.”

He sucks at the place just below your ear. “With pleasure.” With that, he presses against your clit with his thumb, circling slowly with just the perfect amount of pressure. Your mind goes fuzzy, teetering on the brink as he buries his face in your neck, panting against your sweaty skin. Your eyes rove the bar around you once more as Gregor’s thumb presses more firmly against the bundle of nerves between your legs. No one near you is paying any attention to you, mostly focused on their own partners, but a pair of piercing brown eyes draw your attention, and you lock gazes with Crater from across the bar.

He must have gotten sidetracked or decided to have one more drink away from his men as he closed out his tab, but either way, there he is, seemingly watching you ride Gregor’s fingers. His expression doesn’t change as your eyes find his. He brings his glass to his lips, his gaze unwavering as he surveys you. You’re not even absolutely certain he’s looking at you in this dimly lit mass of bodies, but you think he is, and that’s enough to send you flying towards the edge of your orgasm. You cum hard, your vision whiting out as you topple over the precipice. Gregor presses his mouth to yours, swallowing your scream, and you bite down on his bottom lip as you ride out your high. When the aftershocks have finally subsided, you slump against the wall as Gregor pulls his hand from between your legs. He holds you up, resting his chin on your shoulder as he pants against your skin.

Glancing back at the bar, you note Crater’s gone. If he was even actually there in the first place.

“I… still don’t like you,” you mutter between gulps of air.

He chuckles. “Keep telling yourself that, love.”

When your breathing finally steadies and your legs become usable again, he stands back, watching you as you straighten your clothes. You try to recompose yourself, smoothing your hair, and he grins. You roll your eyes at him, and he chuckles, leaning down to whisper in your ear.

“Looks like I won that bet.” He kisses you on the cheek, which infuriatingly makes your face flush with heat. You glare at him as he turns to leave, but you grab his arm again. In spite of months of derision and grumbled comments, you want more.

And you want it now.

His expression is puzzled, and you relish in it as you step closer to grip his rock-hard length on the outside of his pants, making him gasp. You whisper directly into his ear, ensuring only he’ll hear.

“Wait five minutes and then follow me outside. I’ll have a cab waiting.”

“What for?”

You kiss him, running your tongue over the inside of his lip before patting his cheek, enjoying the way he groans and the surprised look on his face.

“Double or nothing. But this time you can't use your hands.”

With that, you turn on your heel, heading back towards the table. Your fingers wander nervously over the fabric of your dress, ensuring there’s no wrinkle or strap out of place that would give away what happened in that dark corner. You pull your hair over one shoulder, hoping it covers the stinging mark where Gregor’s teeth found purchase against your skin. Chuckles glances up as you get closer, his eyes seemingly taking in everything you’d hoped to hide, but his expression doesn’t change. Heat rises in your cheeks, and you try to meet his gaze with a level stare of your own.

“Everything alright, Bolts?”

“Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. Just thinking I’ll head out. Got a long one tomorrow.”

“Want me to walk you home?”

“No. I mean, I’m good. But thank you. Don’t want to be a bother.”

Chuck nods.

“We all good here then? Don’t need me to settle up anything?” you ask.

Chuckles grins. “All good, but we’re even now, right?”

You smirk. “You wish, bud. You owe me at least two more nights like this before I’d call us even.”

The pilot rolls his eyes, but you wink before making your way back through the crowd and out the front door of the bar.

The night air is chilly, or at least it makes you shiver as the breeze hits your sweaty skin. You wrap your arms around yourself, eyeing the area where taxis usually could be flagged down. There’s a large crowd gathered, and apparently, it’s a slow night with the cabs. You shift your weight on your feet nervously, weighing your options. You’d rather not stand in a crowd with Gregor. Your cunt throbs between your legs, still slick from the orgasm the commando wrenched from you, and still craving more. There’s a moment of sharp clarity where you realize what just occurred, what you’ve propositioned. You pause to consider it.

Yes, you’ve always disliked Gregor for whatever imagined slights you’ve clung to, but you’ve just allowed him to pleasure you better than any lovers in recent memory, perhaps ever. And he followed through on his promise, and has seemingly agreed to do it again, wrenching another orgasm from you. If he was actually a sleamo, you’d have never let him touch you, and now, your mind really tries to pinpoint what it is about him that’s always pissed you off. He’s good looking, and he knows it, and he’s always been able to read you, seemingly finding the most annoying places to press into. Well, until he found a very different sort of place to press against tonight, one that made your legs tremble and your nerves flare with electricity. You still can’t quite put your finger on what it is about him that makes you angry, but you’re definitely certain about the reasons you want him to fuck you now.

It was unexpected, impulsive, almost taboo, and that made it more thrilling. And him being so eager to pull another orgasm from you? Well, that’s new. Even with your shared history, you’ve never met a man so focused on you, and deep down, you like the attention. Even if it is Gregor.

You turn back towards the club, and see the lanky commando just exiting. As much as you’d love to take him back to your apartment and fuck in a real bed, something about it seems too intimate, even with your revelations. In your mind, it’s almost some sort of concession, admitting that you’ve enjoyed him enough to be vulnerable, to allow him into your space. And that’s not something you’re ready for, at least not yet. You just want a release. Well, more than the one he’s already given you, and you’re not feeling patient enough to wait for a cab. You lock eyes with him, jerking your head towards one of the alleys.

He seems to take your cue, following behind you as you stride in between the two buildings, picking your way around a few couples that seemed to have the same idea. You’re pretty sure one of them is that ARC with the tattoo on his temple from the 501st, but it’s hard to tell with the way he’s bent over the woman he’s fucking against the wall. As you walk past, she moans out “Fives,” and confirms your suspicions. A sharp thrill of anticipation snakes through you.

Gregor might fuck you like that in a minute.

You think he might grab your hand to lead you through the alley, but he allows you to lead, hovering just half a step behind you without touching you. And that almost seems to make the space between you fizzle with anticipation. As soon as you get far enough past the other pairs to give yourselves a semblance of privacy, you finally feel warm hands snake around your waist. Gregor spins you, pinning you against the wall. You hiss as the cool bricks scrape against your bare shoulder blades, but it’s more from surprise than anything else.

“What do you want, love?” Gregor asks, hands already wandering your body. The lighting out here is only a little better than inside 79s, but the shadows work in his favor, sharpening his features and somehow making his eyes more piercing.

Karking hells, he’s hot.

“I want you to fuck me hard against this wall until I cum as many times as I need to,” you gasp, arching into his touch as he squeezes your breast over your dress.

The corner of his mouth lifts into a triumphant smirk, one that would normally make you snarl at him, but he’s already got you unraveling. “Yeah? I think I can do that. Just gotta help me get ready.” He guides your hand between his legs, and you feel his cock through his pants again. He’s softened a little in the last few minutes since you’d separated, and while you could probably get him hard again just by stroking him, you want to turn the tables and get him back on his heels a bit.

You want to wipe that smirk off of his stupidly handsome face. You want him to whimper for you.

Pushing him away from you, you squat down, carefully balancing on your toes, and start working to free his cock from his pants. Luckily, he’d opted to not wear any armor above his knees tonight, and it only takes a moment to fish out your prize. He’s long, and so thick and warm in your grasp. You feel your mouth watering already at the prospect of what you’re about to do.

“Oh, Maker, Bolts. Is that what you want?” he asks, and you feel his cock twitch against your palm.

You say nothing, glaring up at him before you slip him past your lips. You groan as you taste him, tracing his shaft and flicking at the head of his cock with your tongue. Gregor’s mouth falls open slightly, and he gives you exactly what you’d hoped for, a whine high in his throat. You take him deeper, relishing in the way he stretches your jaw, even as his head brushes the back of your throat. With watering eyes, you drag your tongue along the bottom of him, pulling back enough to wrap your fingers around his length, twisting as you take him again. Gregor hisses out a curse between clenched teeth, and you hum, smirking around your mouthful. The commando stares down at you, clinging to what’s left of his composure.

“Now love, I thought the rule was no hands?” he scolds breathlessly, reaching down to grab both of your wrists. He pins them against the wall with one of his massive hands, stepping closer and thrusting gently into your mouth. Your head rests against the wall, and all you can do is open your jaw wider to accommodate him as he presses even closer. He keeps your hands pinned against the wall, interlacing his fingers with yours. “Squeeze if it’s too much, but I’m not going to go easy. Not with the way you’ve run that mouth at me.” He’s teasing, and you raise an eyebrow, grazing him with your teeth. He reaches down, gripping your jaw firmly.

“Oh, I’m going to enjoy this,” he grits out darkly, and you shiver at how the hoarse, lighthearted rasp of his voice has turned to a deep gravel that promises to ruin you. Without further preamble, Gregor snaps his hips into you until you choke. He watches you for a moment, and when you don’t squeeze his hand, he starts fucking your mouth without abandon. You focus on breathing through your nose as he drives his cock into your throat, running your tongue along the bottom of his shaft, trying to find the place that’ll make him come undone. Tears stream from your eyes, surely ruining your makeup, and rivulets of saliva slide over your lips, dribbling down your chin and neck. Gregor’s too far gone to note your efforts with your tongue, swearing under his breath as he uses you.

And as much as you dislike him, you love this.

Even if you’ll never admit it.

You can feel your pulse between your legs, and your pussy is begging for some sort of stimulation. You flex your wrists experimentally to see if you’ll be allowed one hand to touch yourself with, but Gregor tightens his grip.

“That greedy little cunt is going to have to wait,” he rasps, glancing down at your pleading eyes with the smuggest expression imaginable. “I’m going to get my credits worth out of your mouth first.” With that, he pushes to the back of your throat, burying your nose in the dark curls at his base, and he holds you there. Your vision blurs with tears, and he’s cut off your air, but fuck you love it.

You feel his thumb trace your hand, reminding you that you can squeeze anytime to have him release you, but tapping out at this point would mean letting him win, and you’re not about to do that.

After what feels like an eternity, he pulls out of your mouth, and you gasp for air as a thick string of spit connects the two of you. You gasp and choke as you try to catch your breath, but Gregor is already pulling you to your feet, spinning you to face the wall and pushing your dress up and your panties to the side. Your knees protest as pins and needles snake down your calves where the blood flow was cut off in your squatting position, but you don’t have time to complain as Gregor kicks your feet apart, lining himself up with your entrance.

“You ready to cum on my cock, love?”

Your voice feels rough as you reply. “We’ll see if you can make me.”

Gregor pulls the strap of your dress off your shoulder, freeing your breast, which he immediately grabs, pinching your nipple. In spite of yourself, your head falls back against his shoulder as you try to press the tender flesh into his palm. He squeezes roughly as he takes your earlobe in his teeth, chuckling.

“Oh, I’ll make sure you can still feel me all day tomorrow. And that you’ll be back for more.”

The snarled retort is on the tip of your tongue when he sheathes himself fully in you in one stroke, and it’s strangled by the high-pitched gasp that rips out of you. Gregor crowds you against the wall, practically lifting you up on your toes with every thrust. You’re going to be sore tomorrow, you’re certain of that with how he’s stretching you out, carving out his place inside of you with every snap of his hips. Your breasts press against the cool, rough brick, and normally, you’d complain that it was uncomfortable, but Gregor’s cock hits a place inside you that makes you cry out loudly, and the pleasure overshadows the pain.

“Shhh, love,” Gregor coos in your ear. “Gonna attract an audience. Unless that’s what you want?”

“Thought y-you liked hearing me,” you gasp.

“Inside was louder. Out here, everyone can hear you mewling.”

You place your palms against the wall, digging your teeth into your lip to try and keep your moans locked inside you. Gregor shifts his grip on your hips, reaching up to splay his massive palm against your breast, his other hand trailing between your legs. You regain enough brainpower to swat it away.

“No hands,” you snarl.

He huffs a laugh, redoubling his efforts. “Fine then. We’ll be here longer, so you’ll really have to stay quiet.” He purposefully bottoms out, and you moan before you can stop yourself. “You’re so loud, Bolts,” he teases, bearing down on the place inside of you that’s making your legs tremble beneath you. “I suppose I can help with that.”

His hand slides over your mouth, and you think he’s just going to muffle your screams, but instead, he slides three fingers into your mouth, pressing down on your tongue. You whine, and he chuckles, driving into you. You want to make a comment about how loud his hips are slapping against your ass, how the wet sounds of your cunt are echoing down the alley, how Gregor’s panting and grunting in your ear, and you certainly would if the pads of his fingers weren’t pressing against your tongue. You realize those are the same fingers that touched you earlier, that found the place his cock has now discovered, and you can still taste traces of your orgasm on his callouses. He hooks the corner of your lip, pulling the corner of your mouth down enough to allow a trail of saliva to slither over his knuckles.

“Sloppy little thing,” he mutters, and you moan. The brick scratches against your chest and palms as he pushes you harder against the wall, using it to pin you in place as he takes you roughly. You feel eyes on you, and turning your head as much as you can manage, you find the gaze of the woman that Fives is fucking. The ARC trooper is on his knees now, his face hidden under her skirt, one of her legs draped over his pauldron. The woman’s braced against the wall, her sharp purple eyes watching you with interest as her fingers snake through Fives’s curls. It’s hard for you to tell in the dark, but you’re almost certain Fives is stroking himself as he lavishes her cunt with attention, his arm moving in a repetitive motion as he groans quietly. The woman winks at you, her tongue darting out to moisten her lips before Fives pulls a moan from her.

“Knew you’d like an audience,” Gregor rasps. “Now, let’s give them a show.” His hand leaves your breast, disappearing for a moment before he brings it down in a stinging slap across your ass. Your eyes roll back into your head as the pain courses through your veins, blossoming to pleasure under Gregor’s warm palm. He lands another blow to your other cheek, and this time, you can’t help but scream around his digits. Your cunt spasms around his cock, and you know you’re close, so close.

“Your pussy’s going to choke me, love,” Gregor moans. “Better finish you off before you milk me dry.”

“T-tfhh eeee,” you mumble around his fingers.

You know he’s grinning behind you.

“What was that?”

You bite his finger gently, and he yanks his hand loose, spanking you again.

“Touch m-me,” you demand once you regain your breath.

“Now, you said no hands was the rule. And I intend to comply.”

“I know what the fuck I said,” you snap.

He readjusts, and somehow, he hits the perfect place. Your eyes cross and you think your legs might give out. You moan, your forehead resting against the brick as you try to not move, hoping he’ll strike the same place again.

“Ask nicely,” Gregor whispers mockingly.

Your resolve and animosity crumbles to ash as he strokes the same place inside you again.

“Please,” you beg. “I’m so close. Please, please, pleasepleasepleaseplease.”

“Oh, I love hearing you beg like that,” Gregor groans. You expect him to tease you more, dangling you over the edge as you whine and thrash helplessly, but he relents, slipping his hand between your legs and easily finding your clit, which he presses against with the perfect amount of pressure.

“Say ‘thank you, Gregor,’ and I’ll let you cum.”

Fuck, you despise this man. He’s embedded himself under your skin for no discernible reason, and yet, you’ve let him touch you and pleasure you and fuck you, and there’s no way you’re going to be able to scrub this night from your mind. You’re going to want this again, no matter how much you push against it, and knowing that Gregor’s a willing participant, even if you’re ready to scream every curse you can think of at him right now, well, that makes it even easier to allow it to happen again.

If he’ll just let you finish.

He slows the roll of his hips, and you groan in frustration. Your desperation is clouding your mind at this point, and as you feel the finish line of your orgasm slipping away, you become frantic. He’s dangled you long enough, and after months and months of not having anything but your toys to sate you, you’ll allow yourself this small humiliation in order to get what you want.

“Please. Please, let me cum. I’ll say anything you want.”

He snickers, snapping his hips again, and you’re immediately back on the edge, tingling with anticipation as your entire body thrums with pleasure. You hate how easily he’s got you figured, how quickly he shoves you back to the precipice, and how smug he’s going to be about it.

You’ll be mad later. Right now, you can’t be bothered to care.

He leans closer, and you know what he’s waiting for.

“Thank you for fucking me like this, Gregor.”

His fingers press harder against your clit just as the tip of his cock slams into the spot no one else has ever come close to reaching. You claw at the wall in front of you as your vision whites out once more, and you feel him pull out of you, expending ropes of his seed across the curves of your ass.

He doesn’t let you fall, his hands flying to your waist and his weight pinning you in place against the wall as your knees threaten to crumble underneath you. His hold is much gentler than it was a moment ago, and he rests his chin on your shoulder as he recovers.

“That was fun,” he pants, and you can practically hear his mouth curling into a grin, but somehow, it’s not as smug as you thought it’d be. “We should do it again some time.”

“Not if you’re going to make a mess of me before sending me home,” you mutter, glancing around for something to wipe the quickly-cooling spend off of you.

“Allow me.”

You feel fabric wipe across your ass, and turning, you see Gregor tucking the soiled edge of his shirt back into his pants along with his cock. He shrugs when you raise an eyebrow.

“I imagine that wouldn’t be very comfortable in the cab home.”

“You imagine correctly.”

You stand there staring at one another for a moment awkwardly in the now-empty alley, Fives and his companion having finished their encounter and disappeared. This entire thing was unexpected to say the least, and neither of you know what comes next. You break into nervous laughter, straightening your panties and dress.

“I like your smile. Don’t get to see it very often.”

In spite of yourself, heat flushes across your face. You reach up to fix your hair, and a warm hand cups your cheek. You lock eyes with Gregor, and he’s staring at you so gently you almost forget how much you dislike him.

Almost.

“Don’t you even think of kissing me.”

“We already kissed.”

He has a point, but of course you won’t give any more ground. “I’d hardly call that a kiss.”

He huffs a laugh. “Fair enough.” He reaches out, brushing some of your hair back into place. It’s surprising, and fuck, your treacherous heart clenches just a bit at the tenderness of the gesture. It’s not because you’ve suddenly developed feelings for him, but you can’t remember the last time someone touched you like that, so gentle and warm.

It hasn’t been that long. And you’re not that desperate for affection. Just for a good fuck.

And this was a good fuck.

You survey him for another moment as he rubs the back of his neck. “I won’t tell anyone if that’s what you’re worried about,” he offers.

“Do I look worried?”

“You look uneasy.” He smirks. “Although maybe it’s because the man you loathe made you cum. Twice.”

You cross your arms over your chest, rolling your eyes. Gregor steps closer, straightening the strap on your dress. “I meant what I said. I’d do it again. If you’d like.”

His brown eyes lock onto yours, and you consider it. Your shoulders do feel like they’ve dropped away from your ears, some of the tension you’ve been carrying for as long as you can remember seemingly vanished. And you feel like your fuse isn’t as short. Even the steady thrum of annoyance that you’ve felt tearing through you since the moment you laid eyes on Gregor seems to have abated slightly.

No one would suspect it since we hate each other. No expectations. Just sex. Really good sex.

I could use really good sex.

“I suppose I could tolerate you doing that when you’re planetside,” you concede. “But no one else finds out. And this is just sex.”

“Just sex,” he agrees, extending his hand to seal the deal. “Shake on it?”

“You’re an idiot,” you grumble, stepping past him, leaving his hand hanging in the air. He catches your waist from behind, pulling you back against him.

“Don’t forget this idiot that knows how your pussy feels wrapped around his cock. Now, are you going to give me your comm?”

“Fuck off. You know where to find me when you get back,” you mutter, ignoring the way your thighs are clenching together again at his words.

Get it the fuck together.

“True. Since you never leave that garage,” he snickers. Before you can protest, he pecks a kiss to your temple and gently pushes you forward by your ass, squeezing the curve of it a little. You stumble a bit, shooting him a glare over your shoulder.

“Get home safe, Bolts,” he says quietly. In spite of everything, he’s being sincere. And that’s nice.

You pause. “Yeah. You too.”

His smirk fades and his gaze softens at your words, but he quickly slips his default expression back into place. Raising an eyebrow, he gives you a two-fingered salute, and you roll your eyes again before walking off to find a cab.

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @zoeykallus @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @skellymom @runforrestr @djarrex @corrieguards @the-cantina @witchklng @fives-lover @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#karrde writes #the antagonist #the blitz series #captain gregor #clone commando gregor #gregor x reader #gregor x you #nsft #lemon #lemony lemon #enemies to lovers #but only one of them thinks so #OC Chuckles #OC Crater #28th Combat Wing #clone OC

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areyoudreaminof · 9 months

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and we kissed as though nothing would fall: A Helion x Lady of Autumn Playlist

It's a great day for being sad! Here's Helion x Lady of Autumn for you.

Of all the novellas and backstories, I know we all want this the doomed affair that lasted for centuries, and resulted in our favorite fox boy. There has to be so much hurt and longing still lingering there. This playlist goes through the range of emotions that I thinkk this heartbreak brought upon both Helion and the LoA. But I wanted there to be hope too. That soft kind of hope that these two can come back together to each other where they belong.

Listen Here! Lyrical deep dive under the cut.

Special dedication to my favorite Helion x LoA besties @spell-cleavers and @ablogofsapphicpanic

I've added a second link to the playlist above, as it seems that it does not show up on the browser, just mobile.

The One That Got Away-The Civil Wars Got away from me Before anybody has to bleed

Oh, if I could go back in time When you only held me in my mind Just a longing gone without a trace Oh, I wish I'd never ever seen your face I wish you were the one I wish you were the one that got away

A Record Year for Rainfall-The Decemberists

What's the use of all of this? It's to remember you in the entire 'Cause I'm watching it slip away And in the annals of the empire Did it look this grey Before the fall?

Falling Slowly-The Swell Season

Falling slowly Eyes that know me And I can't go back And moods that take me And erase me And I'm painted black Well, you have suffered enough And warred with yourself It's time that you won

Samson-Regina Spektor

You are my sweetest downfall I loved you first, I loved you first Beneath the sheets of paper lies my truth I have to go, I have to go Your hair was long when we first met

Beloved Wife-Natalie Merchant

My love is gone Now my suffering begins My love is gone Would it be wrong if I should Surrender all the joy in my life Go with her tonight?

Such Great Heights-Iron & Wine

I am thinking it's a sign That the freckles in our eyes are mirror images And when we kiss they're perfectly aligned And I have to speculate That God himself did make us into corresponding shapes Like puzzle pieces from the clay

Skinny Love-Bon Iver

Come on, skinny love, just last the year Pour a little salt, we were never here My my my, my my my, my my Staring at the sink of blood and crushed veneer I tell my love to wreck it all Cut out all the ropes and let me fall My my my, my my my, my my Right in this moment, this order's tall

Hey Jupiter-Tori Amos

Sometimes I breathe you in And I know you know And sometimes you take a swim Found your writing on my wall If my heart’s soaking wet Boy, your boots can leave a mess

No Rest for the Wicked-Lykke Li

My one heart hurt another So only one life can't be enough Can you give me just another For that one who got away? Lonely I, I'm so alone now There'll be no rest for the wicked There's no song for the choir There's no hope for the weary If you let them win without a fight

No One's Gonna Love You-Band of Horses

Anything to make you smile You are the ever-living ghost of what once was I never want to hear you say That you'd be better off or you liked it that way And no one is ever gonna love you more than I do No one's gonna love you more than I do

I Need My Girl-The National

I am good, I am grounded Davy says that I look taller But I can't get my head around it I keep feeling smaller and smaller I need my girl I need my girl

Death With Dignity -Sufjan Stevens

Somewhere in the desert, there’s a forest And an acre before us But I don’t know where to begin But I don’t know where to begin Again, I've lost my strength completely, oh be near me Tired, old mare with the wind in your hair

The Greatest-Cat Power

Melt me down Into big black armor Leave no trace of grace Just in your honor Lower me down To culprit south

Heroes-David Bowie

Though nothing, nothing will keep us together We can beat them forever and ever Oh, we can be heroes, just for one day

And the shame was on the other side Oh, we can beat them forever and ever Then we can be heroes, just for one day

Taglist: @bookofmirth @bellatrixship @brieq @citruspearls @c-e-d-dreamer @damedechance @eyllweambassador @gaeleria @ofduskanddreams @highqueenmorrigan @hugeclearjellyfish @itsthedoodle @autumndreaming7 @kataravimes-of-the-shire @krem-has-a-mess @kingofsummer93 @lucienarcheron @octobers-veryown @andrigyn @mossytrashcan @witch-and-her-witcher @popjunkie42-blog @reverie-tales @rosanna-writer @separatist-apologist @secret-third-thing @lucienforhighking @thesistersarcheron @thelovelymadone @the-lonelybarricade @ultadverb @vulpes-fennec @velidewrites @vanserrass @wittyrejoinder @bagelfyre @xtaketwox @yazthebookish @wilde-knight @iftheshoef1tz @labellefleur-sauvage @carmasi @corcracrow @courtofthought @corvulpescompendium @tuzna-pesma-snova @cursebrkr @acourtdelaluna

Here is the link again. https://open.spotify.com/playlist/65pMS8WExB3Aywccg3CPn3?si=_R276WLATEWC9jUd1u4XWQ

#Spotify #loa x helion #acotar playlist project

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agbpaints · 4 months

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Getting back into the swing of doing paint tutorials- I pulled a Spider out of a salvage box and I figured I'd do a quick and dirty davion scheme! This is the parade paint job for the First Davion Guards, AKA quintessential battletech 'good' guy mechs.

Paints you will need:

Black primer

Dark grey (citadel mechanicus standard grey)

Light grey (citadel dawnstone)

Off white (army painter spaceship armor)

Red (citadel mephiston red)

Light blue (citadel baharroth blue)

Green (citadel warpstone glow)

Gun metal (citadel leadbelcher)

Silver (citadel rune fang steel)

Dark wash (citadel drakenhof nightshade)

Citadel akhelian green cintrast

Citadel blood angels red contrast

Things you might want

Khaki (citadel zandri dust)

Fleshy orange (citadel ratskin flesh)

White (army painter matt white)

Dark green (citadel Caribana green)

Light red (citadel evil sunz scarlet)

Yellow (citadel averland sunset)

Black (army painter matt black)

Citadel aggaros dunes contrast

I started by basing my mini with my normal desert badlands basing scheme (paint base in glue, sprinkle on basing sand and let cure. Paint on more glue and stick down some aquarium gravel) and then priming the whole thing black with brush-on primer.

Once the primer is finished drying, load some of your dark grey up on a fat drybrush, wipe off slightly less than most of the paint, and then apply the remainder to the model in long up and down strokes. All of the panels should be grey, with some black showing in crevices and hard to reach recesses of the model. Next, repeat this process with your light grey paint, but wipe off more and apply less liberally- you want the darker grey color to remain in most places with the edges and raised details highlighted in grey. Finally, drybrush the model one last time with your off-white color only in the areas that will catch the light most like the head, torso, shoulders, the vectoring fins on the mech's back, and the outstretched left knee.

Now that the mech has been presented in greyscale, we can make it blue. Akhelian green is going to be doing the majority of the heavy lifting in this paint scheme- I find it to be a pretty easy contrast paint to work with. Apply it undiluted to the model, looking to spread it in a single coat like a thick wash, and then leave it to dry for 20 minutes. Afterwards, you might want to brighten the blue up in places as I did- drybrush on some light blue in the same areas you used off-white earlier.

At this point, I got a little excited and decided to do the Davion stripes. Start with your red, pretty well thinned on your palet, and a thin detail brush. To make this easy on ourselves, we're going to look for vertical panels on the left side of the mech's torso and leg and basically connect all of those with a straight line. In the case of the Spider, the easy ones are the shoulder and that panel that runs down the upper thigh. Apply a thin edge highlight of red along those panels and then carefully continue the line down the rest of the leg, terminating at the ankle. If your hand is steady enough, run a thin line of red around the mech's ankle where the vertical line ends. Then, go back with your off-white and using the red line you made already as a guide, run a parallel stripe down the outside edge of the red (if you swap these battletech nerds will dunk on you online).

At this point, I also striped the ridge running down the Spider's helmet, but it's not super necessary.

Now that we've got our blue sorted out, we've got a bit of a 'draw the rest of the owl' step. First, you're going to want to go back over any of the parts of the model that you want to be exposed mechanical elements with your dark grey. I painted the joints in the legs, the shoulders, the lasers and the big vent on the chest, the 'chin strap' under the spider's canopy glass, and the jump jets in this color. Then, wash the grey with your favorite dark wash- I really like the deep blue of drakenhof nightshade but something like nuln oil will also work well for this. Finally, apply a light drybrush of your light grey to the shaded grey. If a part is too recessed to easily drybrush, you can leave it as is or do use a small brush to carefully highlight it. You should also add a small dot of green to the inside of each of the laser barrels at this point.

Next, paint the mech's canopy glass silver. Once that's dry, paint over the silver with blood angels red or any other colorful contrast paint for a vibrant metallic color.

If you're following along with my desert basing, paint the sand on the base khaki and the larger pebbles with your fleshy orange. Then paint over everything with agarros dunes contrast or a dark brown wash like agrax earthshade.

And with that you have a Spider that's fully ready for tabletop with 3 colors, shading, and a textured base. There's still a couple more things we can do if you have more time and patience that I'll detail below.

To apply some quick and dirty jeweling to the lasers, start by painting a half circle of light green on each barrel, focused on one of the bottom corners. Paint the recess of the barrel with a dot of dark green and put a tiny little dot of white opposite the half circle of green, which should now be more of a crescent shape with with dark spot in the center.

While the white is still in your pallet, you can also highlight the parts of the off white stripes on the mech most exposed to overhead light like the lower thigh, knee, and shoulder. Do the same thing with the red stripe using a light red as well.

At this point I also added unit numbering to the mech's shoulder. Basic numbers are a really good way to practice your fine control and I try to consistently add a couple to each of my projects. Use your off-white well thinned and a fine detail brush, lock your hand holding the model against your hand holding the brush just below the wrists, and then draw the paintbrush 'downwards' with a pulling motion. This should keep you your line relatively straight and fine.

While you can keep the jump jets on your mech dark I prefer to paint mine with some orange in them. Using the fleshy orange from earlier, paint most of the interior of each jump jet, then add a dot of yellow at the very deepest recess of each one.

Finally, let's add some hazard stripes to the mech. Pick out a few areas near joints or vents that seem like a bad place for an Astech's hand to go and paint in a thick 'edge highlight' of black. Then, going back to yellow find the center of the line and add a diagonal tickmark there. You may need to go over this more than twice to get a strong color depending on your yellow. Once your centerline is marked, work out towards the edges, painting another ticmark at regular intervals until you hit the ends of the Black.

#hobby #battletech #miniatures #mini painting #battlemech #mecha #mechwarrior #mech #light mech #spider #first davion guards #house davion #painting tutorial #tutorial #c&c pls

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vaimetanyx · 11 months

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Alright I've been sitting on some of this stuff for over a year, but here's the first part in a series of cosplay breakdowns! Starting with my most ambitious part of my Zagreus cosplay - the skull pauldron

(Full process under read more)

[Skull pauldron] [Belt] [Greaves] [Toga + sash] [Wig + Laurels] [Armbands] [Flaming feet] [Satyr Sack] [Stygius v1] [Stygius v2] [Nectar]

Now while maybe not the most complex bit of cosplay armor, nor the most detailed skull around, this was my first time working with foam and 3D pattern making in general. So I started off with a rough design mock up with paper, make a pattern with cardboard, then tested to see if the pattern worked with more cardboard (making slight adjustments as I went)

Next was breaking out the foam and starting to make the skulls for real. I had some trouble figuring out angles at first, and a few pieces didn't fit together perfectly, but it still came together in the end. The next skulls went a bit more smooth as I now knew what I was doing

Then some bulking out and detailing with foam clay! I used Lumin's Studio's grey foam clay, and would highly recommend it. I had some trouble deciding on how detailed/realistic to make the teeth and ended up using real dog skulls as reference and simplifying them

I had to prime them to paint - unfortunately plastidip is expensive and I had trouble using it on my other foam pieces, and the pauldron have a very complex shape, so I ended up sealing them with PVA glue. Not the best option but the only one I had at the time. But with that done, I could begin painting. Now, I should have done this after I'd attached the spine section, but I wasn't sure how to tackle that so I distracted myself from spine logistics by priming and painting (I just used acrylic paints)

Then the most difficult part - the spines and attaching them to the toga. My first idea was to make hollow 'bones' that would slot into each other and have internal wire so they're repositionable, but this ended up being far too bulky

In the end I scrapped these pieces and cut them up to make a more flat spine (hot glued onto a wire frame - I used copper wire that has been in my cupboard for 3 years). I had to build a mock shoulder to rest the pauldron on, and did my best to position the base in line with where the toga trim would sit

To make it stick to the toga I used a bit of velcro and two snap buttons in the side corners - the connecting point is also hidden by a material 'sleeve' to help keep it all in place, but I'll have more on that in my toga post. I needed to make sure it was detachable for transport and to be able to wash the toga after wearing it

Then another round of PVA glue and acrylic paint, a few coats of a matte sealer to get that good uniform bone texture over the whole thing, and some black poplin to cover the open base of the skulls, and they're done!

In the end, they're a bit more chunky than I would have liked, and the paint job could use a bit more shading to bring out the shape of the skulls a bit more, but overall I'm quite happy with them!

#my cosplay #cosplay process #hades game #zagreus cosplay #all the official art isn't consistent and that gives me both creative liberty and a headache trying to decide which direction to go in #god this may be my longest post in the 7 years I've been posting on this site #anyway if anyone wants the pattern for the skulls let me know!

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moodymisty · 2 years

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♔ Queen of the Wolfpack ♔

Author's Note: I hope y'all are ready for my 'getting fucked like a whore in an alley' arc

Summary: After a drink or two you'd just thought it would be fun to see how long it would take for him to catch you; But it turns out when you tease a wolf, you get his teeth.

Relationships: Wolffe/Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Possessive!Wolffe, Predator/prey kink, Gratuitous overuse of the petname 'lamb', Light dirty talk, Hair pulling, Rough sex, Armor/helmet kink, Fingering, Very light choking kink, Semi-public sex, Alleyway sex, Clothed sex, Unprotected sex,

Words: 5161

Ao3 Link

79's was packed.

Even more so than usual it seemed, as there was tons of unfamiliar tattoos and armor patterns decorating the near overflowing crowd. Though you weren't exactly a frequent comer; Bars this packed had never really been much of your style. It didn't help that you seemed to be early as there wasn't a set of grey painted armor in sight, as you took a look around. Pushing through a sea of bodies and eventually making it to the bar, you take the one empty bar stool and decide to order yourself something light.

Considering how packed the bar was you were surprised how fast you managed to get your drink, cupping it with both hands as you look around the main floor. Still none of the grey painted clone armor you've been looking for, sighing and taking a sip of your drink. Just as your lips wrap around the edge of the glass to take a sip is when your eyes glance to the right, seeing some movement that caught the corner of your eye.

The clone directly beside you looks far more than a little bit tipsy and seems rearing up to lean over and talk to you, but his more sober drinking partner pulls on his forearm before he had a chance to do so. It makes him go off balance and almost topple off the bar stool into the other clone, before they both right themselves. You take another sip of your drink and look away, trying to listen over the deafening noises but not seem like you could hear them.

"Don't even try it. That's a terrible kriffing idea."

The drunker soldier gestures to the bartending droid for more, before turning to his companion and asking why he seemed so against his idea.

"I've seen her around the base; She's with the Wolfpack. You got zero chance with those loth-wolves lurking around her, buddy. Find another lady."

Sitting your glass down, it almost gets toppled over when you suddenly yelp, feeling a hand firmly clap your shoulder. You turn around just as you hear the more sober clone tell his friend:

"See? Told you so."

The bar stool squeaks and struggles to turn with you on it, looking to see Wolffe right behind you. As well as Comet and Boost; So surely Sinker wasn't far away.

"Hey!" You shout over the music, looking up to see Wolffe taking off his helmet. He gestures with a jerk of his head to the second floor, though it only spans half of the bar.

"Come follow us. We got the table on the balcony." Nodding and slipping off the bar stool you follow, Wolffe's hand against your left shoulder blade. He guides you towards the back of the bar where the stairs are and you all go up them, sitting in a booth towards the edge of the second floor. You can look down over the side to the first floor when you slip into the innermost side of the seat and adjust the skirt of your dress, trapped in by Wolffe on your right side. Sinker sits across from you, while Comet and Boost are across from Wolffe. They all have their helmets off and on the table, close at hand. Sinker is the one to speak up first, already having flagged down someone for drinks.

"Lucky seeing you here; Thought you weren't to keen on busy bars?" You all order drinks before you look back at Sinker and answer.

"Wolffe asked me out here, since he was on shore leave and we don’t get much time together that isn’t on holocall." That gets the other men's attention, turning to speak to their commander while you take a sip of the drink just now put in front of you.

"You thought a good date would be to take her with your men to a bar packed with a bunch of other clones?" Sinker looks amused, glancing between you and Wolffe.

"I don't mind," You speak up, smiling. That doesn't seem to persuade Wolffe's men, who are all looking at their commander as if he’s just suddenly grown a second head. Even for as sheltered as the clones are, even they have an idea that this isn’t a common date idea.

"I mean, I'd rather be in a packed bar with you guys than all alone," Sinker lets out a loud laugh, bumping the table as Comet speaks. He's smiling while pointing at you for a second.

"Commander, with all due respect; If you don’t m-" Wolffe cuts him off.

"If you have respect, you won't finish what I think you're going to say."

Comet closes his mouth, but he still seems amused. Instead he changes the subject only slightly, looking down at the bar where they'd found you. The bar stool you'd been on has since been filled; Whole area stuffed to the gills.

"Any of the shinies try and make a pass at you?" Comet is already two glasses down down the hatch, and is trying to flag down a third. You shake your head and lean slightly into Wolffe; Looking up and noticing that he seems quite keen on hearing your answer.

"No, but one almost did though. The one that was next to me when you all got here." Comet manages to get his third drink, but is too interested in what you’re saying to instantly chug it down.

"He was hyping himself up but his buddy stopped him before he had the chance. Said he shouldn't bother since he knew I was with you guys." Wolffe lets out an amused scoff.

"A smart one. Saved his brother’s tail."

You playfully shove your shoulder against him harder, still staying close. He'd since laid his arm over the seat to wrap around your shoulders, head leaning on his bicep. He's still in his full armor, the man rarely takes it off, so it's firm and unbending against you.

"You know," Comet is too many drinks down to realize any better, and leans across the table as if to tell you a secret. "The other clones have a nickname for you on the base."

Your brow furrows, feeling Wolffe's hand tighten against your shoulder. How'd you get enough of a reputation to have a nickname? Sure you do some work around the base, it was how you met Wolffe, but you didn’t think you’d made that much of an impact.

But then again; Whenever you were around, you were always flanked by 104th troopers.

"It's 'Queen of the Wolfpack'. Heard the shinies passing it around."

Your first drink is finally down and there's soon another within your grasp, while you scoff and almost laugh.

"Is it common for clones to everyone mysterious nicknames? Or am I just that special?" Leaning back against the seat Boost seems content to nurse his drink, compared to how Comet was handling things.

"I think you’re just special. And consider it a blessing; It’s made the shinies too nervous to even talk to you because they think Wolffe will end up hunting them down." Boost said. Looking to the right you notice Wolffe grabbing hold of his helmet, holding it in his right hand.

"Well, I’ll be expecting a crown then in the near future then, to finalize my title." Comet lets out a belly laugh, before he manages to quickly cut it off. Sinker shakes his head and finally decides to say what they've all been thinking, and seemingly Wolffe was as well.

"Go take your girl somewhere nicer that this, Commander. We don't get shore leave often."

Despite letting out a noise of disappointment you follow Wolffe when he pulls himself out of the booth, making sure to take a final swig of his drink. You follow close behind, down the steps and through the crowd of bodies out of the bar and into the street. There's people crowded around outside-mostly clones-either waiting to get in or waiting for taxis so they can leave. You notice the way most pedestrians avoid the area with a good berth, along with most of the area that was populated predominantly with clones.

Wolffe leans down to talk in your ear over the sound of booming music and loud voices, an arm now around your shoulder and gently tugging you close.

"Where do you want to go? We have the whole night now." Looking up at him his face is quite close; You can see the fraying of the scar over his bad eye and the stubble forming on his jaw.

"You choose. You're the one who's got a limited time on planet." His voice picks up volume again, a large crowd of rowdy people walking close by. It’s almost as loud out here as it was inside the bar, you notice as Wolffe speaks in your ear.

"You're the one who knows your way around Coruscant." Fair. Turning to start walking down the crowded sidewalk there’s plenty of people outside; Many of them clones happy to have a moment of free time.

Wolffe’s arm is still around your shoulders as you move down the street and far away from 79’s, now dedicated to having a night to just yourselves. It’s nice, even if the streets are lively to say the least; Filled to the brim with chatter and movement.

Especially when someone bursts by in a full sprint a small ways to your left, wearing mismatched clothing as they shove people aside to push through. You think they’re holding something but it’s hard to tell, especially when it all happens so fast. Barely seconds after they pass two guards are right on their tail, and manage to catch up to the -judging by what they were saying thief, in record time. It makes you wonder something as you watch the clones easily haul the person to their feet like it’s nothing.

You would assume Wolffe was that fast too, but you’d never really seen him in action in the way you often saw the Coruscant guard.

And honestly; You’ve always really, really wanted to.

Wolffe when he dons his full armor is already ceaselessly erotic, but the thought of seeing him move like that, act like that; Really get into the namesake that-

“You’re staring.”

Wolffe’s voice suddenly pops your bubble, realizing you’ve both stopped walking and he’s looking down at you. He glances up towards where the guards are cuffing the thief and hauling him away, before looking back at you.

“Oh, sorry. I got distracted.” He hums, and watches as you look over again to see the guards have left.

“Sometimes I forget all of you are really that strong…” Referring to the clones, Wolffe actually lets out a chuckle.

“You’d be surprised.”

Maybe you would; But it would be a wonderful surprise none the less.

“Would I?” The way Wolffe looks at you almost makes your heart stop, and even if he isn’t thinking the same things you are, he’s clearly thinking about something. You wouldn’t mind being the subject to whatever it is. You can’t stop the way your voice gets a little quieter however, as you speak up.

“Do you want to try to?”

Wolfe looks down at you with his eyebrows raised, as you pull away from the arm around your shoulders to look him head on.

“Seeing if you can catch me. Like they did.” It perks his interest, watching your eyes dart over his face. He steps closer and your chest is almost touching his when he speaks, audible even over the bustle around you.

“And what do I get when I do?” Your face squishes.

“When? Awfully presumptuous.” Wolffe seems amused by you, even as you attempt to scold him. He’s always been confident in his abilities, and it’s yet another thing that makes him so attractive. You remember the first time you’d seen him the way he wore his armor like a second skin, and how he’s always had that commander aura about him.

“You best be going then if you want to have a shot, lamb.”

You look at him with a smile possibly too giddy for what you’re doing, before quickly stepping away from him. Bolting into the crowd you throw a glance over your shoulder at him to see Wolffe putting his helmet on, wiggling it into proper place before you’re fully immersed in the sea of people and out of direct sight of him.

Wolffe is the best at what he does you know that for sure, but maybe it’s a bit of cockiness; You can’t help but think he’s not going to be able to catch you in a crowd this thick. The streets are always packed, but for some reason today it seems particularly bad, people almost shoulder to shoulder in some areas. Maybe there’s some sort of festival or party going on, but you don’t particularly care.

Casting a glance over your should you don’t see him, nor do you see any grey clone armor decorating the crowd. But the idea still sends a bit of a jolt down your spine; Knowing he’s still around here somewhere, looking for your silhouette in-between hundreds of strangers.

It’s kind of fucking hot, honestly.

But for the sake of your pride, you want to make damn sure he doesn’t catch you.

The smell of street food and the hot steam it creates wafts in your face as you run past stands and other little shops, trying to find your way. There’s got to be somewhere safe you can hide for a bit, at least until it’s been long enough that you can proudly declare yourself the winner of the silly game you’ve set up.

There’s a few people who give you a strange look as you rush by, but all in all most are used to this kind of chaos happening down here, and don’t pay you much mind unless you skirt extremely close. Then they’re probably more worried about what’s on your tail, than you yourself.

Rightfully so, as it was doubtful that many other people than yourself would want a clone commander like Wolffe hot on their tail, hunting them down.

You however are an obvious exception; As the feeling makes your heart beat in your chest, body feeling like it’s on fire as your cunt throbs.

You throw another glance over your shoulder to check, instantly spotting familiar grey painted armor pushing through the crowd. It puts a fire beneath your feet, accidentally almost shoving someone over as you move past. They might’ve yelled something at you if you’d cared enough to listen for it, but you’re already too far ahead.

You turn a corner and check again, not seeing him. He hadn’t even been running much to your surprise, though he still managed to gain on you incredibly fast. It seemed you’d need a bit quicker of a plan if you wanted to make sure you came out of this the victor.

Between a group of Twi’lek vendors you spot the entrance to a relatively wide alleyway, so you figure it’s your best bet to lose him. Bolting down it and trying to keep your head low you glance back and don’t see Wolffe, so you keep going taking two left turns before you’re suddenly cut short by a dead end.

There’s a few crates here stacked right in front of the fence, and it’s almost the perfect height for you to get over it with. You’re not sure whats on the other side other than more of the alleyway, but surely there’s somewhere to keep going. Long ago you lost your bearings on what was familiar, now just running around blind.

Climbing up onto the crates and grasping the fence you’re just about to place a foot on it and start climbing when suddenly there's a tight grip on your ankle, pulling you down and away. Looking back you see Wolffe’s white armor as he yanks your leg, him gaining ground as you attempt to pull away. Putting one foot on the crate he manages to lean forward enough that he grips your wrist with a hand, squeezing enough that he forces you to let go of the fence. He wrestles you around with ease until you’re standing back on solid ground again, your wrist still in his hand. He barely has time to speak before you do, faking being a sore loser.

“I lasted far longer than that other person, considering I barely even got a head start.” You figured saying something so cocky would get him to react; And it does, listening to the way his tone is sharp and scolding.

“I decided to stop letting you play around. Coming down here was a mistake, you ended up boxing yourself in.”

It takes one good push by him and you fall forward onto one of the storage boxes, legs almost dangling as you try to kick and move to free yourself. Wolffe is having none of it, and keeps you firm in place adjusting his grip and keeping one of your arms pinned down.

When you feel his hips press against the backs of your thighs it makes you completely freeze, eyes wide and looking forward in surprise. If you turn around you can see part of him, but his helmet makes it impossible to see his expression. His voice however fills in the gaps on what he’s thinking about, as if it wasn’t obvious now already.

“And what should the wolf do, now that he’s caught his little lamb?”

Instead of responding to him you attempt to wiggle off the crate to the side and get fully on your feet, but before you can, Wolffe easily shifts you back removing all your progress.

“You’re not going anywhere.”

The sentence sends a jolt down your spine, as you feel the hard material of his codpiece press against your groin. Wolffe knows exactly what he’s doing, his other hand grasping the bottom hem of your dress and yanking it upward, high enough that your entire ass and some of your back is exposed. The sudden cold air makes you almost yelp, if not for you trying to cut it off.

“I told you when I found you, and now I get to take my prize.”

You can still hear the rumbling of huge crowds not to far away, even in the dark corner of the alley.

But Wolffe knows, he just doesn’t care; Ignoring the risk of getting seen as he grips the top of your underwear like they’re nothing at all.

“Shit! Wolffe, be careful!” They don’t rip thankfully, but he yanks them down hard enough that you would’ve swore they had, now laying around your knees. It’s too hard to suppress the moan you let out as now his codpiece presses against your cunt with nothing in the way, thighs pressing together. He’s well past wanting to be careful now, listening to you gasp. Rubbing his armor against you he can feel the way it gets slick, the way your ass tenses at the feeling of the cold plastoid material against you. He can already see the way you’ve left it slick, coated with how aroused you already are.

“You’re going to stain my armor if you get any wetter.”

But he still presses harder against you, feeling the way you push back. He doesn’t give you much time to respond back at all, provided you even would’ve to begin with, as a gloved hand slips between both of you to rub against your cunt. The glove is soaked in moments, and Wolffe pulls away only to bit the tip of it with his hand and pull it off, before stuffing it in one one of his pockets.

Once he finishes doing so almost instantly his fingers press between your folds and slip inside of you, rough and buried deep past the knuckle before you have a chance to finish letting out a gasp.

Wolffe is often a little rough, not that you mind, but this time he seems like he wants you to scream out; To scream for him now that he’s caught you.

Scissoring inside of you his fingers stretch you and press against every bundle of nerves, the lewd sounds audible even over the general chaos of the city. He only dares to slow down when he needs to pull off the only impeding piece of armor; His codpiece falling off in seconds. He can feel that just the sound of him doing so makes your cunt tighten around his fingers. Wolffe loves it; The way you’re already wanting for his cock and he hasn’t even got it out yet.

But he’s not going to just give you what he knows you want now, pulling his fingers away and pressing his still covered cock against you. It’s just enough of a tease that your body tenses at the anticipation of what’s coming, waiting for the feeling of his body glove’s fabric getting peeled away.

And it does, though as he presses his now exposed cock against you he doesn’t slip inside of you, even if his hard cock twitches with the anticipation of it. When you attempt to wiggle backwards and press your ass harder against him he still doesn’t give in, and instead attempts to fix your illusion that you had sway in the matter by giving you one hard smack to your ass. It makes you yelp, the sting ringing for seconds after.

“Beg for it.”

You may not speak up instantly, but the way he just teases you; Barely pressing the tip of his cock inside of you before pulling it out, ends up making you give in.

“A-ah! Wolffe, please fuck me...” He waits a moment, still grinding against your cunt as he listens to the way you whine for him, no longer caring about trying to win the silly game you’d set up. Wolffe pushes the hem of your dress up even higher to wrap his hands around your waist, pulling you onto his cock and listening to the your skin slaps against his armor as he buries to the hilt. It’s so fast it makes your toes curl in your shoes, thighs tightening.

“Wolffe!”

The feeling has your teeth almost gritting as his hands hold tight around your waist, using it to pull you towards him and meet his hips. It’s hypnotic; Along with the way you’re moaning his name and wriggling in his grip, even more so when he uses one hand to grasp your ass and knead it roughly. He can spread you and watch the way his cock slides in and out of you, coated with your juices so much so the tops of your inner thighs are also slick.

“Love the way your ass bounces on my cock, little lamb.”

Wolffe can feel the way his hot breath gets trapped partly in his helmet, flush against his skin as he thrusts deeper and deeper into you. The small part of his body glove that’s exposed now is more than likely at least slightly stained with drips from your leaking cunt, as he feels the way your muscles tighten around him.

Your body shakes and your clothes twist and turn around you, knees still trapped together by your panties. The shoddy storage container underneath you creaks and skids forward banging against the fence it’s in front of enough that the metal shakes, each brutal thrust of his hips cutting off your moans.

“Was this your goal the whole time? To get me to throw you around and fuck you senseless?”

You’re going to be more than sore after this with the way he’s treating you; No matter how delicious it feels you know his hands are leaving scratches and bruises on your skin.

You’d honestly be lucky if you were able to sit down tomorrow.

“Fuck, Wolffe; I, I just wanted to see how fast you really were.”

Leaning down his chest is almost pressed against your back now as he suddenly grips the side of your throat, cutting you off. It’s not enough to make you choke, but hard enough that your words catch in your throat and your face feels even hotter.

Wolffe grinds down against you, feeling each little movement your body makes. It makes your stomach tighten and jump in knots, thighs desperately pressing together. You feel like you’re about to pop, so close as his helmet bumps the side of your face.

“Then you shouldn’t have ran around in this tiny little skirt you got in my battalion's colors. It’s like you were just begging to be eaten up, my little wolf queen.”

You don’t admit it, but you he’s right. You did want him to catch you, more than anything.

You can’t cover up the loud moan that you let out as you cum around him, muscles spasming as he barely slows down, and continues to fuck you through it all. It’s almost too much; Feeling his cock hit the most sensitive spots inside of you as he drills you almost into the crate itself.

Grasping the edge your feet can barely touch the ground, shoes scraping for any kind of purchase. But even after you’ve came and are panting heart beating in your chest Wolffe keeps going; Holding your hips with a vice grip.

He’s quite clearly not done with you, if his still brutal pace has anything to go by.

“W-Wolffe, holy-”

His hands pulling your hips to his so roughly it cuts you off, Wolffe pants so hotly in his helmet it almost begins to fog. It’s hot and stuffy, his whole body feeling like fire underneath his armor.

It only gets hotter as he hears the little squeals you let out, rendered a mess. You’re almost overstimulated and sore and about to cum again as he chases his own, throwing his helmet off.

Even with your hand partly over your mouth you can’t exactly contain the way he manages to pull some of the loudest moans out of you. A fistful of your hair in his hand he grips it tight, listening to you gasp and tilt your head to relieve some of the tension. By doing so it exposes a good part of your neck for him, and he can easily lean close to it.

“You want my teeth on you?” He knows the answer, be he still relishes in hearing it anyways.

“Yes yes yes, Wolffe please-” You feel his lips against the crook of your neck, before they part and he presses his teeth into your skin. It’s not enough to make you bleed, but he’s surely leaving marks as you cry out. You love the way it feels, and he loves the away it leaves such an obvious mark on your skin you always have to try and cover. Sometimes you don’t, and it never fails to make him hard when he realizes.

The front of your dress scrapes against the crate and surely is getting wrinkled and stained, while Wolffe’s armor scrapes against the backs of your thighs. Pulling your body close to him with an uneven pace you can hear him groan while he bites part of your shoulder, shortly before his body presses hard against yours. Finishing inside you it almost feels like his hands are going to leave bruises on you, the way he’s gripping so hard. It probably wasn’t even that strong to him, given his significant strength. He fills you to the brim, listening to him groan.

With your body tired and used there isn’t much you can do but whine, feeling cum drip down between your thighs as he slowly pulls himself from you. His hands stay hovering just around your hips, unbeknownst to you as he admires your state. The skirt of your dress falls back down moments later once you try and slide off the crate and fully standing, giving you at least some sense of a put together look.

Though anybody wouldn’t have to look very hard at your face and the way your were walking to guess what had happened anyways.

“I, I think maybe we should just head back to my apartment instead of going anywhere else.”

Your legs felt like they could barely hold yourself up at first, but even when you managed to get some movement back, it still felt like you were walking through a swamp with how hard it was to get them to listen.

Wolffe seems pleased by what he’s done to you, and even more pleased by the notion you’d accidentally implied in going back home. He grabs his helmet that he’d thrown aside in the fit of the moment and holds it in the crook of his elbow, watching you intently.

“Lead the way then, little lamb.”

Its the next day when you’re back on the clone base with the 104th, and Sinker finally manages to find a moment between important conversations to speak up. You’re all crowded around a holotable you’re trying to get working, before another troop of clones arrives to get briefed with the 104st. Given there’s no one in the room that will reprimand them apart from Wolffe, the room is much more casual than it will be soon.

“How’d it go after you guys left?” Referring to the ‘date’ that Wolffe was supposed to take you on after leaving 79’s. The sudden question certainly makes you jump, especially considering you were still sore from the throttling Wolffe had given you last night.

“Ok, we had a good time. Ate some street food.” The way you say it with a slightly shaky and almost nervous voice makes the other Wolfpack boys a little confused, but they don’t exactly have enough details to comment.

“You didn’t haul her off to another bar and get trashed, did you sir?” Comet attempts to use proper titles but still has that teasing tone, even through his helmet.

Before Wolffe responds to him he catches you looking at him -more like glaring- trying to beg him not to say anything embarrassing.

“Cut it out, Comet.” You let out a small sigh of relief. Boost elbows Comet in the ribs, laughing.

“Yeah, no trash talk in front of the Queen.” You groan, but can’t help the small smile.

“So that’s sticking now?” As the other three joke with each other you take a look at Wolffe, who was looking down at you.

Looking down on you like a piece of meat, that is.

You quickly turn away, and decide to make busy with something on the holotable while trying to forget the way he was still clearly staring. When his hand brushes against your neck you realize what he’s staring at, and you quickly move to adjust your top before anyone else notices.

This was going to be a rough day, that’s for sure.

#wolffe x reader #the clone wars x reader #reader insert #mywriting #reader #wolffe/reader #Commander Wolffe

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