SAME

Tbb if they were in high school

Wrecker: WHYS THE BUS ALWAYS LATE IM COLD

Crosshair: speak for yourself

Tech: it isn’t wreckers fault you’re a stick insect with no way to retain heat

Hunter: all of you shut up! *feels the ground* the bus is two streets over it’ll be here soon

Echo, who just joined the friend group: how does he do that??

The perfect ending :)

Behind the Screen - Pt.3

Summary: Tech has been scrolling for hours, searching for something specific. His little crush on you is constantly sitting on his shoulders, and it’s weighing him down to the point that he’s desperate to find any content that reminds him of you, so he can jerk off and go to sleep! However, what he wasn’t expecting was to come across you specifically, legs spread, hand in between your thighs as you touch yourself proudly on camera.

Pairing: Tech x Female Reader

Tags: Sex work, Mutual pining, Masturbation, Flirting, Smut, First time, First kiss, Light dom/sub, Oral (giving and receiving,) Multiple positions, Dirty talk, Creampie, Pillow talk, Love confessions.

Word count: 6k

[Part 1]

Keep reading

ECHO IN THE BAD BATCH SEASON 2 TRAILER

just watched the bad batch my manwife for whole season

My love for Echo

I love him, your honor

Wholesome 🥹

Pretty Boy.

Echo *lounging in the Marauder*: I'm over here looking alright.

Hunter *lifts head to look at Echo*: Don't you mean looking pretty?

Echo *looks over and then at Tech*: Nope.

Tech *squints at him*: Why are you looking at me?

Echo *puts his head back down*: He doesn't know.

Tech *frowns*: Know what?

Crosshair *from where he is perched ontop of a stack of crates*: That you're the pretty one.

Tech *blinks and sits up completely*: I am not!

Echo *sighs*: Of course you are.

Wrecker *laughs*: Yeah!

Tech *confused*: But Hunter-

Echo *glances at Hunter*: Is far too worried about his hair.

Hunter *scowls*: Hey!

Crosshair *smirks*: Don't worry Hunter, you're still pretty.

Hunter *huffs*: Thanks-

Crosshair *grin spreads across his face*: Pretty annoying.

Wrecker *pokes Hunter*: Ha!

Chocolate Abuelita

Reblog with your go-to hot beverage in the tags! Now that it’s getting chilly I’m curious what everyone’s comfort beverages are!!

Ummm ….. this was too good! 🥹

I would love to see a part 2, where reader has him screaming her name 👉🏽👈🏽

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.