Latest Posts by rivertoasty - Page 3

"Hearing the title said so emphatically from the tiny boy forced tears from his eyes. He remembered the short form of 'buir' shouted from his own lips, to his father, to his adopted father...

To now to hear it directed at himself felt as though the Ka'ra themselves had blessed him, and that the Manda watched him with pride (or so he hoped). In his heart, he promised his little Boba he'd do all he could to deserve the title. For Boba was his ad'ika, and he was his buir, until the day comes that he leave the living."

Happy Father's Day y'all!! For those with good dads, I hope you're celebrating them and having a great day!! For those who don't, MY dad will adopt you (for context, he's tall, ginger with a big ol beard, gREAT at hugs and comforting you if you're sad, and an awesome handyman willing to listen to you ramble about special interests, hyperfixations, or troubles)!!! I hope you're having a chill day and keeping safe and taking care of yourselves!! 💖💕💖💕

Some fox sketches because he's my comfort character :)

(i took @amikoroyaiart 's design for his face because it's basically canon to me :'))

Hunter as a sub. Begging you when you won't let him cum. Has to have his hands tied becouse he can't control himself. Moans easily and loudly, all while looking pretty and very submissive

Omg, you have unleashed something deep within me, like how? I will GLADLY answer this for you ;)

Warnings: pure filth (NSFW)!

-.-.-

You had no idea how long you had kept this up, and honestly you didn’t care; all that mattered to you was the whimpers and moans coming from the man beneath you.

Hunter looked… well, Hunter looked wrecked. Chest heaving with heavy breaths is you continued to pump him in your hand. His face was probably as red as his bandana tied around his hands, secured to the headboard, his beautiful chocolate brown hair slick with sweat and stuck to his forehead, but neither of you cared.

You had tied his hands down when he would grab at your hands to stop you from pumping him into overstimulation. Of course, you both had a safe word, though he hadn’t used it, so you knew he deep down loved the overstimulation he was feeling.

Hunter bit his lip, hard, and you grabbed his jaw, tilting his turned head towards you. He basically whimpered into your mouth as you leaned over him to kiss his lips, tongue and teeth clashing everywhere.

You wanted to keep at this forever, but you wanted to cum, your slick coating Hunter’s thighs as you sat on them. You scooted closer then, positioning him at your entrance before pushing down.

The sound that came out of Hunter’s mouth was beautiful, all those hours of being edged with your hand had finally come to an end… or so he thought.

“M’gonna c-cum!” He stuttered, and you hadn’t even moved yet. You quickly lifted yourself off, not wanting to cum yet. He whined, sounding like he was about to cry. “P-Please, you’ve… you’ve gone on too long.” He begged.

You chuckled down at him and traced a hand down his stomach, muscles convulsing under your touch. “Should’ve thought about that before you edged me all night the other night.”

“M’sorry!” He slurred, trying to move from the restraints around his wrists. “M’sorry, won’t do it a-again!” This time, you saw a tear roll down his cheek and you felt slightly bad. He did have his heightened senses after all.

“Okay, Sarge.” You said and positioned yourself back, not pushing him inside and you felt him try to buck into you. “But can you at least hold off so we can cum together.”

Hunter’s watery eyes landed on you, “y-yes! I’ll try.” You didn’t need anymore clarification as you sunk down on him, causing you both to moan and Hunter to screw his eyes shut again.

You began bouncing on him, him grazing your gspot every time you sank down. Hunter’s hands balled into fists as he tried to fight off his orgasm. “H-Hurry, won’t… last.” He said and you moaned as you placed your hands on his chest to move faster.

“Hold out a little more, Sarge.” You told him and felt him to shake.

“Kriff, can’t- can’t hold…” You lifted yourself once more, pending his orgasm and he arched his back so far into you that you had to push him back down. “Please, please, stop teasing.”

You had an idea then, needing to find yourself closer to release before you sunk back down on him, and crawled up so your hot and needy core was above his mouth.

Hunter stared at you with pleading eyes, “eat me out, Hunter.” You demanded and he whimpered again before he began to suck your clit into his mouth like his life depended on it.

You threw your head back at the pleasure of his warm mouth of you, hearing him groan around your clit and letting pleasant vibrations run up your body. Your hands came to rest on your breasts, fingers tweaking with your hardened nipples as you began to grind down on Hunter’s face.

You cursed, grinding harder. You made sure he didn’t stop, and he didn’t want too either. His tongue slide into you then, the muscle pushing its way into your hole. You let out another moan, grabbing the leaders hair and giving it a harsh tug.

“Kriff.” He moaned into you, letting you ride his tongue and make a mess on his lower face. “So hot,” he complimented, seeing you already looking down at him with lust in your eyes.

You lifted yourself as you felt your orgasm building, wanting to come around his cock the same time he finally spilled into you.

“You going to be a good boy now? Gonna wait out and cum together?” You cooed as you settled down down his body, cock barely pushing past your wet folds.

Hunter nodded, eyes screwed shut again. You ran the tip of his cock through your folds a few times, hearing Hunter’s unsteady breath and moans. When you sank back down onto his cock, he jolted. You moaned his name loudly, “so tight, so warm.” He babbled.

You rocked back and forth, your orgasm coming fast. “You’re such a good boy Hunter, letting me use your cock for myself. Letting me… ah, letting me decide when you cum.” You slurred, nails digging into the muscle of his chest.

Hunter was moaning ridiculously loud, you wouldn’t be surprised if someone came barging through the doors concerned for him. His face was flushed and hot, eyes screwed shut still, hands still balled into fists. His whole body was rigid, tense from not being able to cum in hours.

As you both neared your high, you leaned down to be eye-level to Hunter. “You’re so good for me, Hunter. Want to cum for me, baby?”

“Yes!” He practically shouted, hips rolling up to meet yours in a weak attempt to finish.

“Then… fuuuck, cum for me, pretty boy.” You could already imagine what he had felt as he came; blinding white light, stars exploding behind his eyelids, waves beyond waves of crashing after so long of pent up orgasm denial. His back stiffened more than before, his breathing halting after a sharp intake of breath, knuckles white and you feared he’d break his fingers. He looked so goddamn pretty.

You came then, moaning out his name as you slumped against his chest. You lifted your head when you calmed down, but due to Hunter’s heightened senses, he was still breath erratically and you ran a hand through his hair.

He jolted at the feeling, still convulsing with post-orgasm shocks, still sensitive to any touch, he was always like this after an orgasm. “You alright there, Sarge?”

He didn’t say anything for a while, eyes still tightly closed and mouth open as fast and swallow breath left his lips. You wondered what it was like to cum that hard, you’d imagine it would be powerful and exhausting, yet absolutely amazing.

“Yeah,” He said after a few short minutes. “That…” He licked his dry lips, taking a deeper breath as he tried to calm his racing heartbeat, “That was… I don’t even have words.”

You chuckled, “You’re welcome.”

Maker, this would not be the las time you did this.

-.-.-

Boy, this has done things to me. I wish I had a Hunter. I hope you enjoyed!

composite concept sketch.

I see your Rambo Hunter and I raise you ponytail Hunter. 

Echo pinup for y’all

~~~

Art tags:

@leeleebee @shellminded @ladykatakuri @omiomicron @haloangel391 @purgetrooperfox @cacodaemonia @peerlesssunshine @fractiouskat @iloveyou3000morgan @jonamore @ahsokatano-thetogruta @alamogirl80 @leias-left-hair-bun @qui-gon-jinn-and-tonic @a-mediocre-succulent @jadetheaverage @missinashkin @voxmyriad

😍

Why is Jango so handsome?  

My best work so far

Star Wars: Revelations Wolffe x Roso

TCW FanFic: Wolffe x Roso 

(Rosomak in full, meaning Wolverine in Polish)

Norslyr Language translations

Neuk/Neuken means fuck in Dutch

This is the first sexual encounter between these two characters in a series I am writing based on the aftermath of TCW.

WARNINGS:  Explicit through and through.  Unprotected sex, cursing, rough and wild, religious mentions, the taking of the Male V-Card.  

4.1K Words

Star Wars: Revelations: Wolffe x Roso

Wolffe takes a sharp breath as Roso pulls on his skin between her teeth.  She sucks on the skin below the neckline of his blacks.  Her hands roam his body, his skin burns under her touch.  His hands timidly begin to explore her body.  Roso breaks from him with a fierce smile.  

“You taste good soldier.”  She says and kisses his lips.  His face flushes red.  Wolffe has never experienced this before, he feels drunk.  

“You feel good ma’am.”  He lets out as she trails down his chest to the hem of his shirt and takes it off him.  Her legs tighten around his waist to bring her body closer to his bare torso.  Goosebumps rise on his skin and she bites his ear lobe.  Her hands comb through his hair and feel the expanse of his back.  His hands hold her close to his body, unable to know what he can do to her in return.  Roso slips back and removes her compression top.  His eyes widen at the sight of her stretching up and her breasts exposed.  He has never seen such beauty in his whole life until now.  

How cruel.

She tosses her shirt to the side and cups his face.  “Please touch me.”  She whispers with a kiss.  His hands run up her stomach to cup her breasts.  The skin feels so delicate, taut, and firm.  The air within the LATT Walker is still with a slight chill from the outside weather.  Making both of their nipples ridged.  He takes a nipple between his thumb and index and lightly rolls it around.  She giggles in response and bites his neck.  

Wolffe instinctually places his hands down at her thighs and positions her apex to rest atop his raging boner.  Roso hums in approval and begins to roll her hips against him.  Moans escape his mouth as she rolls.  He’s never experienced this kind of friction before.  He is utterly helpless underneath her.  He feels as though he may cum already.  Roso can see it in his eyes.

“Cum for me Wolffe, let it out it’s alright.”  She coos in his ear.  

So breathy, needy, all for him.  

He wraps his arms around her and takes what he needs from her to get off.  The release comes hard, his cock twitches between her legs.  The sheer strength of his rig is impressive like the rest of his frame.  She brings her hands to his hair while whispering sweet praises in his ear and giving small kisses to his cheek and neck.  He feels this praise is unearned, he’s done nothing for her.  

“Do you have more to give Trooper?”  She asks taking his chin in her hand.  

“Yes.  Much more.”  He asserts and stands up with her still wrapped around his waist.  

She lets out a surprised,” Oh.”  With an eager smile as he walks forward and places her on the holo desk in the center of the hull.  

“May I undress you?”  He asks as his hands fall to her waist band.  He’s on his knees looking at her like a young pup begging for a treat.

How fitting.

“You may.”  She says and her back meets the table as he slides her pants off.  She wants her panties off too, but his hands stop hers to leave them on.

“I uh- want to take these off with my teeth if that’s alright.”  He says and his face burns a bright red, but he doesn’t break from eye contact.  

“Ja, go for it, Wolffe.”  She answers with an impressed smile.  He slips her socks off so all that Roso is wearing is a bright white thong.  The color matches the facilities of Kamino, how endearing.  

“You hear about this from a brother?”  She asks with a curious smile.  He doesn’t bother to hide his cracked grin.  

“Yeah, and he’s right.  It is just as hot as he described.”  He finishes talking and kisses her inner thighs.  His hands roam over the scarred and tattooed skin.  Maker, she is the softest thing he’s ever had the opportunity to ever feel in his life.  He wants to take her in a bed, not a bunk or sleeping pod, a bed with real sheets and pillows.  A mattress bigger than he is so he can sprawl out, bury himself inside of her.  These thoughts muster an urge from within him as Wolffe stops kissing her thighs and pushes himself up to steal a kiss from her for once.

Wolffe is not a boy anymore, not for much longer at least.  He’s a man and needs to start taking charge of this situation as a man should.  Wolffe cups the back of her head and brings her to him.  The kiss is eager and deep.  Her hands come to his face to hold onto him.  She introduces her tongue to his mouth.  He intended to just kiss her briefly, but now he wants to explore her mouth.  

“Heh, give me that tongue somewhere else, Trooper.”  She breaks from him and releases his face to lay out on the desk.  He trails kisses down her body until he reaches the band of her panties.  His hands feel her breasts.  His warm breath brushes against her skin and a shiver runs down Roso’s spine.  His teeth grip the fabric from a hip, and he pulls it down a leg.  She lets out a soft mewl as he takes in the sight of her wet quim.  She tidied up down there.  The skin is tender, and a delicate pink color towards the center.  

Wolffe’s mouth waters at the bare sight of Roso’s pussy.  

“Tell me what to do.”  He rasps lowly.  Not embarrassed but more so wanting to please her the best he can.  To earn praise for his work.  

“Focus on this little part.  The clit.”  Her hand comes down and presses a little pink button at the crest of her folds.  He replaces her finger with his own to start exploring her terrain.  It’s soft and slippery.  Her hand covers his as he wiggles his finger on the clit.   Mesmerized by the way her legs prop up on the desk and the noises that she lets out into the still air.  

Wolffe takes his finger away and he can’t help but smell it, it’s bitter as the slick begins to dry.  Then he puts it in his mouth to taste it.  

- “I need more to get a real taste of her.”-  He thinks to himself and puts his whole index finger in his mouth to slick it up for her to take it with more ease.  He inserts his finger slowly.  He traces the opening carefully to inspect the durability.  This is where children are meant to come from, surely it can take a finger or two.  

As his finger slips in, Roso lets out a wonderful sound that Wolffe needs to hear more of.  She’s so wet, her moans, her hands come to her breasts to play with her soft nipples.  His tan skin entering her fair pink warmth has him throbbing below.  

Wolffe slides his finger in and out a few times and adds his middle finger.  She brings a hand down to meet his, not to stop him, but just to touch him.  He brings his tongue to her clit as his fingers work to open her up for his pulsing mass.  The hull begins to ring with her moans and mewls.  The air is growing warm with their bodies.  Her hand leaves his to grip his hair, which he finds turns him on even more.  

“Oh Wolffe…you’re so good!  You’re doing so good!”  She lets out with pleasure.  Roso can feel his fingers dig deep inside, stretching her in a blissful manner.  

She needs more.  

Roso’s hands comb through his thick hair, touching his shoulders to the back of his neck as his tongue laps at her clit.  She pulls the back of his hair to angle his eyes to look up at her as his tongue flicks at her clit.  She can feel that hot coil building in her core, her legs open wider, she leans back on her elbows.  To then just collapse on the table as her back arches.  He can feel her intensity, her need for release.  

Her moans grow louder and louder to a concerning level.  He almost stops to make her pipe down, but how can he do that to her?  Deny her a release as she had bestowed upon him moments before…or maybe he could stop now?  See if she would beg him, ask for him to continue, maybe she’d order him to make her cum.  The thought alone makes him hum with excitement which transfers onto Roso.

“Move your fingers faster please!”  She sounds completely out of control, just focused on one goal.  Wolffe breaks his face from her pussy and cranes up to silence her with a kiss.  He hooks an arm around her neck to cradle her up with his fingers working away below.  His tongue invades her mouth.  Roso tastes herself on his tongue and just melts on his hand.  He takes his fingers out but before she can protest, he switches to his middle and ring fingers and buries them to the last knuckle.  As he does this, he can feel a patch of rubbery skin inside her walls.  

“That spot…”. She stifles her moan in his shoulder.  “Yes, yes yes!  Ja!”  Wolffe inserts his fingers repeatedly and rubbing that patch until her walls quiver and what he thinks is piss that sprays him and drips onto the floor.  Her arms lock around his neck, he keeps fingering her until her hand comes down to clutch him still.  Her breath is ragged, and her grip is tight, her nails dig deliciously into his skin.  Wolffe hopes the marks she leaves do not heal too quickly.  He hopes they last to serve as a reminder of his accomplishment on this night.  Making a woman cum with just his fingers.  

Wolffe finds himself rubbing against her thighs for friction.  So caught up in her excitement forgetting about his own erection.  

“By Odin…”  She lets out softly into his neck.  Having her cling to him like this is beyond arousing.  Catching her breath, she reaches up and pulls her hair band out to let her bright blonde hair fall.  Roso looks up into Wolffe’s eyes from his chest with her beautiful sky-blue pools.  Tears of pleasure in the corners with flushed cheeks.  “That was amazing.”  She speaks with a sex drunk smile and kisses his plump lips.  Their tongues dance.  

Wolffe is reluctant to part from her but he needs to straighten up from his position.  Roso follows suit, the surface of the desk isn’t flat.  It has raised borders along the edge and center, which have been digging into her sides and back.  When she gets to her feet she nearly drops, the attentive soldier supports her.  She can no longer ignore his erection.  He has been rather patient and respectful with her.  Nothing like a petulant teenager poking and prodding for his own release with little care for her needs.  

Roso wraps her arms around his neck as they stood there and kisses Wolffe deeply.  Her hands slowly making their way down his broad chest down to his abdomen.  Her hands reach his waist band and pull them down to free his throbbing stalk.  She lowers to her knees.  She takes his cock in hand, while looking up at him she purposefully has his cock over her face to show him just how big his male equipment is in comparison to her female anatomy.  

He revels in this display.  He kicks his blacks off from his feet to be completely naked with her.  She licks a heated stripe up from his base to the tip.  Moved by this action he finds himself looking for something to lean against.  

“Sit down Wolffe.”  She says and he looks behind himself to see the chair they were in earlier.  He sits down and watches as she crawls on all fours to snake between his legs and pump his cock.  Locks of hair cover her left eye, both of which are swimming with lust.  Groans leave him as she plays with the head with her tongue.  She laps at the opening of his cock, digging her tongue into the divot.  His hands grip the arm rests, he doesn’t know what else to do with his hands.  Can he touch her?  Play with her hair?  Push her head down onto it?  His hips buck at the idea of just taking her skull and stuffing his rod down her gullet.  But seeing how large his mass is, he doesn’t want to choke her, at least not with his cock, his hands maybe…

Roso can read him like an instruction manual.  She ‘pops’ off his head and takes his right hand and places it to the back of her head to grip her hair.  “I can’t deep throat.  But I’ll do my best sir.”  She says in a sultry voice before taking more of him in her mouth.  She cleans his cock from all the dried release he let out earlier.  

- “Glad he cares to groom himself.”- Roso thinks to herself, appreciating the shaved pubes above his shaft.  

The light from the viewport captures the raised veins that rage within his cock.  His balls are tight, even with the recent release he is ready to deploy another battalion of his own soldiers for her.  The lewd noises that come from her mouth as she swallows him down makes him open his legs more.  Relaxing whilst enjoying the view and the pleasure.  But he doesn’t have another round in him if he cums again, she knows this.  Roso hollows her cheeks and sucks him deeply.  The heat of her mouth mixed with her precise tongue and saliva mix around his shaft.  With a few more bobs his head falls back with a sinful moan.  His grip loosens from her hair and falls to grip her throat.  

“I want your quim woman, please.”  His voice is at a dangerously low tone that makes Roso squirm with delight.  She responds with taking his cock from her mouth with another loud and erotic ‘pop’.  Then she climbs onto him once again.  She leans forward to get his mass lined up with her aching opening.  Wolffe doesn’t think he can fit all the way inside her, he’s clearly much too big for her entrance.  But he’d be damned if he didn’t try and push for it.  

Wolffe’s hands come to her sides to support her as she rises, the head rests at the opening.  Roso watches Wolffe’s eyes narrow in anticipation, he takes a sharp inhale, his Nero’s Crown bobs in his throat with a gulp.  A devilish glint appears in Roso’s eyes as she sinks down onto him.  Her hands come from his chest to his throat, she needs both hands to assert her grip around him.  His hands tighten their grip on her hips in response.  She gets him halfway inside.  Her walls are so tight around him, he doesn’t know which tightness to focus on. 

Her tight grip around his throat or her pulsing pussy.

“Roso…”  He sighs.  Heated tears of ecstasy form in the corners of his eyes.  She feels too good.  Her beautiful tattooed and scarred sculpted body on top of his own.  His toes curl at the overwhelming pleasure.  She moves up a ways, he can feel the drag of their connections.  Then she sinks back down swallowing even more of him until she buries his whole cock inside herself.  Her walls pulse around him.  

“Shhh now.  Let the experienced do her job, soldier.”  She lifts a finger to his lips.  With the release of that hand, he can breathe more, but this leaves him to dive into the euphoria of her insides.  He can feel ridges inside her, it’s soft and yet resilient.  It feels like a muscle and reacts like one.  

It is truly divine.  

Wolffe’s jaw goes slack, and his head falls back as she bounces on his meat.  She feels the burn of her opening from the stretch of his girth.  Her forehead falls into the crook of his neck as she rides him.  His hands gripping tightly on her hips.  Her nails scrape his scalp and shoulders.  

“So tight…”  He whimpers into the open air.  His head becomes dizzy.  Roso begins panting, her tongue slides along the column of his neck.  “So good…so wet…oh kriff!”  He pants into her ear as his hands wrap around her holding her close and reaching down to cup her ass.  

“You’re so big Wolffe!  Ah!  Neuk me door Odin!”  She hisses through her teeth as she bites into his shoulder to stifle her scream.  

“Kriff…bite me harder.”  He seethes through his teeth, taking the pain and begins to thrust up into Roso.  He wants more.  She follows his request and picks a new spot closer to his neck.  She bites him again and again, her nails dig into his back, the chair begins to rock about as she slams down onto him.  

Her warmth envelopes him, not just her physical anatomy; but her entire presence.  

Dominating yet displays refreshing feminine grace.  A determined and kind smile.  Her vocabulary is creative and endearing as Arubesh is not her first language.  She treats the men as human beings, inspires individuality, and evokes independent thinking.  All things his engineering should refuse right?  Especially being intimate with a female, it should not be a desire.  But when Roso tore Bric a new one on Kamino after he disrespected Jedi Knight Shaak Ti behind her back in front of the battalions; he could not deny his ingrained human male desire.

Wolffe must fuck Roso, she catches wind of his need.  Now here she is answering the demand of this Alpha male.  

“Neuken Thor!”  She keeps saying the name of other men.  Wolffe will no longer subject himself to hear her scream the name of other men whilst she is riding him.  

“That.  Is.  Not.  My.  Name.  Woman!”  He snaps up with his arms under her legs as his words are punctuated with every thrust.  Each thrust he pulls out to the head and stuffs himself back inside with a newfound ferocity.  Each thrust pushes the air from her lungs as he fills her insides to reshape her quim to the shape of his thick stalk.  A thin sheen of sweat breaks across the both of them as the heat of their sex fills the walker’s hull.  

“Ah!  Wolffe!  Oh Wolffe!  Ah!  Ah!  Alpha!”

“Just my damn name!”  He pounds away, he slams her to the holo desk and keeps her legs spread with his hands gripping each ankle.  Her breasts bounce in rhythm to the force of his hips smashing into hers.  As her mind goes blank, she realizes that the word Alpha is also a name given to more distinguished Clones.   

His force is so great it makes Roso think that he’ll saw her in half.  His cock is buried to the hilt.  With no sign of stopping unless she makes amends.  He was right to punish her for screaming the names of other men while he is the one delivering this pleasure onto her.  To make amends for her error she looks up at him with apology dripping from her eyes.  Her hands reach up to signal for him to lean down over her so she can cling to him, to take his brutal onslaught of prurience.  

“Wolffe…”  She mewls.  He cannot punish her, for she is not…his.  

His pace lessens but does not halt.  He is close now.  He leans down to accept her embrace.  His hands slide down to grasp her and pull her to his chest.  Her legs wrap around his waist as her nails dig into his back once more.  His cock pumping inside, her warmth squelches with every thrust echoing in the hull with their pants and moans.  She returns her teeth to his unmarked shoulder.

“Where should-should I- cum?”  He lets out between grunts.  

“Wherever you want…Wolffe!”  She whines in his ear followed by inserting her tongue into it.  Her breasts press against his chest, her quim clenches, and squirms.  The slapping of their flesh is erotic.  His girth fulfills her needy ache.  

As Wolffe nears release, every cell in his body screams to cum inside.  He focuses on what he physically can feel on his member.  Roso’s pitch becomes higher, her whines are drawing out.  He hammers down into her as if he were Thor and she the Anvil.  Roso clutches a fistful of his hair and the words Wolffe has longed to hear finally spill from her mouth.

“Wolffe I’m cumming!  I’m cumming on your cock!  Right now, ah!”  A white-hot flash blinds Roso.  Her coiling ache releases around Wolffe’s cock which constricts his member in a way he has never fathomed.  He drops to his knees with her in his arms and he does the only thing a soldier knows how, he presses onward.  He continues to rut into her with unsteady thrusts but remains buried to the hilt inside her, trying to feel her snug pussy for all its worth while she comes undone on him.  

Wolffe cums inside her.  It is abrupt.  It is hard.  It takes their breath away.  

He cups the back of her head as he falls forward, his body needs to be as deep inside her as possible.  

As he cums, Wolffe howls.  

His rig releases a very generous load.  An amount he has never released on his own before.  His blistering ropes can be felt filling up her womb.  She is going to be feeling him for the remainder of the week she can just tell.  He collapses on top of her.  His breath brushes across her neck.  He buries his face in her shiny hair and removes himself from her spent apex.  They remain there in a loose embrace of tired and heaving limbs.  

His seed spills from her pot.  

Wolffe props himself up with one arm to look down at Roso.  An arm is raised to her forehead, she regains her breath and looks up at him.  She brings a hand to his cheek and they share a deep kiss.  He has marks all over his upper body and back, almost matching the same number of scars on her own body.  But she knows he will wear them proudly.  Her fair skin is glistening in their sweat.  He sits up to give her space, he looks between her legs to see his cum spill from her engorged opening.  His cock twitches but doesn’t have the strength to rise once more.  

But the sight of this…what it signifies…

“Thank you…”  He says to break the lingering silence in the hull.  

“Heh, ja, thank you Trooper.”  She says and sits up and leans back against the holo desk.  “Honored to show you a good time for your first time.”  She winks at him.  Her legs close him off from the sight between them.  

“It was magnificent.  Aside from the use of others’ names.  Could’ve done without that.”  He smirks.  

She closes her eyes and her head dips forward for a moment, then returns her gaze to meet his.  “Odin is the All Father of my Gods.  Thor is one of his mightiest Sons.  Alpha was only to refer to you as the ‘Alpha Wolf’.”  She clears the air.  “You were fucking me with the spirit of Gods Wolffe.”  Her eyes light up in the darkness of the hull.  A foot drags up the side of his leg affectionately.  He feels pride in his chest, he has earned this praise.  

He moves over to sit next to her and leans against the bottom of the holo desk.  Her hand finds his and their fingers entangle.  Her head rests on his shoulder, both still panting slightly, coming down together from their highs.  For as right as this all feels, Wolffe knows all too well that this isn’t a real relationship.  It never can be, it could exist however if he were not a Clone.  Secondary property of the Republic, firstly to his Kaminoan creators.  Both entities forbidding any sort of intimate relationship.  

He is property, nothing more and nothing less.  Roso understands the purpose of his creation and yet here they both are.  Being intimate as nature intends for men and women.  And no one from either side came in and busted them.  This is a conclusion that these men need to realize on their own terms; and they will in due time. But this isn’t a time for an angsty speech. They enjoy the moment together.  

“Wolffe?”  Roso asks softly.  He says nothing but looks down at her with a gentle gaze.  

“I’d love to have you again sometime in the future.”  She says and plants a thoughtful kiss to his lips.  He reciprocates her feelings with a warm smile and a brightness within his eyes.  She knows in that very instant; the next time she finds him within the Void, that brightness will no longer be present within both his eyes.  

“I look forward to it, Roso.”

AU where Crosshair came home at the end of season 1 I guess ROFL

Poor baby

[ORIGINAL WORDS BY @ewanmcgregorismyhomeboy12]

EDIT: this is a quote from the movie KUNG-FU PANDA 2. This is just a fun joke, and is not intended to be taken seriously.

I don't know how much this has been talked about or if there's something that'll totally refute my little theory (or prove it right but I haven't seen it) but here goes:

I really think Crosshair was supposed to kill Cham here too.

But we see him hesitate and even aim the Firepuncher away

And then we see Rampart looking over at him like this

And in the next episode when Rampart tells him "I'm more worried about what you're capable of," I don't think he just meant finding Hera.

And one of two:

Either Crosshair doesn't have the chip anymore by this point and he's directly going against an order

Or he does still have the chip (unbeknownst to him) and is fighting it

The Lost Commanders — Rex, Wolffe, and Gregor

Requested by @dogmascutie​

Han & Leia / Star Wars Galaxy of Adventures

Credit to @Bribinart

THE LAYOUT OF THE HAVOC MARAUDER 

I too am annoyed that there are no official interior plans of the ship available to us, so I have combined all the information we have been shown into what is hopefully a helpful, detailed description. 

If you are wondering where they sleep, where the entrance is located, how many chairs there are (random I know but the answer is funny) etc. I’ve included that all!

I may point out some obvious things, but I just want to be thorough :)

Keep reading

WOW

Hello! So I’m a shy follower that loves your works, and I’m afraid of asking publicly hence the anonymous.

If you are still writing prompts, I’d love #8 “You can have whatever you want. You just have to ask” with Hunter if that’s not too much to ask.

Congrats on many followers, you deserve hundreds more! 💖

Oooh, hi! Thank you both, this was a really great prompt. I had a lot of fun with it, and Hunter is always a nice challenge. I really hope you like what I came up with! 

(And please don’t be too shy to say hello! I understand if you don’t want to post publicly but I promise I don’t bite and I’d love to hear from you 💕) x

Pairing: Hunter x F!Reader Wordcount: 2.8k Rating: Explicit 18+ Warnings: Oral sex over clothing (f! receiving, implied m!receiving), Hunter is ✨sensitive✨

He’s just so calm. It’s almost unfair how calm he is, you think, wiping down the spirit-sticky bar top.

It’d been an uneventful night for a change and it was almost certainly thanks to his presence. Hunched broodily at the end of the bar as he’d methodically cleaned his vibroblade, none of the salon regulars had dared make an untoward comment to you tonight. It’d been nice, actually. You hadn’t expected him to hang around the whole night, not after you’d told him Cid wasn’t coming back until tomorrow afternoon. He’d shrugged, apparently unbothered about not getting paid straightaway.

“S’been getting crowded on the ship anyway,” he’d muttered. “Might as well keep an eye on things here.”

You’d had to suppress your smile. He’s barely said more than five words in a row to you the whole time you’ve known him, but you’ve come to crave his company. Cid hadn’t shared your sentiment, and you stifle a snort at the memory of her words as you tip out the dregs of a drink into the basin below you. “If dark, handsome and not-so-tall keeps lurking around my bar with a face like that, he’ll scare away all my customers.”

Now that the doors are locked and the place is at least slightly cleaner, you feel a weight leave your shoulders. Pouring two glasses of jet juice, you slip around the bar to lean beside him, sliding one of the drinks over. He raises an eyebrow in silent question, raising the glass and frowning at the contents.

“On the house,” you tell him, lifting your own glass to clink against his. “To say thank you for watching out for me all night.”

His eyes dart away from your face to consider the drink in his hand. “Cid probably won’t appreciate you pouring freebies. She already chewed me out once.”

You grin. “Really? What’d you do?”

He glances up at you for a fraction of a second, eyebrows furrowed and both elbows braced on the bar top as he tips a mouthful back. “Something about… keeping my mitts off her barmaid. I already told her I’d never try it with you, but she made a point of showing me her teeth all the same.”

Your heart gives a violent kick in your chest, and you keep your eyes lowered, hoping he can’t tell how much the words affected you. Sure, he’s a lot more interesting than any of the other men you’ve met on Ord Mantell; mysterious, tough and silent, his stoic, unapproachable demeanour incongruous with the respectful way he’d always spoken to you. You just hadn’t thought he’d be so drastically opposed to the idea of… trying it. It hurts a little bit.

You keep your tone lightly detached as you sip your own drink. “How’s Omega’s aim coming along? Am I gonna be patching any more holes in the walls?”

He runs a hand across his jaw, and you catch a glimpse of a row of scars across his knuckles. “Good. Better than expected. She learns fast.”

“She’s a smart kid,” you affirm, swirling the contents of your glass thoughtfully.

“Yeah. She… was the one who said I should come keep an eye on you for the night. Thought you might have some trouble without Cid here.”

Yet again you’re reminded that the kid seems to be the one calling the shots for the crew, and it makes your lips quirk up at the thought of a squad of hardened soldiers, sitting around awaiting directions from the little girl. He seems stiff about it, like he’s not used to following suggestions from anybody but himself. Which inspires your next question.

“So. You have a girl somewhere? In another system?”

He seems to almost startle at the suggestion, his head jerking up. “No.

“A boy, then?”

He shakes his head slowly, the shag of dark hair around his face shifting as he considers you. “What about you?” There’s something careful in his voice, and he watches as you smile shyly, shaking your own head.

“I’m on my own. Except for Cid, of course.”

He clears his throat. “Well. You could’ve had your pick of men in here tonight.”

You tilt your face to look across at him. He’s still frowning at the glass in his hand, the crooked bridge of his nose pronounced in profile view like this. Facing forward, you can’t see his tattoo. Just his bare skin; the high cheekbone down to his strong jawline. He’d taken off most of his armour when he’d come in, leaving it heaped behind the bar like usual. Without it, you can see the lines of his body clearly through the form-fitting black body glove: broad shoulders and chest tapering down to a narrow waist, the lean outline of muscle visible. “Could I?” you murmur. Your voice comes out low.

His gaze shifts sideways to meet yours. “They’d trip over themselves if they thought they had a chance. It’s hard to miss how… beautiful you are.”

Warmth blossoms up your neck, and there’s a flutter of emotion in your chest. He doesn’t say it like teasing, or flattery. He says it almost begrudgingly. Maybe… you misjudged him earlier. Maybe the only reason he’d never make an advance is out of respect, not from lack of want. It’s almost too much to hope for, but it’s enough to send the nervous excitement thrilling in your ribcage lower, down to the base of your stomach. You turn, leaning back on your elbows against the bar so you’re facing him. He’s avoiding looking directly at you, but you don’t miss the sudden stiffness in his posture. Now that’s interesting.

“You think I’m beautiful?”

He looks uncomfortable. “I’m… not suggesting—“

“I know. You promised Cid you wouldn’t come anywhere near me.” You take another sip of your jet juice, wincing at the burn but glad for the boldness it affords you. You’d never have been brave enough to say the next thing without it. “But what if I wanted you to?”

He doesn’t say anything, but he does finally look at you properly, full in the face. You feel a little buzzed; and you shift your thighs unconsciously as you wait. He has a beautiful neck, you think, feeling deranged. You want to suck at it. The thought throbs right down between your legs, and he takes in a sharp, deep breath, his dark eyes still fixed to yours.

“You…” he begins slowly, voice gruff, “can have anything you want. You just have to ask.”

Your breath catches. Your heart is drumming now, loud in your ears, and the fluttering in your stomach has sharpened into something markedly more rhythmic, in time with your pulse. You press your legs together around the feeling. “Then I would like you to kiss me.” You didn’t mean to whisper it, but the air between you suddenly seems thicker; as though the sounds are muffled.

Hunter straightens. “Where?” At first you think you’ve misheard his rough response. Then it lands, and you feel your skin exploding into flames.

Wordless, almost dazedly, you touch your fingertip to your own lips. He braces a hand on the bar at either side of your body, leaning in and crowding you back. And then his lips are on yours. It’s not a hard kiss; if anything, it’s much gentler than you would have expected from him, almost hesitant. He sucks in another slow, deep breath through his nose as he carefully coaxes your lips apart, the sharpness of the jet juice mixing with the warm taste of him.

Pressed against the length of you like this, you can feel every part of his body through the thin fabric of your dress. The firmness of his chest, the expanding and contracting of his stomach muscles as he breathes into the kiss. But you can feel something else too, hard and insistent against your hip, and you roll yourself closer. He groans, and it’s encouragement enough to have you palming his erection through his body glove, earning you a full-body shudder.

You want to feel it again, you decide, and more, and closer. You want to see him and feel him without the obstructing clothes. So you pull back slightly, sliding sideways along the length of the bar and tugging him along with you. He follows with his kiss, never breaking the contact, expression furrowed into keen, pained concentration.

You stumble backward, nearly overturning one of the lifeless dejarik tables as you fumble for the doorframe, trying not to walk into it. Your tiny room is behind Cid’s office; it’s dingy, and there’s just a cot and a ‘fresher, but she’s never asked for rent, so you’ve never complained.

Backing up until your legs hit the edge of the bed, you sit down clumsily, finally breaking the kiss.

He breathes hard through his nose, seeming to shiver as he gazes down at you, standing between your spread knees. Emboldened by the obvious bulge of his erection, you raise a hand to your breast, touching the softness of your own skin with a demonstrative fingertip as before, showing him where. He leans down over you, and you let yourself fall backward, laying flat. He’s a shadow in the dark as he palms your breast over your dress, and you arch your back up into his touch.

He lowers his head, mouthing at you. Your nipples ache under your dress, but his hot mouth is rapidly dampening the fabric, and you reach down to seize a handful of his hair, bringing his face closer to your chest. He lowers his body until he’s laying across the bed, his hands propped beside your arms. He’s groaning down into the front of your dress, not yet even at your bare skin, and warmth rolls up your neck. It’s incredibly heady; his desire for you palpable.

Shifting under his weight, you prop yourself onto your elbows as he lifts his face to look up at you. Thick black eyelashes frame his watchful eyes, oddly pretty in an otherwise rugged face. Slowly, giving him time to follow your movements, you reach for the bandana around his forehead and pull it away, dropping it beside your bed. His hair curtains around his face without it, and you run a hand back through his loosened hair. There’s a narrow scar at his temple, still a fresh, darkened red colour, not yet faded pale. His eyes drift shut at the feeling of your fingertips against his scalp, and he seems to tense.

Fuck, he’s so sensitive, you think, as he draws in another shuddering breath. You can see the muscles across the tops of his shoulders flexing with every gentle touch of your fingers, and restless, you shift your thighs under his.

“Hunter?” you breathe, waiting as he manages to drag his eyes open again. Holding his gaze, you bring your hand down between your bodies. His breathing catches as he watches your hand slide against your breast, down to your stomach, and lower. When you rest your fingertip just above your public mound, his eyes dart back to your face.

“You want… fuck cyar’ika, you’d let me…?” His normally-low voice is ragged, deep and effortful.

You nod, suddenly shy again as he shifts lower, his face inches from the apex of your thighs. “What does that mean? Cyar’ika?”

He rucks the hem of your dress up around your waist and seems to pause at the sight of your underwear covering your pussy. You wonder if he can tell how worked up you are… if your arousal has dampened the fabric. You shift your thighs, waiting, but he doesn’t remove them. Instead, he brings his face down, pressing his nose into the fabric directly over your clit and inhaling deeply.

Your face burns even as hot desire unfurls wide in your stomach, making your cunt ache. It’s the most intimate thing you’ve ever experienced. One of his hands braced at your lower stomach, pinning you still as he breathes slowly, in and out. You can only see slivers of his face through his hair, but his expression is rapturous. It reminds you of the way wealthy bar patrons look as they examine a glass of expensive toniray before drinking it; appreciating the bouquet.

After an interminable length buried there, he finally lifts his face to look up at you. “Sweetheart,” he husks, voice strained. “It means sweetheart.”

It’s so… tender, and you shyly raise a trembling hand to your own face as you gaze down at him.

“Oh,” is all you can produce in the way of response. He’s already lowering his head for more, but this time your whole body jolts at the feeling of his lips pressing at the thin fabric. Kissing at your covered cunt, a blunt-nailed hand snakes up the side of your thigh, holding the skirt of your dress up. You shift your hips up, feeling oversensitive and needy, and he responds by pressing his hot tongue to the exact spot covering your clit.

You collapse flat onto your back, both hands over your face as he continues breathing ragged against you, the dully abrading scrape of stubble between your thighs, his tongue and your cunt working together to soak the flimsy scrap of material. The friction is perfect; the pressure precisely accurate at your clit, and you realise with a hot wave of astonished bewilderment that he’s going to make you cum in your panties. There’s a harsh, gritty exhale and you peer between your fingers to see that he’s rutting mindlessly at the bed beneath him, his hips shifting, searching for his own friction. There’s something powerfully sexy about this; the fact that even through the fabric, the taste of your cunt is enough to have him mindlessly thrusting at nothing.

His tongue presses harder, flicking right over the most sensitive part of your clit; slightly upward and to the side, and you gasp as he matches the movement again, and again, until your hips are lifting, writhing off the bed. He pins you down with the entire side of his arm, his weight bracing as he keeps his mouth’s movements precise and all too fast you can feel your legs shaking, muscles seizing.

“I’m… you’re going to make me…” you whimper, unable to form the words but uncaring as your release cracks right down from your chest, keen to the point between your thighs. You can’t even thrash with the force of your orgasm, his arm still holding you perfectly still. Somehow this only prolongs the waves of pleasure, unable to writhe away, forced helplessly to stay still as liquid heat floods the lower half of your body, his tongue unrelenting. You don’t know how long it takes, only that eventually your legs have melted into stillness, the trembling subsided.

He’s still mouthing at you, and you look down as there’s a rasping, wet-bubbling sound. Your face bursts into flame anew when you realise what he’s doing. He’s… sucking the wetness from your panties; greedily wringing the soaked fabric between his teeth to wrench every last drop of you into his mouth. When he’s finally done, you return your fingers to his hair, murmuring his name until he’s looking up at you.

“Do you want me to…?” You suck your lower lip into your mouth, letting your gaze run down the length of his body.

“I’m… no, cyar’ika. I’m alright.” He looks gruffly apologetic as he shifts his weight up onto his elbows, and you realise that the front of his body glove has a wide circle of wetness, darker than the surrounding material.

The understanding makes you blink at him, wordless. You’re overwhelmed with a feeling of… pride. This gruff, shadowy, tattooed man, scaring everyone in Cid’s bar away, cumming untouched because of you, simply overwhelmed by the taste of your cunt. You’ve never felt more desirable in your life. You’re only disappointed that you won’t get to taste him.

But — wait, that’s not true. His own recent ministrations have inspired you. There’s no reason you can’t see exactly what the appeal for him had been, and you’re filled with the urge to try it for yourself: kissing at the still-sensitive head of his cock through the wetness of his release. You ease yourself up into a seated position, smiling at him. “It’s okay. I don’t mind. Lay back for me.”

The surprise in his face makes you wonder if nobody has ever offered to take care of him this way before. It makes you sad, even as he shifts to comply. Nobody? you think. It seems terribly unfair. But, you rationalise to yourself, better late than never.

You’ll do your best to make it up to him.

Taglist:

@kaorikoizumi @bvcketfvcker @saradika @mandaloriandin @whatanoof @thiccumz @rexsjaigeyes @sgtdogmastyle @phoenixhalliwell @just-fics-i-read @tacticalsparkles @alucas528 @chromia7567 @herb-welch @sithwitch-crosshairs-toothpick @cannedsoupsucks @clanoffetts @delusionsxfgrandeur @bobas-missing-codpiece @ladyopress @writeforfandoms @pinkiemme @justanothersadperson93 @fuckyeahbeskar @hyperfixation-archives @bedky @parkotedarasuum @space-b33 @14mcmd1122 @justanotherstarwarswhore @vaderthepotater @dangerousstrawberrypie @infinity-mars @the-grey-jedi @jakiejellybean @meabravo @galacticgraffiti @smoldjarin @techposting @shuttlelauncher81

Die hard

Echo has a z-6 rotary blaster cannon on his armor that says ‘For Hevy’ in Aurebesh

Temuera Morrison as Axel Barb Wire (1996) dir. David Hogan

i'll do you all a favour, the original bad batch story reels aren't avaliable anymore but your boy has them all on dropbox. there are so many good moments that were left out...including rex talking about fives and echo, sleepy time crosshair, some good boy banter, tech wearing his goggles on the top of his head

The bad batch

A Distant Echo

On the Wings of Keeradaks

Unfinished Business

Reunion, chapter four | Commander Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.1k

Chapter warnings: smut- soft!Wolffe, vaginal sex, unprotected sex, slight Dom!Wolffe???, slight dirty talk.

__________________________________________

The rest of your week with Wolffe passes by in a blur, much to your chagrin. However, you take solace in the fact that it’s been a blur of happiness, laughter, and an entanglement of naked limbs. You can’t even remember when you’d last felt so happy or so at ease.

You awake on your final day together with a smile etched across your features, the sun’s glow warming your face as the sensation of steady breaths fan against the back of your neck. It’s how you’ve become accustomed to waking now, the feeling of strong arms encapsulating you, legs intertwined with yours as if you’d ever attempt to escape. You squeeze the firm muscles of his forearm, relishing the feeling of his heart beating against your back. He rouses with your movement just slightly, mumbling a rough ‘good morning’ into the shell of your ear. You smile into your pillow and whisper a soft greeting in return. The deep baritone of his voice in the morning still causes your heart to skip a beat.

Keep reading

The Bad Batch, deleted scene ep 107

dying is preferable to this osik.

-Crosshair probably

I offer you:

The bad batch smiling 🖤

Dee Bradley Baker has to be protected at all costs. Just look at him.

Dave really put the two problem children in a "get along" pod lol

Tech is so patient with his little sister, and if you look closely he is often very smiley around her and I love that for him.

Tech without his helmet.

“We don’t leave our own behind”

star wars gif meme: [01/07] relationships ↳ Captain Rex & Ahsoka Tano