This Was So Beautiful 🥹🥹💕💕

This was so beautiful 🥹🥹💕💕

Fondness

Pairings: Clone Trooper Veteran Tai (from Kenobi) x f!Reader

Warnings: Tai has PTSD flashbacks, mutual pining, awkward tension

Notes: I think this chapter will be a much better one just because I finally watched TCW. Shout out to Rex, who got way more mentions than I had planned but that's okay because I love him.

In all his years, after all the shit he's been through, he never imagined anything quite like this. He never imagined kindness quite like this. But then again, Tai had never met anyone like you before either. This realization doesn't keep his head from spinning, though, because now he's in your space, standing awkwardly in the entrance to the shithole you and a hundred other people call home. White walls stained beige with age, a floor that creaks every time you shift or step, windows that allow a disheartening view of the neighboring building and little else. It's crummy and probably falling apart, but it's better than anything he's had in at least seven years. He's not complaining.

"Sorry for the mess," you say a little shyly as you start bustling about the place, picking up trash and discarded clothes and wholly avoiding his eyes. "I don't really have people over."

Better than the dumpster I've been sleeping under, he wants to say. But that would be rude. And he knows you're trying to be polite, trying to put your best foot forward, and he appreciates it. And you. Definitely you.

"I don't have an extra room or a bed or anything, but I have a couch. And lots of blankets and pillows." You're going through a cupboard in the hall now. "I can turn the air on. Or the heat. I dunno what you prefer, but we can make it work." And something grabs Tai by the heart and refuses to let go because there's that 'we' again. The one that makes his chest feel tight. "Whatever you need to be comfortable."

He blinks and you're standing in front of him, eyes big and wide and shining in the sliver of light coming over his shoulder from the window. The two of you are caught for a moment in the gentle electricity humming between you. It's cautious and unsure, a little reserved and a little exciting, like you shouldn't be opening up your home to him and he shouldn't have accepted, like he shouldn't even be here. It registers vaguely in the back of the head that he's probably right. You don't know him, not really, and he doesn't really know you, no matter how much he pretends he does. And he's old enough now to be finding gray in his beard and at his temples. So what the hell is he doing here, what is he doing with you, the sweetest thing he's ever encountered? He feels like a creep.

But all of that passes when you smile. It wipes his mind clean. You turn to drop the sheets on the arm of the sofa, start unfolding them and throwing them over the cushions.

"I can-"

"I got it," you counter before he can even stop you. "I don't mind. You can make yourself at home, Tai. Get a drink, take a shower, whatever you want."

It takes him more breaths than he'd care to admit for his brain to catch up to his ears and his heart. He's so kriffing nervous here, taking up precious space in your home, tracking the grime of the city into your floor, and he knows that this is a gift that can be taken back. He's earned this privilege and he can lose it in a blink. So he decides to let you do this for him, just this once, if only to give himself some space and time to clear his head.

The bathroom is fucking tiny. The walls are crowding in on him before he even closes the door. The mirror is dirty with water spatters and steam streaks, the counter a little dusty in the corners, but you're everywhere in here - from the vase and fake flowers to the spread of cutely labeled products and the carpeted mat under his feet. Which reminds him to take his shoes off, which then prompts him to shuck off his armor and let his body breathe.

The man staring back at him in the mirror is both familiar and a stranger. He remembers that jawline looking sharper at one point, his skin smoother and firmer, but he also remembers the day he got the scar on his chin. He remembers the last day he saw Rex, remembers a string of images that make him want to pluck his eyes out just to quiet the way padawan blood screamed at him from the ground, remembers the day the Empire replaced him with a faceless, unfeeling Stormtrooper, remembers the first time he held out his helmet and begged for scraps. And before he even realizes it, he's stepping into the shower and basking in the shivering cold of the water. Maybe it'll wash away the black marks on his soul he's earned over the years. He can hope, at least.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

Tai feels more levelheaded when he gets out of the shower. He doesn't look at the mirror. He does, however, notice a slip of paper half stuck to the floor with the residual steam and his heart does a weird little flip when he reads it. There is indeed a stack of clothes and a crate for his armor just outside the door. He can tell with just a look that the sweatpants won't fit him, but the shirt, a striped and faded mess of cotton wearing thin at the bottom seam, fits well enough and he makes a point of not noticing how it smells like you.

The sofa is made up like a bed in a palace, or as close as you can manage. The sheets are threadbare but soft, lightly scented with citrus, and he swears there's half a dozen pillows piled up in the corner. You've left out a glass of water and lit a candle, too.

He doesn't let himself cry until he double checks that you are in your room with your door closed. How has he deserved this? He's fallen so far. He was once a proud soldier of the Republic. Now the Republic is dead and so are most of his brothers. He doesn't even know if there are any left. What would they say if they could see him now, living on the streets of an empty, soulless planet, huddled in some civilian's apartment like a rat? It's embarrassing, shameful. Rex would have his head for this, surely- except... Except he knows that's not quite true. He knows that Rex, soldier though he was, would never have judged him. Rex would have tried to help him.

He looks down the hallway where a sliver of light shines out from beneath your door and he almost dares to smile. Rex would have liked you, he thinks.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

One night turns into two. You're not used to having anyone in your space quite like this, certainly not a man, so it's awkward. You keep having to remind yourself not to leave your more feminine products out in the open where it might startle him. And even though you have no reason to believe Tai would ever be in your room, you make sure to hide your personal effects in there too. Just in case. Best not to give him the wrong idea. But it's okay, it works, the two of you.

Two nights turn into a week. Tai's efforts to leave the following morning are growing weaker every day and your requests for him to stay become more and more persuasive. You know it would be best for him to go, more logical, safer even. But you feel safer having him around.

And maybe, just maybe some selfish part of you wishes he would never have to leave. You choose not to delve into the reason why.

A week becomes a month and you come home from work one evening to find Tai passed out on the sofa, snoring away as usual. It sucks that your schedules are so opposite with him heading off to work right after you get home, but sometimes it's not so bad. Sometimes you come home early and you get to see him like this. The stress and age and trauma doesn't weigh so heavily on his face when he sleeps.

You're grabbing a drink when you notice the pile of credits dropped onto the kitchen counter. It's not very much, but it's also not yours. Your eyes flicker in Tai's direction. Is this his monthly pay? Being a janitor in a dankhole like this place ought to pay more. He also needs a better place to put his money than on the counter, he'll end up losing some that way. You briefly wonder if he needs a wallet and if maybe you should get him one before you snap yourself out of it.

He's a grown man, you tell yourself, he can get his own damn wallet. You're not his mother. And if you'd been caught saying that out loud you might have sounded furious, but the only anger you can feel is directed solely at yourself. Because you're letting yourself fall too deep and too fast for a man who is still a stranger in many ways.

You shake your head and take your things with you into your room, careful to close the door as quietly as you can manage. You don't want to wake him, but you also don't want to face him. Not now. Not with the too many thoughts buzzing around in your brain. Not when you're realizing just how much you think you might love him.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

" 's for you, y'know," he gruffs the following afternoon.

You look up from the stove, over your shoulder, and frown. "Huh?"

He nods his head at the pile of credits that still haven't moved. "For rent."

The galaxy spins around you for a moment. He took money out of his probably terribly paying job to help you with rent? Seriously?

You stumble over your own mouth while your brain plays catch up. "Tai... You didn't have to do that."

He shrugs and doesn't look at you. "Figured I used enough hot water to warrant a bill."

His smile is faint, but you can still see the outline of it. You wish he'd smile more. He looks so pretty when he smiles. And then you wonder what he thinks of your smile, if he even thinks of it at all. Does Tai think of you the way you think of him?

"Saw an apartment opening up downtown." His voice slices through your thoughts violently enough to completely shatter them. Your entire body feels like it's been dunked in ice water. "Thought I might have a look."

He wants to leave? Ice cold panic grips you by the base of your spine as you start cataloging through the last few days, trying to find any moment, any second glance that he could have interpreted wrongly. Because why else would he want to leave when you've tried so hard to make your home welcoming to him?

"Don't want to overstay my welcome."

And your anxiety calms a hair. Okay, so maybe you were jumping to conclusions for a second there.

You rest your hip against the cupboard. "You could never. You haven't." You glance back at your food as if it'll protect you from your own heart. "You can... You can stay here as long as you want to, Tai. Or as short as you want. Whatever you want. But you'll never wear out your welcome."

Well, that's about as close to a confession as you can safely get. Not that you were trying to confess anything, not that you have anything to confess. Even though you know that's a kriffing lie.

The kitchen goes stale with your shared silence. The wheels in Tai's head are turning so fiercely that you can hear them working. You're sure he can hear your heartbeat by now. Thank the Maker he can't hear your thoughts. And then-

"There's a bar by the market. I think it's called Spice. Have you ever been?"

You blink through your confusion. "I don't think so."

You blink again and suddenly Tai is standing, coming around to your side of the kitchen until he's all you can see. There's that blaster shot right through your chest again because he's closer now than he's been the past month. He smells faintly like your shampoo and his own natural musk and dank farrik, that's just not fair.

"Come with me tonight? Do you have work?"

"No. Yes. I mean-." You're so breathless, you can't get your words out in the right order. You laugh and have to turn your head to avoid the intensity of his gaze in order to focus. "I mean, no, I don't have work, yes, I'd love to go with you."

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

It's strange to be handing over credits in exchange for liquor. The GAR never paid their troopers and neither did the Empire, so the only alcohol he ever got his hands on was the free crap 79's handed out. Not that this place offers anything better, but this time he can actually pay for it with credits he's earned himself. And he can buy some for you, too.

The speakers are playing some upbeat, young person tune he's never heard before and the lights are flashing 50 different shades of neon across your face. It hurts his eyes a little and it's another reminder that he's not the young clone he once was and this isn't 79's. He's not on Coruscant anymore, Fives isn't chatting up some attractive civvy just around the corner, Jesse and Tup aren't hurling their guts out in the bathroom, Rex isn't nursing a drink in a corner booth. It's just him. In a dive bar on Daiyu. He's a janitor. He's homeless. And you're here with him, brightening up the space around you with just a smile and that tipsy twinkle in your eyes. It hurts, but it's manageable. Entirely because of you.

You down your third drink of the night with a giggle and a burp, turning on your bar stool so you're facing him properly with your knees splayed. They frame his legs just right. Tai pretends this one simple movement doesn't light a raging fire in the pit of his stomach. He tells himself it's the alcohol sending heat through his veins. Definitely not because you're fluttering your eyelashes at him. Because he's not the young man he used to be. He's a dirty old man. He's lucky just to be allowed to bask in your presence. He's lucky you haven't figured out he has it bad for you and that you haven't kicked him out as a result. You're just drunk, he tells himself. He's drunk too. That's all it is.

That's all it is until it's suddenly so much more. "Come on!" you exclaim with a smile that could hang the stars in the sky. You're tugging him out onto the dance floor, you're holding his hands, you're kriffing touching him like it's the most normal thing you could be doing. And Maker, he'd go anywhere you asked, do anything you wanted if you looked at him like that. "Dance with me!" you shout over the music, shuffling yourself even closer to make sure he can hear you.

He's shaking his head like an idiot, arms withdrawn and poised mid-air. "No, I can't-"

"Dance with me, Tai." You look up at him through your lashes and smile a smile he doesn't think he's ever seen on you. "I want to dance with you."

He swallows. Hard. "You're drunk."

"So?"

"So." Quick, trooper, think of something! "You wouldn't be asking me if you were sober."

"That's just 'cause I'm shy," you laugh and your hand runs up his arm to his shoulder. A shudder runs through him at your touch. "I wouldn't ask you if I was sober, but I'd still want to. So dance with me."

Your hand presses against his cheek right where his scruff is growing in and his eyes slip shut for the briefest of moments. He's not at 79's, he's not young anymore, but for this one moment he can pretend that doesn't matter. He can pretend that this night is everything he wants it to be. So he takes you in his arms like he's the confident young trooper he was so many years ago and he dances with you to music he's never heard before. And he lets himself love you, even if just for the night.

Locked Doors

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader Word Count: 2.7K Rating: Explicit (18+ Only) Summary: You and Wolffe get caught, but Wolffe doesn't want you to be quiet. A/N: A one-shot based off of this earlier post. More light-hearted than my usual as I try to expand my horizons LOL

“Did you hear that?”

You reach your hand back to cover Wolffe’s on your hip, pausing his thrusts, and try to bite back a whimper at the sudden lack of friction.

Behind you, Wolffe growls, deep in his chest, and you swear you can feel the vibrations all the way down to your pussy.

“I didn’t hear anything,” he bites out.

By the sound of his voice, you know that if you look at him now, you’ll see a scowl across his too handsome face — eyebrows scrunched, lips pressed together in a thin line. Maybe even an eye roll added in for fun.

But you keep your eyes trained on the door to his barracks office because you know you heard something. The shuffle of feet, a silent-to-everyone-but-a-Jedi cough.

“Wolffe, I— oh, fuck!”

He interrupts you with a swivel of his hips and you don’t have time to cover your mouth or bite your lip, which you really should have done because there is definitely someone outside that door right now.

You grip the edge of the desk Wolffe has you bent over and shoot a glare back at him. He smirks, the crinkles at the corners of his eyes deepening when three distinct knocks echo through the room.

You feel your eyes widen at the same time Wolffe tightens his hold on your hair and pulls you flush against his chest. The change in position has his cock moving roughly against the walls of your cunt and you have to force down another moan.

“What the fuck, Wolffe?” you pant as he lets go of your hair and trails his hand along the edges of your neck and shoulder.

“The door’s locked, mesh’la,” he whispers into your ear, his breath soaking into your skin and adding to your already ramped up desire. “Whoever’s out there can stay there. You can stay right here. And I can answer his questions just,” he pulls out of you almost completely.

“Like,” he circles a nipple with a thumb while his other hand squeezes your hip.

“This,” he slams back into you and you cover your mouth, trying to muffle a shout at the feel of every inch of his cock so deep in you so quickly.

Wolffe doesn’t give you time to recover before the hand covering your breast moves up your body, fingers circling around your wrist and pulling your hand away from your mouth.

“None of this, though, love,” he presses a kiss into your shoulder. “You want to fuck in my barracks, we’re gonna fuck how I want to. And I want you loud.”

A shiver runs up your spine at his words; there’s tension and anxiety, but also something you hand’t really expected.

Excitement? Curiosity? Desire?

“Let him hear what I do to you.” Wolffe moves his mouth from your shoulder to your neck, nipping at a patch of skin and you close your eyes, still contemplating his proposition.

Your relationship with Wolffe isn’t exactly a secret among the 104th boys. It’s hard to keep anything secret from people you spend so much time around. Especially when you have a tendency to frequent a certain co-commander’s quarters on long war missions.

Aside from a few amused glances (mostly from Boost) or embarrassed smiles (usually from Comet), no one ever says anything, though. At least, not to you. You have no idea what they might say to Wolffe when you’re not around.

Still, as much as you trust the boys, you’ve never done anything like this. Never been loud when you knew for certain they would hear. Never let Wolffe take you knowing there was someone whose view of the two of you was only prevented by a few inches of durasteel. Never had your desire and your passion and your needs so publicly displayed — even if all anyone could do was listen.

You shiver again, a moan creeping up your throat at the realization that you do want this.

You want whoever’s on the other side of that door to know you’re in here. You want them to know that you and Wolffe work just as well together in the bedroom as you do on the field. You want them to know without a shadow of a doubt that you are Wolffe’s and he is yours

With his hand tracing lines down your neck, his breath insistent against your skin, you know that’s what Wolffe wants, too.

Decision made, you turn your head, leaning back slightly so you can catch Wolffe’s eyes. The normally golden hue in the one is blown dark brown, almost black, and you swear the faint electric blue in the other is somehow brighter.

“Give him something to listen to, then,” you say, voice slightly louder than a whisper, “Commander.”

Wolffe’s cock twitches at your words and you gasp, but it’s nothing compared to the near snarl that comes from his mouth as his lips crash into yours for a quick but breathless kiss.

When he pulls back, a smirk is once again in place. “Be careful what you ask for, mesh’la.”

He grabs your chin and turns you so you’re facing forward, facing the door, once more. He circles his hips, hand trailing down to your breasts just as another knock comes through.

“What is it, trooper?” Wolffe uses his tired, bored voice. The one that let’s everyone know he has better things to be doing. Or, in this case, better people.

As you gasp again against the jolt of pleasure from his cock rubbing along the edges of your cunt, you wonder how in the fucking hell he can manage to be so controlled.

Probably pure stubbornness.

As if he knows what you’re thinking, Wolffe flicks a thumb over a nipple and you hiss, almost missing the trooper’s response.

“The— The door’s locked, sir,” his voice is hesitant. Wary. And, based on the way Wolffe keeps moving inside you, the way he keeps flicking and massaging your breasts, if he doesn’t already know what’s going on, he will soon enough.

“I’m aware . . .” Wolffe pauses, pointedly waiting, you assume, for the trooper to give his name.

“Um, Catcher, sir.”

Wolffe pulls out of you halfway, thrusting back in and masking your moan with his next words.

“Right. I’m aware the door’s locked, Catcher,” he lets out a loud sigh and you roll your eyes even though you’re mid-whimper. Always so dramatic. “You can talk to me without seeing me, can’t you?”

“Ye— yes, sir,” Catcher says immediately.

The urgency and panic in his voice is so out of place in this situation and your shoulders shake on a silent laugh. You cover your mouth, only realizing what you’ve done when a sharp smack sounds through the room and a jolt of pleasure tinged with pain courses from your breast straight to your throbbing pussy.

“Wolffe!” you hiss.

Catcher continues talking but you ignore him to lean back and glare at the man behind you. He smirks down at you, not the least bit contrite, fingers soothing the reddening mark on your breast.

“I told you,” he says, making no attempt to lower his voice, “no covering up that pretty mouth of yours.”

You open said mouth, about to say something to show him just how pretty it can be, when:

“Uh, Sir?” Catcher hesitates, “I didn’t catch that.”

Wolffe rolls his eye. “I said get on with it, kid.”

“Could say the same to you, Commander,” you grumble.

Peering back down at you, he narrows his eyes, hand moving across your chest to trap you firmly against him. With your arms now pinned under his at the elbows, there’s no way for your hands to reach your mouth, even on accident.

“I told you to be careful what you ask for.” His voice is back to a whisper, words meant just for you.

Deciding that if you’re in this deep already, you might as well enjoy it, you grin and say, louder, “Oh, I know exactly what I’m asking for.”

Catcher’s voice stops and you have just enough time to hear him clearing his throat alongside Wolffe saying “that’s my girl” before you’re being fucked out of your mind. Every sensation is made better by the knowledge that you’re not alone.

Someone can hear you. Can hear Wolffe pounding into you. Can hear you chanting his name between moans loud enough they can probably reach outside the entire fucking barrack, let alone just outside this room.

You cling to the only thing your hands can reach — Wolffe’s arm — and try to focus on the door, try to listen and see if Catcher is saying anything else, but you can’t.

The force of Wolffe’s thrusts — all the way out, all the way back in, hitting the exact right places over and over and over — are too much and still not enough.

“More,” you moan, your decision to no longer care who hears you leaving you uninhibited, especially when the sound of skin slapping against skin is so loud, “Wolffe, I need more.”

He lowers the arm clutched across your chest, still keeping yours pinned to the sides but making it so he’s holding you across your waist instead, and brings his other hand up to your mouth.

“Lick it,” he rasps, voice finally giving away how close he must be, too.

You do as he says, tongue swiping up and down his fingers, sucking on them when he gently pushes between your lips. You close your eyes, humming around the thick, rough length of them and wishing you’d had time earlier to suck on his cock instead. When Wolffe groans into your neck, his cock jumping inside you as he stutters on a thrust, you know he’s thinking the same.

You release his fingers from your mouth and he immediately pushes his hand down to your cunt, instincts and muscle memory helping him find your clit straight away. He circles the bundle of nerves, pulling yet another moan out of you in the process.

Wolffe moves his fingers at a pace that matches his thrusts, which are becoming quicker and shallower, the noises between you echoing louder and louder in the small room.

The combination of his cock and his fingers has you close. So, so close. Your fingernails dig into his forearm and you lean your head back, neck exposed, trusting that Wolffe will know the last thing you need to get you all the way there.

And as always, Wolffe never disappoints.

“Want my teeth on you, mesh’la?” he grunts, thrusts reaching a speed you didn’t even think was possible. “That what you need, dirty fucking girl?”

He slams into you and you whine up at the ceiling. Of course he’d want to play with you now.

“Wolffe, please,” your moan is more of a sob and you can feel him smirk into your neck, the bastard.

“Don’t worry,” he licks a circle into your skin, “I’ll take care of you.”

And then he bites you.

His teeth sink into the space between your neck and shoulder just hard enough to leave an outline of his mouth without drawing blood. Just enough to leave his mark where others can’t see.

The slight twinge of pain is immediately overwhelmed by a wave of white-hot pleasure that shoots down your entire body, flooding your pussy and making you cry out.

“Wolffe, fuck!” you shout as you clinch around his cock and rub against his fingers to ride out the wave of an orgasm so intense you can barely fucking see.

Lips still firmly pressed into your skin, Wolffe growls, deep and primal, and, with a final, forceful thrust that nearly sends you back to the edge, he releases inside you. Closing your eyes, you squeeze around him again, soaking in the feeling of being so full.

The room is quiet apart from your shared panting. As you come down from your high, you rub circles into Wolffe’s arm, soothing over the crescent-shaped marks left by your nails. After a moment, he raises his head from your shoulder and looks down at you, golden eye soft the way it always is, after.

Once again, you open your mouth to say something — this time something romantic, something sweet. The kind of words Anakin is always embarrassing himself with by saying to Senator Amidala.

“I-”

“Wolffe! Are you done in there yet?”

Wolffe jerks his head up to the door, no doubt wondering why a shiny would be so bold as to call him by his name and not his rank. But you know this voice almost immediately, and grimace as Sinker continues.

“We’re all real happy for you, brother, but some of us value our sleep, you know.”

Finally realizing who the voice belongs to, Wolffe’s scowl turns into a self-satisfied smirk. You shake your head, not relishing whatever’s about to come out of his mouth next.

“Keep complaining, Sergeant,” he yells across the room. “I can keep this going all night if I have to.”

He looks down at you as he says the last past and you swallow hard. As if to prove his point, his cock, still inside you, twitches with renewed interest. It brushes just enough against your sensitive walls that you can’t help the moan that slips out.

“I’d listen to him, if I were you, boys,” you say, a bit breathless, and all the noises outside the door cease.

You and Wolffe stare at each other, eyebrows raised. After a moment of silence, Sinker clears his throat. “Just . . . try not to traumatize any more of the shinnies, yeah?”

You hear his footsteps echo down the hall, away from the room. Wolffe chuckles, kissing your cheek. You shake your head once more, but a smile tugs at your lips.

“We cannot do that again.”

Wolffe shrugs, removing his arm from across your waist and finally pulling out, rubbing a hand across your back when you gasp at the emptiness. “You seemed to enjoy it. I know I enjoyed it. And who cares what the boys thought. It’s good for them to remember I’ve got some bite to my bark.”

You turn around to look at him, squeezing your thighs together in an attempt to keep as much of him inside you as possible. Leaning against the desk he had you bent over earlier, your eyes trace his body, from the top of his scar to his already hardening cock. You give up trying to hold back your smile and laugh, nodding down at his length.

“You really could go again right now, couldn’t you?”

He steps forward, your smile reflected on his face, and pushes a strand of hair behind your ear. “Only for you,” he says softly, not a hint of his earlier cockiness in his voice now.

You close your eyes and push your cheek into his palm, trying to steady the thrumming of your heart in your chest and through your veins.

Wolffe leans down, breath warm and intoxicating against your skin. “Let me make you scream my name again, love.”

Love. He’s called you that a lot tonight. It’s not new, he’s said it before. But your heart still clinches every time the word leaves his mouth.

Another shiver runs up your spine and you hum, tilting your head against his ear. There’s so much about Wolffe you love. So much you want to explore. So much you want him to do to you. So much you want to do to him.

You place a hand against his chest and push him, catching him off guard enough to allow you to force a switch in positions.

With him against the desk now, you open your eyes and keep your mouth at his ear, hand trailing from his chest to grip his cock.

“Let me make you scream my name.”

You feel him smile against your neck yet again and his next words rumble through your body, reaching you in all the places you know his hands will soon follow.

“Give it your best shot, mesh’la.”

And you do.

25 Days of Life Day: Day 25 - Life Day with the Bad Batch

Warnings: None, Flufffff! (Also, this is kind of a part two to the Day 7 Echo one!)

A/N: HAPPY LIFE DAY! MERRY CHRISTMAS! HAPPY HOLIDAYS! WHATEVER YOU CELEBRATE! Thank you so much to everyone who has participated/read/liked/reblogged/interacted with these prompts and fics. You guys are the best and I'm so grateful to all of you! I'm so glad we got to do this year! Already looking forward to next year!!! ❤️💚🎄💚❤️

25 Days of Life Day Masterlist

25 Days Of Life Day: Day 25 - Life Day With The Bad Batch

You’ve spent all year, saving every penny, doing odd jobs and such to make sure that The Batch would have a great Life Day. Especially Omega. Since you've joined the Batch, you’ve become a motherly, or big sisterly type to the girl. Everything you do anymore, is for her. To give her a good life. She deserves the best.

Sometimes, that can be hard, being on the go at all times.

“IT’S LIFE DAY EVERYONE! WAKE UP! HUNTER LOOK!” Omega’s excited voice wakes everyone up.

You sit up in your bed, rubbing your eyes, already smiling to yourself as you watch Omega run back and forth between everyone’s rooms to wake them up. You leave your room to go into the kitchen to pour yourself a cup of caf that Omega had been incredibly smart to make. You love that kid.

Walking into the living area, you sit down on the couch as Omega plops down next to you, slinging her arms around your neck as you take a sip of caf.

“You’re the best! Thank you!” She rests her cheek on your shoulder, grinning widely at the presents underneath the tree. “Hey, now. They’re not all for you.” You chuckle.

Echo comes and sits down on your other side, resting his arm around you as you rest your head on his shoulder.

“Don’t fall back asleep!” Omega playfully shakes you.

“Grab the rest of your brothers then, please.” You laugh.

“Hunter! Tech! Wrecker!” Omega goes back through the hallway to go wake up the guys.

You smile at Echo. “Good morning.”

“Good morning.” He kisses you on the head. “She has no idea does she?”

“None.” You grin.

You’d been working on Omega’s gift behind her back for the last couple months and you were excited to finally give it to her. In fact, you were excited to give all of them their gifts.

“Do you want breakfast?” Hunter comes in and sits down where Omega was seated before.

“After she opens gifts. She may combust if we don’t let her soon.” You laugh.

Omega was absolutely vibrating with excitement. Finally, Wrecker and Tech come out, still in their pajamas just like the rest of you. Tech sits in the chair by the side of the couch that Echo is sitting on and Wrecker the other.

“Now?” Omega gives you wide, pleading eyes.

“Now.” You smile, leaning into Echo a little more.

He squeezes your shoulder as she goes for your gift first, immediately ripping open the nicely wrapped package that you had put together. When she sees the large red crocheted blanket with a giant skull in the middle, she squeals with delight, coming and hugging you.

“I love it, thank you!” She puts it around herself as she goes back to the tree.

Next, she opens up Hunter and Wrecker’s gift that they’d been working on all week. It’s the rest of the batch set to go with her clone trooper doll. How sweet.

She pulls out Echo’s next. Her own tool set to help him and Tech with repairs if she wants. He knows how much she loves tinkering. You grin at Echo, excited that she seems to love the gift, knowing it makes him happy as well. She gets up to wrap her arms around him.

Last is Tech’s gift. You’d been curious as to what he got her or made for her. He didn’t let anyone know what it was before. She goes to open it and everyone watches curiously.

She looks up at Tech with big eyes. “My own holopad?”

You all look at Tech. He’s smiling, softly.

“As long as you take care of it, yes.” He nods.

She gets up and gives him a hug, wrapping his arms around her.

The guys all open their gifts from you next. Tech; new tools. Wrecker; The biggest box of snacks ever. Hunter; A new knife. And Echo… you know he’s happy with anything. But, you had contacted Rex and asked for that photo of Echo, Fives, Cody, and Rex so you could make a physical copy of it. You know that Echo really misses Fives a lot, so you wanted to do something meaningful.

Echo thanks you by kissing you, resting his forehead against yours. “How’d I get so lucky?”

“This one's for you.” Omega excitedly hands you a small box and you look around at all the guys. “From all of us.”

They’re all smiling or grinning. You weren’t expecting anything at all, so you can’t help but stare down at the box, speechless.

“Open it, cyare.” Echo murmurs, kissing your shoulder.

“You guys-” You start.

“Just open it.” Hunter laughs.

You open the box and find a new reader. And underneath it is a photo in a nice frame of you and the entire Batch.

“Now, you can read all your books anywhere we go!” Omega rests her head on your knee.

You run your fingers through her hair. “Thank you. From the bottom of my heart. I love you guys so much.”

“And we love you.” Echo tells you. “But especially me.”

You laugh as Wrecker starts to eat his snacks, which Hunter tells him he’s about to make breakfast and to put the snacks away.

“Happy Life Day!” Omega tells you, taking Hunter’s spot which was hers first.

“Happy Life Day!” You grin, looking at your family with the most love and adoration.

This would be a Life Day to remember for sure.

TAGS: @grievouus @brynhildrmimi @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @misogirl828 @rexandechosandwich @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @twistedstitcher27 @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @crosshairmylove587 @idlenesses @redheadgirl

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latinachiquita

2 years ago

NO WASTELANDS

Rating: Explicit 18+

Pairing: Boba Fett x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 1.2k

Summary: boba fett rails you on the balcony but it’s all poetic and romantic

Warnings: balcony sex, slight exhibitionism, light choking, penetrative sex (p in v), praise kink, established relationship, grandiose proclamations of love, porn without plot

A/N: i can’t pick a favorite part of the trailer but that little bit of the balcony had me feeling things and thinking things. my only regret is not getting this out yesterday. this is dedicated to the wonderful @ashotofspotchka for crying with me yesterday and letting me bounce ideas off your big brain!

{masterlist} {cross-posted on ao3}

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521 notes View Post

latinachiquita

2 years ago

This is too good 🥹

The Beat of the Night

Rating: 18+ Minors do NOT read

Pairing: TBB Echo x fem!reader

Wordcount: 1,9k

Warnings: Fluff and smut, fingering and implied sexual actions in (semi) public, bithday sex... tell me if I forgot something

A/N: This is a birthday present for my dear @clone-whore-99 Patch, I'm so happy I could get you with my Echo stories.... so here's one especially for you. One day late, but I hope you still enjoy. I love you 💋

The music is loud. And the beat’s pounding in your ears as you sit at the bar, sipping your drink. You take in the chaotic atmosphere of the infamous clone bar 79s. The laughter of clone troopers and civilians, drinking and dancing, the diffused light, the smell and the buzzing energy surrounds and fascinates you. You haven’t decided yet if you like it or not. Stars, it’s your first visit ever on Coruscant, and you ended up here, dressed up in a red low cut top and a short black skirt. Something so fancy and seductive you never thought you would ever wear. The smooth fabric just hides enough of your shape to leave enough room for imagination running wild. The imagination of your lover, sitting at the barstool next to you. His honey eyes shamelessly rove over your body, captivated by every curve hidden from his hungry gaze. You never saw him that bold before. You can almost feel him watching you…

Leaning over to you, so you can hear him over the music, Echo whispers next to your ear: “I know it’s your birthday, cyare, but dressed up like this, you look like you’re a present for me.”

You really are the most beautiful being he ever saw, from your kind nature and your soft smile, from head to toes. You are the gift he never thought he would deserve and yet from the moment the two of you met, it was only a matter of when and never of if until you became a couple. He sometimes still wonders how it happened, but then again, who is he to question the twists of the Force.

He was the one who suggested celebrating your birthday on Coruscant. Here at this very place where he spent so many wild nights among his brothers, keeping an eye on Fives and, well, sometimes ended up in a bed much warmer and more comfortable than the bunks at the base. He was used to this place like a second home but lost this feeling long ago with the majority of his humanity. And as for you… you told him you've never been at a place like this, never wore something other than your medical uniform or casual clothes, functional and not sexy at all.

He was the one who forced the both of you to leave your comfort zones and gave you the clothes you are wearing as a birthday present.

But it is you who make him feel like his former self, the confident ARC-trooper of the 501st and not the cyborg, percent wise more machine than man, stricken by self-consciousness and the question what would have been if he hadn't almost died at the citadel. You make him better.

And he is glad that he has given in to his desires, to finally overcome his doubts and share this special day, this special experience, with you, because he isn’t confused any longer. For so long he was hopeless and only a shadow of himself, but Echo now knows at least part of what he's worth and what wants... and he wants you! Now!

"Come on, let's dance," he suddenly says with a smirk and grabs your hand, dragging you from your seat and into the crowd.

Suddenly nervous, you follow him out to the dance floor and let him take the lead. So many people around you, too many for your liking, but you soon realize they are all busy with their own affairs, and nobody is taking note of you. You relax a little. And as soon as he pulls you close, with his scomp link on your lower back, his firm chest gently pressed against yours and his left hand on your waist, you completely forget about any other soul around. All that matters is him, his closeness and the way his body moves with yours to the music. You’ve never been happier.

The first few songs are quite fast and Echo enjoys the music, his feet easily following the beat. Guiding your steps, he swirls you around, sways his hips against yours and does everything he can to give you wings for this precious night. He wouldn’t have guessed that he’ll ever be dancing again after his legs have been taken from him. Kriffing hell, it’s been so long since the last time he's done this but it still feels... natural... and even more so since he's dancing with you. The smile on your face tells him that you enjoy this dance just as much. Your usual reticence has vanished and that, he thinks, might be the best birthday gift of all.Tomorrow will come soon enough with new commitments and perils, but tonight… the two of you is all that matters.

Eventually the DJ puts on something with a slow beat, and you snuggle up close to him.

The two of you…

Slowly, Echo leans forward, closes that last gap between you and meets your lips with his own. The kiss is sweet and tentative. A silent plea and a wordless invitation for more… Maybe it is just because of the drinks you already had, or it is because he kindles that kind of heat inside you that’s rushing down your spine and leaves you craving for his touch, you curl more into him anyway. Your tongue is sneaking into your lover’s warm mouth and teasing his tongue with gentle strokes, while you ever so slightly rub yourself against the hard plastoid cuisse on his thigh.

A familiar warmth flares through him, pooling in his groins, his compression pants grow tighter, and Echo curses the confinements of his codpiece. Well, maybe it's better he's wearing his armor, for it’s the only real barrier left that keeps him from going as far as he wants to now. Not at all like your clothes, so floaty and soft… hiding a promise even softer… he needs to feel…

His grip on your waist loosens and slowly his hand sneaks down between your bodies pressed close against each other. When the tips of his fingers slide just beneath the smooth fabric hugging your hips, you gasp into the kiss, and he responds by breaking away from your mouth just long enough to bend his head and move his lips to the crook of your neck and nibble on the sensitive skin of your collarbone.

"Echo…" you mewl and he chuckles seductively at your needy sounds.

“You have to be quiet birthday girl if you don’t want to get caught,” Echo breathes. His words are clearly meant to tease you, but the cadence betrays his own desire.

Without wasting another second, his hand travels further down and cups your clad pubis. The warmth of his palm seeps through the silky fabric and when you hear him hiss, you realize that you’ve already soaked your panty by now.

“Fuck, you’re so wet.” Echo’s voice is dark and filled with lust as he eventually pushes your panty to the side and drags his fingers gingerly up and down your folds, slowly increasing the pressure to breach you open.

His touch is electrifying and addicting. He is constantly caressing your wet entrance without actually dipping inside, and your toes are curling in fervent anticipation. Everything he does to you, so confident and sweet all the same, sets you on edge. An edge you never want to back down from but tumble into the abyss behind. You can’t help but grind down on his hand to tempt him to finally give you more.

"So responsive, cyare…" he murmurs against your bare collarbone, his teeth cautiously biting into the thin strap of your top and dragging it to the curve of your shoulder… just one inch further and your top would slide down your skin, exposing your perked buds to his gaze.

And everyone’s else's too.

Stars, it’s hot. You’ve never felt so desired, so attractive and you eagerly rock your heated core against his hand to the rhythm of the music. You gasp in pleasure, as he finally eases one and then a second finger inside your wetness. When his thumb attaches to your clit, you bury your head in the crook of his neck to muffle your noises, giving yourself over to him completely.

He holds you close and upright, while he sways back and forth to the slow beat of music hanging in the air, but your legs quiver as Echo draws slow and tender circles over your sensitive nub. His eyelids flutter, straining to stay open, with the overwhelming sensation of your tight pussy clenching around his calloused fingers. Fuck, if only he could feel you around his rock-hard cock right now… Instead he’s bumping his fingers into you, over and over again, letting you feel every ridge and scar, as he brings you closer and closer to bliss.

“Look at me, love. I want to see you cum for me,” Echo purrs, and curls his fingers to caress that spongy spot inside you.

“Stars, Echo…,” you whimper huskily in response.

The next moment, you throw your hands up to cradle the back of his head, pulling him close roughly, to connect your lips in a searing kiss. He growls into your mouth, and the vibrations of his passion are what’s finally pushing you over the edge. Locking gazes with you, Echo sees your eyes water at the sheer pleasure invading your senses, and all he can do is to swallow your moans as he lets you ride out the waves of your orgasm until you’re a trembling mess in his arms. Both of you stopped dancing a long time ago… but neither of you cares.

“Thank you, Echo. For everything you’ve done this evening for me” you whisper softly as you regain your senses, and though he can’t hear the words over the loud music he still feels them deep inside.

“Anything for you, cyare,” he smiles and slowly slides his fingers out of you, already missing your tight heat.

Echo's hand finally leaves the velvety skin of your drenched pussy to trail up your body, tracing across your belly and over the valley of your breasts… up to your mouth. His coated fingers gliding against your soft and swollen lips, bruised from all his kissing, to coax them open for him. And he watches you intently with darkened and hooded eyes as you accept his fingers into the hot and wet cavern of your mouth, sucking them and licking your own juices off of him.

Kriff, the sight is so erotic, sending another shiver of heat down his spine and he knows that he won’t be able to restrain his needs for much longer. No… he needs to taste you himself, wants you to soak his cock, like you soaked his fingers…

“I have one more present for you, birthday girl.”

Echo’s sweet smile turns into a cheeky smirk as he clasps your wrist and guides your hand to the slope of his codpiece. Your eyes widen in surprise, wondering if he meant what you thought… and you look around, somewhat afraid that anyone has seen what you’ve done. Or what you’re going to do? Luckily not…

“But first…” he fixes your disheveled appearance and adjusts your clothes, “let’s find some unoccupied dark corner.”

You hear him chuckle as a relieved sigh leaves your lips. But you can’t deny the thrilling feeling inside your guts while you follow his brisk steps off the dance floor and towards another new experience.

Stars… this man is going to be the death of you!

Taglist: @ashotofspotchka @june-girl-86 @dinbeskarbaby @itsagrimm @commander-neyo @foxincoruscant @mscalamityjayne @thefact0rygirl @samrubio @deewithani @nahoney22 @mavendeb @starskenobiwan @wolffescumslut @twistedstitcher27 @tech-aficionado @mysticalgalaxysalad @namesmox @boomtowngirl @salaminus @briefartnaturewolf @kamino-mermaid @misogirl828 @snippy-tano @tecker @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @rexandechosandwich @mybigfatspoonielife @scioness-7 @aconstructofamind @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @ladykatakuri @spookoofins

144 notes View Post

latinachiquita

2 years ago

🧎‍♀️

Hey queen! My friend @queen-of-the-night-lights is having a really hard time at her work and with her life in general, so I was wondering if you could please write something about the bad batch being with a tall and plus size reader? She get really self conscious about these traits she has, but I can’t write well to save my life and you are one of her favorite blogs. It can be whatever style you like, you are totally creative and the writer so I leave this to you if you have time for it. 💜

Aloha! So sorry, your friend is having such a hard time 😔 I have no idea If I can do this properly, but I'll give it my best 😊 Sorry for the wait!

The Bad Batch x Tall Plus Size ReaderHCs - Love Yourself

Hey Queen! My Friend @queen-of-the-night-lights Is Having A Really Hard Time At Her Work And With Her

Warnings: Mention Of Negative Self-Perception/Hurt/Comfort/Fluff/ Suggestive As Well As Strong Language (Crosshair)

_________________

Hunter

He has a way of making you feel loved and beautiful. Not only with words, but also with the way he looks at you and touches you. Hunter's warm smile, the way he admires and touches your curves, make you feel like a queen.

He is fascinated by you, attracted to you, just as you are. He would never want to change you, but supports you in any endeavor if you yourself should ever have the desire. His affection goes deeper, he perceives you very differently than you perceive yourself, and he will do everything so that you can see yourself as he sees you, gorgeous and desirable.

To the questions, "Why are you with me?" he answers, "Because you are wonderful, in so many ways that I can hardly put into words. Everything about you is endearing and magnetic".

Of course, even on the worst days when you feel lower than low, he manages to make you smile.

"There it is, that wonderful smile that I love so much, I don't think you should wear more than that tonight, just that smile."

Echo

"Honey, you are wonderful just the way you are"

The moments when you doubt yourself fill him with worry. Echo wants nothing more than for you to feel comfortable and, above all, loved in this relationship. Tender touches, loving, uplifting words, come to his lips with ease, because they are true. Echo is enraptured by you.

On your worst days, he cuddles with you and covers you with tender kisses. "My love, it is hardly possible to put into words how wonderful you are". He is so sweet it almost hurts. It doesn't matter how tall or wide you are, he is addicted to you, every inch of your body. Like an addict, he hangs on your every smile.

"I wish you could see yourself the way I see you, Mesh'la."

"How do you see me?"

Echo smiles dreamily, "As the love of my life. A sweet, adorable treasure, worth protecting, loving and admiring"

Wrecker

He gives you a warm hug.

"My sweet, Mesh'la, do not doubt yourself".

His smile is so warm and vibrant, it gets under your skin. He stands with you in front of the mirror, his big hands wandering along your body, every curve, every inch.

"Look at you, what's not to love?"

Wrecker really doesn't quite understand, he can't imagine how anyone could not be attracted to you.

He looks at you across the mirror so dreamily that your heart beats faster and faster. Wrecker is so direct, so honest and real, everything he says and does, he means exactly that.

"Look at those curves! Wonderful! I can't get enough of them"

He caresses your cheek and croons, "Smile for me beautiful, I want to see you happy my darling".

Tech

He's pretty confident. Not necessarily about his appearance, he doesn't think about that much, his self-confidence is more about his mind and what he's capable of, so he can't immediately grasp what's going on inside you when he first sees you standing in front of the mirror, plagued by self-doubt.

However, Tech wants to understand you, so he asks questions, responds to you. He finally stands next to you, a small smile appears on his lips as your eyes meet in the mirror.

"I like seeing you next to me," he says, putting his hands on your shoulders.

"Oh yeah?"

Tech nods with a smirk, "It makes me proud. I have such a wonderful, being by my side, something I could hardly have dreamed of not so long ago"

"You're sweet," you say with a cautious smile.

"Not nearly as cute as you are," he says with a smirk, "But I must say, together, as a couple, we look extraordinary"

Tech presses a button on his goggles, takes a holo-picture of that moment in front of the mirror and says, "Something like that should be captured for eternity, don't you think?"

He kisses your cheek and says elatedly, "I brought some holomovies, shall we get cozy and watch them?"

Crosshair

Actually, he's more attracted to a certain amount of self-confidence, which is probably why the beginnings of your relationship are a bit bumpy. He likes you, but he struggles with your self-doubt.

However, Crosshair is more adaptable and sensitive than he seems. He has his own very physical way of showing you how great you are. Crosshair desires you, and he shows it to you very directly. His touches are demanding and passionate, but he also has a tender side. He doesn't show it too often, but always right when you need it the most.

"Hey Kitten, what did we do last night?"

Heat creeps into your cheeks, you avoid his gaze in the mirror as he faces you, but he grabs your chin and gently but firmly forces you to look at him over the mirror.

"Ignoring my question would be rude," he says quietly.

"We made love"

He nods and says, "Yeah, fucked your brains out".

Your cheeks get even hotter, and you blink, your eyes jumping from one spot to another.

"Look at me, Mesh'la" he says sternly yet gently.

As you obey him, he says, "Why do you think we did that?"

"You were horny?"

He rolls his eyes, but then smirks, "Well, I guess that's part of it. But no, that's not the main reason. I desire you, I want you, you are mine."

He leans his cheek against your head and says, "I will always desire you, always want you and always want you to be with me."

As you look at him over the mirror, moved by his words and happy, with a beating heart, he says, "Now stop moping, hold that pretty head up high and get into that wonderful new dress I bought you, I want to take you out for dinner"