#cc 3636 x reader

[221bshrlocked]

shut the door

Pairings: Commander Wolffe x Jedi Fem!Reader

Words: 2538

Warnings: Ahsoka, Fives and Kix being little shits. Reader getting hella submissive real quick. Wolffe going from shy to dominant even quicker. Lots of touching and biting. Implied smut.

Summary: You try to play a prank on Ahsoka, but it backfires...in a good way.

A/N: I don't know what this is to be honest. I just saw this video of a couple where the wife throws cold water over her husband while he was in the shower and then he dragged her into the water, and my mind immediately came to this fic. Also, I still have @cloned-eyes lovely art work engraved in my mind so that's the Wolffe I'm picturing here. Enjoy my lovely clone simps.

“That’s it, tell me when it’s time to leave.” Ahsoka says as she stands up and walks towards the door connecting your room with the others’. 

“Wait, where are you going? You can’t just leave in the middle of an undercover mission.” You call after her, checking to make sure that Rex and Anakin were still looking out for the target. 

“We’ve been here for days, and I feel unclean. I won’t take too long.” She ignores your response as she grabs a towel and some clothes to change into. 

“You’re going to leave me with those two by myself?” You ask her again, not caring for how both men react to the indirectly offensive question. 

“Hey! What is that supposed to mean?” Anakin calls back, muttering something beneath his breath when he sees Rex laughing at the three of you. You shake your head at Anakin, only to turn around and miss Ahsoka walking to the refresher. Glancing at the rest of the men in your company, you see them shrug their shoulders and get back to whatever conversations they were in the middle of. You think there is a smirk on Fives’ face but it goes away as soon as you notice it. Thinking nothing of the matter, you’re about to walk back to the other room when Fives and Kix call for you. 

“Say General, we heard you and the other Generals like to play pranks on each other all the time. Is that true?” Fives asks and you narrow your eyes at him briefly, wanting to know why he was questioning you about this all of a sudden. 

“Y..yes, why do you ask?” You cross your arms and scan the room, wondering why everyone became quiet and were intently staring at you. 

“Well, we just didn’t peg you for someone who- well, you know.” He rubs his neck and refuses to finish whatever he was about to tell you. 

“What? You think I don’t know how to have fun?”

“We didn’t say that, it’s just-” Kix starts to respond but you shake your head at him, silencing him instantly. You study the rest of the men quickly before smiling at Fives’ sudden anxiety. 

“It’s okay if you think I’m boring. I just don’t see the point of revealing all my cards at once, especially when I know I can have a bit of fun being sneaky.” 

“That sounds nice and everything General, but I just don’t believe you.” Fives takes a step forwards and trails his eyes down your form, smirking to himself when he sees that he has your undivided attention. 

“Is that right?” You raise a curious eyebrow at him, completely missing the way Kix was looking around the room and telling everyone to get ready. 

“I think you’re all bark and no bite.” Fives adds for extra measure, barely managing to hold back from laughing when your expression turns less playful and more dangerous. 

“Hmm, watch and learn boys.” It’s all the warning they get before you’re walking towards the kitchen and filling up a large pitcher of water with ice cold liquid, grabbing a handful of ice cubes from the fridge while chuckling at the shift in expressions suddenly taking over the room. 

“The key for a good prank is, you do it when your target is unsuspecting.” You whisper to them as you make your way to the refresher and unlock the door as softly as you can. The sound of running water fills the silence of the room and you smile one last time at Fives before you take a few steps into the cloudy space. Again, you’re so invested in making no sound that you miss how each of the clones prepares to exchange the figda they managed to steal from the rooms they’ve stayed in. Turning one last time to look at Fives and Kix, you purse your lips and stand on your tiptoes, barely managing to hold back from laughing as you tilt the pitcher and empty its cold contents on Ahsoka. 

Or, the person you thought was Ahsoka. 

“Ahh fucking hells,” the sound of a rather gruff, angry man breaks the silence of the room and you look back in horror as you see Boost and Sinker double over in laughter while Kix and Fives pull Ahsoka from underneath the bed. 

You drop the pitcher from your hand, and as you try to leave the refresher, a hand reaches out from behind the shower curtain and grabs onto your wrist. You look down in shock and fear, already knowing who the man behind the curtain is and trying to think of anything to tell him once he realizes it was you who just ruined whatever little break he was probably attempting to enjoy. 

“Come here,” he growls into the damp air and pulls you towards him, swearing beneath his breath when you topple over and fall at his feet. 

You know you should shut your eyes, perhaps even vomit a string of apologies at him so he doesn’t report you to the council for inappropriate behavior. But the quick movement sends your head flying into the wall and you scream out in pain before you reach for the back of your head while yelling at him to calm down. 

“Calm down Wolffe, I didn’t know it was-” the words die in your throat as soon as you look up and see the Commander of the 104th in all his naked glory. You try not to roam your eyes across his impressive form, you really do, one look at his flushed face and suddenly shy gaze, and you know you have to look anywhere but above his neck. The sound of laughter and howling dies out the longer your eyes move down his body and scrutinize the tattoos etched all over his muscular torso. 

You’re not sure how long you sit there staring at him, but when he clears his throat and pushes his hands over his crotch, you remember quickly where you are and who it is you’re ogling, and you immediately look down and away from him. 

But not before you notice how much he has to stretch his palms and fingers so he can hide himself from your curious gaze. 

“G-general.” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think that Wolffe was turning a bit more submissive with the way he addressed you reluctantly.

“Commander, I uhhh…I didn’t know you had so many tattoos.” It’s not what you want to say, but it is what leaves your mouth as you try to take off your outer robes so you can hand them to the naked man standing not two feet away from you. 

“Kriff!” He swears at you, taking a few steps back so he doesn’t accidentally frighten you with how his body is reacting to your proximity. 

“Sorry no, I mean- I…I didn’t know you were the one in the refresher.”

“Who the hell did you think was in here?” You’ve known Wolffe for a long time. Granted you never spoke with him as often as others, but you knew him well, like how he tends to become when he’s embarrassed or uncomfortable. 

He doesn’t mean to sound so awkward or rude, but you knew that it was highly unlikely he’s ever experienced something like this, and he probably didn’t know what or how he should be behaving, especially since one of his commanding officers was now in the refresher with him. 

“It d-doesn’t matter any way…I’m so sorry, I wouldn’t have- ah, kriff it. Just take this for now until I decide how I’m going to deal with that shabuir.” You throw your robe at him and force yourself to turn away while he hides behind the wet fabric. 

“Fives or Boost?” He asks as he stops moving, making you turn around to look at him as you answer his question. 

“Ahsoka!” You mutter out in anger, not missing the way he smiles and avoids your gaze when he sees you looking into his eyes again. 

“Well, I hate to break it to you but…whatever it is the General did, I’m sure Five and Boost are in on it as well.” He’s trying to diffuse the tension, that you know for sure, but you still can’t help yourself from studying the tattoos visible to your eyes. You wonder briefly if he’d ever said anything about them before, but you quickly remember who it is you’re thinking about and you shake your head in response. 

“Something on your mind, General?” Wolffe’s tone shifts a little, and when you finally meet his gaze again, you find something strange looking back at you. 

Something way too sensual and intimate to be considered as just friendly. 

“I was just thinking that- umm, I was wondering if you had ever told me about your tattoos and I just forgot or-” You gulp nervously as soon as you notice him tilt his head to the side and stare into your eyes. His jaw clenches tightly and you follow the movement down, watching with fascination as the muscles on his neck and chest flex when they feel you settle on them.

“Hmm,” Wolffe hums lowly as he takes one step towards you, making you back away from him underneath the running water again. 

“Or if…” You can’t find the rest of the thought, unable to focus on anything but the way Wolffe was pretty much eye-fucking you now. 

“Or what…General?” The honorific rolls off his tongue so lewdly, making you nearly trip over the rest of your robes and topple over again. 

You feel a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist in an instant, preventing you from hitting your head again. Grabbing onto Wolffe’s shoulders, you blink hazily a few times before you slowly look up into the Commander’s eyes. He’s abandoned the cloak you gave you, leaving himself completely bear to your hungry needs. 

You’re about to ask him if he is just toying with you like the others when you hear a couple of them whisper just from outside the door. Wolffe glances to the side and narrows his eyes at the men behind the curtain. When he turns back around to look at you again, he finds you completely enraptured by him. He smiles down at you, nudging your nose with his own before laying the softest of kisses near the corner of your mouth. 

“Why don’t you be a good girl for me and shut the door, mesh’la?” 

His question doesn’t make much sense to your dazed mind, and you reach up to try and properly kiss him, but he averts his face and leans down to bite into your throat, chuckling to himself when your breath hitch and you dig your nails into his shoulders. 

“As much as I’d love to give the boys something to talk about, I am a selfish man baby…and I want you all to myself.” He whispers against you as he begins to unravel all the knots keeping your body from him.

“Be a good girl, and shut the door…or do you want them to watch me fuck you hard like the sweet Jetii’ika I know you are?” Your knees give out as soon as he growls those filthy words in your ears, but Wolffe’s hold on you prevents you from falling yet again. You want to punch him for being so smug and chuckling at you, but you know that you wouldn’t have him any other way. The way he squeezes your hips lights a fire in your chest, and your breathing grows erratic as soon as he slides one hand around your back and pushes your body into his own, giving you a taste of what’s to come.

“W-Wolffe, please.” You plead with a whine, parting your lips for him as he leans down and hovers his mouth over your own.

“Shut the door, cyar’ika…and I promise you I’ll deal with them later.” Not a second later, the door to the refresher slides shut suddenly, making half of the men outside scream rather embarrassingly. You giggle along with Wolffe, but the laughter dies when you notice the way he's staring at you.

Licking your lips, you throw your arms around his neck and pull yourself up until you’re at eye-level with him.

“What if…what if I want something else?” You ask right before molding your lips with his own in a heated kiss. You feel Wolffe harden against you, his fingers trying to unfasten your robes from your body while the other hand combs into your hair and tugs on it harshly.

“Hmm, maybe you’re not a good girl after all.” Wolffe teases as he pushes your cloak and shirt down your shoulders, ripping the corners of them as he tries to get them off quickly.

“Believe me Commander, I can be whatever you want me to be…on one condition.” You giggle when he kneels down and grumbles in irritation at how difficult it is to remove the wet fabrics from your body. He ignores you until he’s rid you of what you’re wearing, the only thing shielding you from his eyes clinging deliciously around your hips.

“Name it sweetheart.” Wolffe promises, refusing to keep his hands off of you as he stands to his height and trails his hands across your nude skin.

“I want your cock, I want you to fuck me so hard till I can’t remember anything but your name.” Wolffe stands there without uttering a single sound, studying you closely to make sure you are confident in what you want from him. He can feel you scratch along the tattoos over his arms and chest, and he reminds himself to ask you later which one you liked most. He roams his gaze across your features, pretending to go for another kiss and twisting you in his arms as soon as you shut your eyes in surrender.

He shoves you against the cold wall, holding your arms above your head and thrusting his hard cock in between your ass cheeks when you try to wrestle away from his hold. You try to glance to the side but Wolffe sinks his teeth into the back of your shoulder, causing you to cry out in ecstasy and pain from the sensation.

“Ah fuck, p-please Wolffe.” He’s all hard muscles and heated skin against your back, making you wish you weren’t currently on a mission so you can worship him like he deserves. 

“That’s it mesh’la, beg for me.” You think he’ll toy with you longer, the thought making you whine and moan more for him more, hoping that the sounds you’re making are enough for him to end your misery and fuck you into oblivion.

But then he grabs his cock and slips it underneath the band of your panties, and you hold your breath in anticipation, preparing yourself for how full you will feel when he finally shoves his dick into your heat and fills you to the brim. 

“C-Commander, please…use me.”

It’s all Wolffe needs to hear to step over the invisible line that’s long separated the two of you from giving into your desires. 

“Sir yes sir.” 

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe/reader #commander wolffe #wolffe/reader #wolffe x reader #cc 3636 x reader #cc 3636/reader #the clone wars #star wars #commander wolffe smut #wolffe smut

[marymunchkiin]

CLONES IN SUITS | COMMANDER WOLFFE

(POV: You were already waltzing with a trooper when a foreign hand swipes yours from him mid-twirl. "Sorry vod, I'll have this dance." Wolffe appeared out of nowhere, stealing you. Flabbergasted, the trooper stands confused in the middle of the dance floor, watching as a smirking Commander Wolffe whisks you away.)

Version without shadows:

Art inspired by the song "So This Is Love: Waltz" 💗 -----

I might have gone a little extra on Wolffe here 🤣 the clone commanders ideally will have a different suit color scheme compared to the others so that they stand out as officers. ☺️

Taglist: @riinoaheartilly @mamuzzy @freesia-writes @amorfista @cloneloverrrrr @wolffegirlsunite @askwenjing @moonlightwarriorqueen @sunshinesdaydream @advisorsnips @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @fictionalmenjusthitdifferent @corona-one @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @flyiingsly @insertmeaningfulusername @jgvfhl @n0vqni @naganna418 @techs-goggles9902 @starrylothcat @and-loth-cat @doctordoombignaturals @lune-de-miel-au-paradis -----

*For a look at the finished portraits so far, see this post here UwU

**If you'd like to be added to the taglist, feel free to let me know and I'll add you. thanks! 😘 <33

***Next on the list is Crosshair followed by Bad Batch Echo

#clones in suits #commander wolffe #marymunchkiin art #clone commander wolffe #clone wars #tcw fanart #sw the clone wars #tcw #tcw art #clone wars wolffe #tcw wolffe #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #star wars clone wars #clone wars fanart #star wars the clone wars #sw #sw fanart #cc 3636 #q

[sev-on-kamino]

✨Cadet Daze: The CCs Are Too Observant✨

Summary: Your ongoing war with Alpha-17 has not gone unnoticed by the cadets in your care, and they have questions.

Players: Medic!Reader, cadet!Wolffe, cadet!Fox, mentions of Alpha-17 and cadet!Rex

Rating: G (but this page is still 18+ only, so MINORS DNI)

Warnings: Swears, cute & fluffy, totally safe for Costco though 😌

A/N: This is in the same timeline as this post (it’s incredibly NSFW!), and while I likely won’t do a concentrated long fic, keep an eye out for more one shots 💙💙

Word count: 281

Dividers by the talented @dystopicjumpsuit 🤩

The CCs in your care were honestly quite adorable. 3636 had twisted his ankle during training, and needed to go to the med bay, which meant that 1010 also needed to go to the med bay for a life-threatening stomach ache that he had just noticed. That he was holding 3636’s hand, as they both clutched your sleeve was completely unrelated.

With Alpha, they were soldiers always. With you, they were children, who needed to be reminded that kind touches were valuable too, so 3636 was being treated to a rare piggyback ride through the stark white halls of Tipoca City.

“MoMo?” 3636 asked quietly, using the nickname that 7567 had given you much to Alpha’s eternal irritation.

“Yes, kiddo,” you replied.

“Why do you and Alpha fight so much?”

Before you could answer, 1010 piped up and said, “‘Cause MoMo says he’s an asshole!”

“Where did you get that language?” You asked, trying to hide your smile.

“From you. I heard you say it to Lama Su the other day,” He replied with his signature smirk.

“Eavesdropping again, huh?”

“It’s fun!” He giggled.

“Is that the only reason?” 3636 asked, undeterred.

“We disagree on what’s best for you boys, but ultimately that’s what we both want. We’ll figure it out,” you answered.

“If you both want the same thing, shouldn’t you try being friends?”

“Ad’ika, have you memorized all the components to a light cruiser, as well as you’ve memorized all of the problems Alpha and I have to work on?”

“Yes! I can tell you all of them right now!”

He launched into the list, sparing you from further questioning as the three of you continued down the corridor.

***

taglist: @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @dukeoftheblackstar @rexxdjarin @wolffegirlsunite @808tsuika @sleepingsun501 @starrylothcat @ladyzirkonia @wings-and-beskar @pb-jellybeans @clio3kantarella @staycalmandhugaclone @stardusthuntress @idontgetanysleep @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @anxiouspineapple99 @littlemissmanga @mandos-mind-trick @amorfista @kimiheartblade @freesia-writes @sinfulsalutations @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @multi-fan-dom-madness @the-bad-batch-baroness @mooncommlink @1vlouds @moonlightwarriorqueen @starqueensthings @dangraccoon @idoubleswearimawriter @wizardofrozz @trixie2023

#series: cadet daze #clone cadets #commander wolffe #cc 3636 #commander fox #cc 1010 #alpha 17 #captain rex #ct 7567 #alpha-17 x reader #reader insert #x reader #seven writes

[wizardofrozz]

Fire and Rain

Commander Wolffe x GN!reader, OC Sawbones

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: war, death, mention of violence, grief, soft Wolffe

A/N: I had a bad day and all I want is to listen to the rain while Wolffe comforts me. So that's how this fic came to be lmao. I hope you enjoy 🖤

Humanitarian missions were some of your favorites. You spent most of your time in the medbay, patching up troopers and avoiding the piercing eyes of the CMO. These missions allowed you to get off the Venator, to see something other than cold durasteel walls or Coruscant’s light-polluted skyline. Although, it wasn’t all joy and happiness. 

The small village was still smoking, crumbled buildings littering the streets. What was once a quaint town had been reduced to ash and rubble. Family homes and community trademarks were unrecognizable and the occupants could only stand by and stare longingly. 

The 104th had been tasked with delivering supplies, offering medical assistance, and searching for hazardous materials from the crash. The Separatist ship had broken apart in the atmosphere but it was close enough for it to start raining down debris on the unsuspecting villagers shortly after. You glanced around as the Wolfpack made their way into the heart of the town, your eyes lingering on the tents scattered around. A small child stood at the edge of the road, wide-eyed wonder written all over his face as troopers wandered past. His young face was streaked with soot but nothing could dampen the amazement shining in his bright eyes.

“Hey.” You jumped, turning toward the voice only to stare back at your own reflection in his visor. You couldn’t fight the urge to glance back at the child one last time before giving Wolffe your undivided attention. 

“Yes, Commander,” you replied, hoping the smile you offered didn’t look as forced as it felt. Even if you couldn’t see them, you could feel Wolffe’s eyes studying your face and you did your best not to buckle under the weight. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Wolffe replied and if you weren’t walking so close, you would’ve missed his soft sigh. Wolffe subtly turned his head, glancing around at the troopers walking in loose formation around him. The ghost of a smile crossed your face when you felt the muted brush of his fingers against your arm. 

“I’m alright,” you murmured, lightly bumping into him.

“For now,” he replied, almost quiet enough for you to miss. And he was right. Each step deeper into the smoldering remains of the village made your heart sink a little more. You took a long, deep breath, grimacing at the burnt taste that seemed to linger on your tongue. The second brush against your arm had you peering over at Wolffe, staring into his dark visor again as you blindly found his hand. He squeezed your fingers, a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone and you cherished the contact. 

It was going to be a long day.

It felt like you were going to fall over with the slightest gust of wind. Most of your day consisted of patching up the wounded in between passing out supplies. Everyone from children to the elderly had passed through your tent and each new person felt like another gut punch, draining more of your resolve. 

You glanced over your shoulder, noting that Sawbones was moving a bit slower too, and you braced your hands on the table in front of you. Staying in the med tent had let you keep your blinders on, saving yourself the heartache of watching of few of your boys carrying the lifeless bodies out of the rubble but you weren’t sure if it was actually better. Instead of seeing who you couldn’t save, you had to look into the eyes of the people they left behind. A small part of you found joy in helping them but nothing could take away the veil of grief that seemed the blanket them all. 

A harsh whistle cut through the air, making you jump hard enough to knock a box of bacta patches to the floor. You twisted around to find Sawbones watching you, his eyes narrowed slightly. 

“Yes, Bones,” you huffed, resting your hip against the table and crossing your arms. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You were too drained to contain your eye rolls, although, Sawbones’ blunt nature was nothing new to you. 

“Long day, same as you,” you replied, arching a brow. 

“That’s not all,” he countered, squinting at you. “Sp-” 

The sudden roar of voices from outside cut off the rest of his sentence and you both straightened. You shared a confused look with him before you broke into a jog with Sawbones on your heels. You sputtered the second you stumbled outside, blinking rapidly as you looked upward. The sky was hazing, a thick fog hanging over the village as rain pelted the ground, extinguishing the last of the fires littering the area. It took a few seconds for you to realize that the noise you had heard was the villagers celebrating. 

People of all ages were standing outside, smiling and cheering, rain soaking them to the bone but that didn’t seem to matter. Something as simple as a storm that, to you, would’ve felt like another kick to the face brought such joy to a village that nearly burned to the ground. You looked to your left, meeting Sawbones’ eyes before he looked out over the celebrating villagers. You could’ve sworn there was a faint smile on his face.

“Go rest. There’s nothing else we can do for them,” Sawbones murmured without looking at you. 

You thought about staying there but the rain was picking up, steadily soaking your clothing. Walking through the pockets of people filling the streets brought a wistful smile to your face, a smile that only grew as you watched the wolfpack join in. You found a supply tent on the edge of the settlement and ducked inside, shaking off any excess water clinging to your clothing.

The fabric of your shirt stuck to your skin, sending a chill across your skin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, glancing around at the crates of supplies, brightening a bit when you caught a glimpse of a GAR-issued blanket. The fabric was rough, meant for warmth over comfort but it was better than nothing. You wrapped the blanket around your shoulders as you wandered to the front of the tent again, holding the edges of the blanket under your chin so you could roll one of the flaps up. 

Lightning spiderwebbed across the sky, followed quickly by a loud clap of thunder that seemed to vibrate through your bones. There were easily a dozen things you could be doing but something about watching the unmatchable power of Mother Nature had you captivated. 

You were so absorbed in watching the rain that you didn’t hear the faint rustle from over your shoulder. A choked-off gasp fell from your lips and you tensed against the arms that wrapped around you. Your sluggish brain spiraled for a moment until you recognized the familiar vambraces and you sagged against him. 

“Hiding from all the fun, sweetheart,” Wolffe rumbled, kissing the crown of your head. 

“Says the man wearing a body glove that keeps him dry,” you teased, leaning back against Wolffe. 

“Mostly dry,” he corrected, his voice muffled as he hid his face against your neck. 

“Oh sorry, mostly dry.” The stress of your day still weighed heavily on you but the familiar press of Wolffe’s armor against your back brought you more comfort than you realized. A small smile lifted the corner of your mouth when he started to gently sway and you reached up to card through his damp hair. 

“How are you, darling?” And if that wasn’t a loaded question. You sighed, resting your temple against his head, letting yourself get lost in the rhythmic side-to-side movement for a moment. 

“I don’t know,” you finally confessed. Wolffe grunted quietly, urging you to continue. “I wish I could’ve done more.”

“You couldn’t have,” he argued gently, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I know,” you whispered, letting your hand slip out of his hair and down his face. Your fingers brushed the end of his scar and you leaned away, twisting around enough to see his face. 

“Hey, cyare,” he murmured with a half-smile. 

“Hey,” you breathed, resting your forehead against his with a sigh and letting your eyes fall shut.

“I know you wish you could save everyone,” Wolffe mumbled, pausing to kiss your nose, “but you can’t. However, you did a whole lot of good for the people that are still here.”

“You think so?” You squeezed your eyes shut as you turned to face him, loosely hugging his waist. 

“I know so,” Wolffe said with so much conviction that you had a hard time not believing him. You hugged him a little tighter when he shifted and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. “That bleeding heart of yours is one of the many reasons I love you.” 

“So you do have a list.” Wolffe’s quiet snort brought a smile to your face. The light tap on the underside of your chin had your eyes fluttering open, staring up at his mismatched eyes. There was a fond little smile on his lips as his eyes flickered around your face. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Before you could answer with another lighthearted remark, Wolffe leaned down, finding your lips with ease. It was a tender kiss yet it held an intensity that you’d come to expect from Wolffe. You broke the kiss when your lungs burned, desperate for oxygen, and you rested your forehead against his again. 

“I love you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I love you too.” Wolffe pecked your lips, starting to sway gently again, the pitter-patter of rain on the canvas tent acting as a melody.

The stress and heartache weren’t gone, far from it, but in that moment, wrapped in the arms of the man you loved, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The promise of a future that made all the pain worth it.

Taglist: @a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @msmeredithrose @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar (I thought you might like this 🫣)

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x gn!reader #commander wolffe #cc-3636 #star wars #the clone wars #commander wolffe fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #OC: CT-2697 Sawbones

[lune-de-miel-au-paradis]

Who you belong to

Summary: You plan a date night with Wolffe going to a concert for a band you both love. You decided to have some fun and choose a sexy, tempting outfit for your Commander. Turns out the lead singer had his eyes on you and Wolffe needs to remind you who you belong to.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW,18+ (minors pls don't read), biker!Wolffe, sorta possessive Wolffe, jealousy, fingering, kinda public sex, grinding, language, growling, biting, kinda dom!Wolffe, blowjob, Wolffe being Wolffe, soft Wolffe, feelings, mention of a real life band and band member, a few easter eggs as characters, mention of readers looks, a bit long  (I hope I haven't left out anything.)

A/N: This is a gift for my lovely dear also super talented writer (check out her fics!)  friend Gabi! 💖@cloneloverrrrr

I know you love Wolffe and this band so this is especially for you to enjoy! I wrote this in vacay so pls forgive me if I mistyped something. Also this is my first fics post for a very long time so pls be kind. And this is my first ever smuty, spicy fics so Im super excited but also anxious about it. I really hope you'll like it. (I like criticism, but only if you guys are kind and not rude.) And forgive me if something is not correct with the grammar because english is not my first language. There is gonna be a part 2. (smutty!) coming in this week. 

Moodboard made by me in Canva and pictures from Pinterest.

Pls enjoy! 

Satisfied, you looked at yourself in front of the three-part standing mirror. Today promised to be a particularly good day. You finished your job early, so you had time for a pleasant bubble bath and some pampering rituals, which only boosted your confidence even more. Somehow your feminine energies were at a high level today. Several of your customers asked what serum you use, telling you that your skin is almost glowing, and even your hair is shining brighter. Maybe it's the position of the stars, maybe it's the full moon, or even more so, the fact that you happen to be on a date with the hottest Commander of the GAR, Wolffe. Your Wolffe.

Hound introduced you to each other when little tooka kittens moved into the air vent of Fox's office. You were the only applicant who was willing to take in the black and orange colored kittens. Fox and Wolffe were having a few words over a cup of caf when you and Hound arrived at the office. As soon as Wolffe saw you, he knew it was over for him. He fell into you hard, deep and inexorably. He immediately introduced himself, and although you were a bit surprised at first by the approach of the grumpy intimidating clone, you noticed over a little time, the softening of his dark and serious gaze as he looked at you with his silver and whiskey colored eyes. 

You were the only woman who found a crack in his hard, cold armor and moved straight into his heart.

It's been half a year already that you are officially a couple. As far as the strict rules allow. (You had Master Plo's blessing, and that was all that mattered to you. Rules are meant to be broken, anyway.) 

Wolffe has to go on another mission tomorrow, but tonight is all yours. So you certainly had some great plans.

A couple of scented candles in your apartment that made the air smell of pumpkin and cinnamon in honor of the coming autumn. Several outfits have been prepared for your black gothic styled bed and on the soft velvety blankets. The black kitten was sleeping curled up on the cushion of your reading chair. While you swept the orange one off the bed yourself. The little mischievous one really wanted to play with the shoulder strap of the small bag you chose to go with one of the dresses.

Your nails matched your lipstick, which was exactly the same dark rich burgundy as the spicy sweet wine you were sipping while getting ready, and it matched the  love bite marks that Wolffe gave you on your last evenings together. Little gifts, or you can say reminders of who you belong to, and how much he craves you. You loved them, even though they started to fade away a little.

"So it's a good excuse to get some more" you thought cheekily. 

You looked at the outfits, you weren't sure which one to wear, but you were sure of two things you definitely gonna wear. Your new long black vinyl jacket with matching boots and your new black lacy underwear set . The make-up was done, your hair smelled of your favorite shampoo and fell softly in raven black locks on your back, you had already put on your underwear and boots, both of which were surprisingly comfortable. You also talked to two girlfriends on comm.

All three of you lived far from each other, in different rims but you still made time for a little chat several times a week.

You met on a platform where several blogs ran stuff about clones (how little rights they have, how can their situation be helped, what is like dating in such straight circumstances.) and you've been good friends ever since.

One of them used their connections and gifted you two tickets to the concert of your favorite band. You and Wolffe were both fans of Bad Omens, so you couldn't wait for tonight to start. You just asked their advice on what to wear.

"Whatever you choose, knowing the Commander, you won’t be wearing it for long." teased one of them. 

Starting with this, an idea occurred to you!

Risky and bold, but it can turn out well...

You knew that Wolffe would arrive soon, so you said goodbye to your girlfriends and sipped the remaining wine from your glass, making up your mind confidently. You threw your clothes on the floor and only put on your coat. It was perfect: the size, the material, plus it covered enough to not get into an awkward position, as it was long enough. You sprayed a little perfume on yourself, which made you know that Wolffe would only go crazy for you. 

Wolffe had a bike, but not just any speeder bike. It was a big, solid, black, shiny, sport bike. He worked hard for it and put aside all the credit so it could be his. It was his treasure that was guarded with fear until he got to know you. After all, you took the first place in his heart. Anyhow he took great care of her and often maintained her, giving her the name Selene, which is basically the moon goddess in mythology. Until he knew you, she was the only one he cared about, and yes, he even howled sometimes when he drove with her on the capital roads.

He stored it in the small garage belonging to your apartment, which you allowed him to do and for which he showed his gratitude so many times in the form of kisses.

Right now, leaning on the motorcycle, you watch as the person of your desires and love approaches you.

Instead of his usual GAR gear, he wore black pants, boots, and a leather jacket. Smelling like a divine god, woody musk mixed with leather, amber and a hint of bergamot. An elixir that made you crave him more and more every time. 

"Hey handsome. Care for a ride?" you teased him. 

"With a woman like you? Always mesh'la. I will even go to hell with you, it will be heaven for me as long as you are mine and I can kiss you on those lush lips of yours."

You shuddered when you saw his eyes darken, and his seductive tone only made you more aroused. You loved everything about his voice, its depth, the accent, the way he whispered those sinfully sexy words into your ear every night when you were together in his own language.

He wrapped his two strong arms around your waist and kissed you passionately. You haven't seen him in a week, so the kiss quickly turned into tongue and teeth kinda kiss. With this kind of kiss, the world ceases to exist, it's just you and the butterflies in your stomach are about to burst out of excitement and there is only him. His honey-like taste in your tongue, his scent in the air your lungs breathe in, his grip in your body that makes you crazy and his love for you that makes you so utterly obsessed with him. 

You just stayed like that for a while, not paying attention to the outside world, lovingly kissing freely like young lovers. When you separated, both of you were gasping for air and your foreheads touched.

"Miss me that much Commander?" you asked

“So. Very. Kriffing. Much.” 

After every word, he planted a kiss on your lips, emphasizing his truth.

You both put on your helmets and biker gloves headed towards one of the downtown nightclubs on the lower level.

Wolffe drove fast, took the corners confidently, but with certainty. You loved riding a motorcycle with him, the excitement, the feeling of freedom, the fact that your body was almost completely smoothed over his. Wolffe promised that he would teach you to ride a motorcycle after the war, but you knew that together with him you liked riding much more. On the way, the pack members appeared on both sides, Sinker and Comet saluted and waved, and Boost boosted past you at full speed balancing on a rear wheel, all of them howling. You laughed as Wolffe shifted into higher gear more enthusiastically. You thanked the Maker for the hair foam that, when you apply it to your hair and drive at such a high speed, the air creates wonderful tangle-free volume in your hair.

With the tickets, they let you in out of line and you were already inside. Smoke machines and flashing red lights made the concert halls vibe. Upbeat music played that became one with your heartbeat. You chase out several acquaintances in the crowd, to whom you waved enthusiastically. You saw members of the Corrie guard, some troopers from the 501th and the 212th battalions. 

“You look amazing my dear. Absolutely stunning!”

When you heard the familiar chuckle, you turned to Gregor with a big smile as he winked at you from the center of a lady's wreath. He greeted you with two kisses on the cheek, which caused most of the ladies gathered around him to frown glumly with their colorful lips. But you didn't care, you and Gregor were good friends before you got together with Wolffe.

"I see you are not bored. You have quite an amount of pretty ladies as company."

"Well, somehow I have to make up for the time I was gone. And they can't resist the famous 'Gregor charm'." 

When he did his iconic hair straightening motion one girl almost passed out, you just rolled your eyes laughing. Gregor took a good look at you and knew right away.

"Naughty girl! You're gonna kill this poor bastard with your sexiness. Has he noticed it yet?"

"Not yet."

"Good. Play your cards smart dear. And don't sit on cold benches!"

He planted another kiss on your cheek and returned to his ladies. Such a ladies man.

There was a kind of unspoken agreement between you two, when Wolffe was around Gregor would try to flirt with you. This made Wolffe a little jealous and left delicious bruises on your soft skin to your delight while fucking you to heaven. And Gregor's current lady was also jealous and gave the Captain what he wanted much sooner. A win-win situation.

Wolffe put his arms around you. You enjoyed the concert together. You sang the lyrics with the band, you danced as much as the crowd allowed. The music and the atmosphere permeated you completely. You were upbeat and happy, a gorgeous smile was on your face and sparkle in your eyes.

Wolffe looked at you and couldn't get enough of you. He adored you. He was kind of obsessed. Your beautiful appearance, which seems to have been made for him. Your raven and shiny silky hair, your pretty face, your soft and divine body. Your kind heart, which holds so much love. The care that you put in your friendships. The nurture care you showed for the adopted kittens. As you shower his newly acquired war scars with kisses. Your passion for your work. 

He didn't believe in his wildest dreams that he would ever be able to feel this way about someone. 

As he observed you lovingly, he noticed a small blush appear on your cheeks. Then he noticed how the band's lead singer looked at you. Noah kriffing Sebastian was ogling you like you were a delicious dessert to him. Wolffe knew he was your celebrity crush since you were young. Wolffe was no longer paying attention to the music, but to the way the singer almost sang to you, and that he even winked at you. This clearly had an effect on him, because the Commander decided it was time to act. There were two options. He rips out the musician's heart with his bare hands in front of you, or reminds you who you belong to.

Unfortunately, he wouldn't win much with the first move, as he would be arrested and convicted, which would be a lot of paperwork for Fox, leaving option number 2. He took your upper arm and gently but firmly led you out of the crowd and into one of the deserted corridors.

He pinned you to the wall, the cold metal cooling your back. He covers your mouth with his, hot and heavy.

"Wolffe! What's gotten into you?" you asked.

He didn't answer, he just studied your face in silence, the neon lights in the reflection of his cybernetic eyes only made him even more dangerously handsome. The shadows on his face highlighted his strong nose, high cheekbones and attractive lips.

"I decided it's time for a little reminder for you mesh'la. I see you're enjoying the concert too much."

"Yes it's amazing! Aren't you enjoying it?"

"Not really when that bastard singer have eyes on something he shouldn't. I see how he basically eyefucked you. Do you want it mesh'la? Want to fuck him? Don't even get me started on Gregor."

"No. I'm only yours, you know that."

You cupped his face and looked into his eyes, soon you realized regardless, you still get a little reminder how to behave. You smiled at him.

"Good. Now be a good girl, and open up." he commanded.

You obeyed, opened your mouth and looked up at him seductively through your eyelashes.

"Make them wet."

You sucked them in and you gently started to caress his fingers with your tongue and enjoyed the effect you caused him. His eyes are fixed on you, lustful and dark, he swallows, then takes them away from your lips and straight towards your hot, longing center.

That's when he discovers that you're not wearing pants or a skirt. You see the surprise slide across his face and then turn into a satisfied smile. He relaxes his free hand on the belt of the jacket as he unbuttons it, then discovers that you are only wearing your underwear under the jacket, and the thigh high boots. He almost growled with desire.

"Such a dirty girl. You're gonna be the end of me."

He basically groweld in your ears. While he pulled your panties to the side out of his kriffing way and started gently stroking your folds and found that sensitive spongy spot as he slid two fingers into you. You were already wet all evening from the excitement of your choice of clothing and the feelings of his closeness.

His fingers moved rhythmically inside you as he massaged your clit in circular motions with his thumb. You moaned loudly with lust.

"Funny Gregor said that too." you let out a chuckle.

Wolffe suddenly stopped with his motions, eliciting a moan of complaint from you at the lack of his fingers. He grabbed your chin with his fingers wet from your juices, squeezing it a little.

His veins on his neck straining from how hard he's clenching his jaws, the wild nearly homicidal look in those amber colored and silver dark eyes, you began to understand how he came about his name. It aroused you to no end.

"I'm only going to ask this once, and you better have a good answer for me, mesh'la. Who does this pussy belong to? Who do you belong to?"

Maker, you were a whimpering mess, you wanted him so bad to take you right here right now while the concert still plays in the background and with the excitement that anyone could caught you in this position.

"You. Only you Commander." you said

"Will you think about other men when I'm pleasing you?" he asked in a gentle tone but from his eyes you saw how serious he was.

" Never. I'm only yours."

"Wouldn't you like anyone else to touch you like this? Hmm?"

He asked slowly oh so slowly circling your clit with his free hand, the other kept you still by the jaw.

"Are you wishing it was someone elses fingers inside of you? Noah Sebastian maybe? Or Captain Gregor? Do you think they make a better job at knowing you? Loving you like I do?"

His voice was low warm toned, it sent shivers down your spine.

He slipped to fingers in your tight aching cunt. You whined in pleasure wanting more, but he was torturing you with his sweet slow motions. Maker you wanted more.

"No there is only you. Only you my Commander. Oh, Wolffe, give me more! I need to come so bad. I don't want anyone else but you. No rockstar."

"What about the Captain you want him?"

"No, I don't wish for Gregor. Only you my love."

"Good. Don't ever say his name while I'm inside you. Understand that pretty girl?"

You loved it when he spoke to you in his commanding tone.

"Yes."

"Yes, What?" He leaned in closer to you, your lips almost touched.

"Yes, Commander." you said and he let out a satisfied grumble which made your pussy twitch in answer.

Oh, how he loved hearing that rank roll off your lips. Just the thought of it made him rock hard. Just as much as you loved to hear his growls and moans.

You palmed his turgid length through his pants and earned some more pleasant noises from Wolffe.

His fingers begin to swirl on your sensitive bud, you open your legs wider to allow him better access, and let out a small gasp when he gently nibbles your ear. He can feel how wet you get by his movements. His fingers curl in you the way he knows it makes your knees weak you can't help it but to grind into his palm. He starts to explore your neck and jaw gently kissing biting and sucking delicious lovebites on your pale skin.  You can feel you're close to your climax as he moved his hand in you and rubbed on your clit, when he felt your inner muscles clench around him he let out a satisfied growl in your ear, when you decided to lean closer to him and lick a long stripe over his pulse.

"Fuck...Wolffe...I'm close.." you moaned.

"Then cum for me mesh'la, give it to me sweet thing..."

Your climax hit you hard and you felt so wonderfully helpless as the room spun and you saw stars, you heard the music from the still running concert show.

He still had his hand in you still hit that oh so sweet spongy spot to help you ride out your orgasm. Wolffe loved to make you cum. Feeling you fall apart in his arms seeing how beautiful you were and how vulnerable in those moments it turned him on like nothing else.

"Shhh you such a good girl." he shooted you and kissed your forehead. "But you have to earn another one. Is it okay for you sweet thing?"

"Yes. Please. Please I need to taste you Commander."

You knelt down, running your fingers gracefully along his thick muscled legs up towards the zipper. When your hand was on his hardness, you looked up seductively.

"May I Commander suck on your cock sir? "

"Yes you fucking may. I like it when you know how to behave. Good girls get a reward."

Some concern appeared on your face when you saw his huge cock bounce out from his pants. He was perfect and you became more aroused when you see the effect you made on him. You rubbed your red plum lips gently to the tip to smear his salty pre cum then you slid it fully into your mouth ever so slowly and Wolffe let out a sexy hoarse voiced moan. You welcomed him with wet hotness and a tight throat as you moved up and down on his shaft. You tried to take him further, still only getting half way.

Your mouth felt a little dry, since you had been singing and shouting at the concert so far. Wolffe caressed your face lovingly, then turned up your face by the jaw:

"I got you. Open up, pretty girl, let me help you."

You obeyed, you opened your mouth with your eyes closed and felt him kiss you passionately and spit in your mouth.

You couldn't take it, you reached down with your hand and played with yourself until you were now completely wet and hot and could let him into your mouth and suck on him rhythmically up and down. His head fell back in pleasure.

"Just like that...so kriffing good...so good with that pretty mouth of yours."

You gently wrung guttural moans from him. Holding his gaze was hard but something in his gaze just kept you there. You couldn't look away from him.

He had that lustful loving look on you full of feral and hunger for you. Only you can get this reaction out of him. Only you hold this power over him, that makes him rock hard and wild for you.

You enjoyed and valued this power, this connection you two had. Force bond? Fuck that! You two were so perfect, so meant to be. Fucking soulmates.

You might have closed your eyes for these sweet thoughts because you heard his command.

"Don't you dare look away from me mesh'la."

He was satisfied with your quick response because he gently grabbed your hair and with one hand he guided you on his cock.

"That's it, keep your eyes on me. I want you to watch me as I fuck that pretty mouth. "

He couldn't have looked away if he tried to. The way his cock disappeared in and out from your mouth, as your talented tongue worked on him it almost made him lose his mind. If he was gonna die this is the way he wants to leave this life, with you, inside you. Loving you.

"Ah sweetheart I'm close... Will you be good and swallow? You can say the safe word if you want to stop."

You worked on him with more passion and gripped his hips as an answer.

You knew exactly what made him feel heavens, what movements he needed to tip over the edge and cum.

Your pace quickened and your tongue too, his grip tightened in your hair and his moans were louder.

You didn't care about the world around you, what mattered is the two of you, to bring pleasure to each other. And luckily he  chose a well hidden corridor. So you weren't disturbed.

He came hard, his head fell back, eyes closed growling like a real wolf. His salty warm cum came down your throat as you swallowed all of it. He looked down on you with lovesick eyes.

You looked so lovely, your mascara a bit smeared from your tears, your mouth is red glistening with his cum, your hair is messy and your eyes full of emotions.

He helped you up, kept you close to him, kissed you with love and passion.

"I'm so crazy for you mesh'la."

He whispered to your locks when he gave you a forehead kiss. You hugged him tight, intoxicated with his warmness and his cologne.

"Should I help you with something?"

"I just go for a quick touch up in the bathroom." you said.

You went into another corridor with still wobbly legs and acknowledged that there was no line in frotnt of the bathrooms so the show must be still going on.

You only saw a pretty lilac twilek girl press Gregor to the wall kissing him furiously. When he saw you he held his fist out and you fist bumped it while going in the ladies room.

You cleaned yourself up, put on another coat of lipstick, wiped away the smeared mascara and noticed all the lovely bruises your Commander gave you. Your neck was full of maroon colored lovebites, they were very noticable and very sexy on your skin. Wolffe guaranteed everyone saw he marked his territory.

When you went back he was waiting for you, and when you entered the crowd again he whispered to your ear as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Don't worry mesh'la the night isn't over yet. I have some plans for you after the concert. When I'm done with you my love, you won't even remember your own name."

...

Part 2. is coming soon!

#commander wolffe x reader #fem!reader #reader insert #commander wolffe #commander wolffe smut #star wars #wolffe x reader #biker!wolffe #cc 3636 #nika's first post

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Poets and Painters (Midday) - Wolffe x Reader [Mature Fic]

Warnings and Information: In desperate need of just one day to take his and his men's mind off the war, Plo Koon orders that everyone make a stop on a relatively uninhabited planet in a peaceful sector of the galaxy to… have a picnic? Just what does he have in mind? A certain flint-gray Commander is finding it hard to believe that they're just on the planet for a day of R&R in the middle of a war, so he isn't letting his guard down. Perhaps someone will help Commander Wolffe find some way to help him relax before the day is over… 2nd person POV. Reader is undescribed save for minor details like personal touches to a uniform, and has a gender-neutral alias. Allusions to canon-typical violence, mention of injury and loss, and Plo just being a dad to the 104th Battalion in the background. Swearing. Discussion of more adult themes and some lewd jokes the more the fic progresses (this is not an Explicit fic but it is Mature; Minors please DNI). Takes place on a fictional planet.

Word count: 4,665

The trick to keeping Commander Wolffe from prowling the edge of the clearing like a caged animal had been surprising. To everyone. 

Allowing him to watch you work keeps him seated on the hill beside you, where he does not worry his brothers or Master Plo Koon by continuing to make lap after lap. He had left your side once, to take a look at something the Clone pilot Warthog had to show him, and then did a little shiny-wrangling (namely Soapsuds) because they were too close to the forest for his comfort, but he was quick to return. 

He's not much of a conversational partner, whether that's out of respect for you to let you concentrate, or simply a product of his personality. When he has something to say, Wolffe keeps it brief. 

"I'm not that pale." 

"But your scar is." you reply with a gentle smile and a soft laugh, carefully adding traces of a lighter flesh-tone to the vertical stripe of scar tissue in your sketching of the Commander. You keep your pressure light on the page, and make your best efforts to keep the strokes in roughly the same orientation. The smile gives way to a frown the longer you fill in the length of his scar on the page. Your heart hurts for what happened to him at the hands of a dark Force-wielder. What her blade did to him. "I imagine it was quite painful, to lose your eye…" 

"Yes." Wolffe replies in a clipped voice, suggesting to you that while he does not want to dismiss your sympathies, he clearly must not want to talk about this with someone he does not know, either. You feel a tug on the lapel of your uniform, and the gloved pad of his thumb brushes over something. Oh. You'd forgotten about that. "You added a wolf's head into your uniform, Arcadia?" He's changing the subject. And that's okay. 

That's more than okay. 

Glancing down best you can, you see the sloppy replication the flint-gray Commander refers to. The thread used for the head is a steely gray, the stitches are almost invisible and camouflaged in the color of the uniform, save for the eyes in your favorite color. It was meant to be practice for repairing holes in your clothing, you explain. "For emergency situations. I wanted to see if my stitches would hold up after being washed. I completely forgot it was there." You don't explain why you went with the image of a wolf. You won't need to, in his presence.

It's easy enough to guess why this would be the animal, of all possible choices available to you in this galaxy, you would stitch into your lapel. The name surrounds you. Wolfpack. General Plo's callsign is Wolf Leader when they engage in battle by starfighter. 

It is the name of the man next to you - granted it bears an additional forn and an esk. 

Wesk-osk-leth-forn-forn-esk. 

Wolffe. 

"It held up well." he compliments you, releasing the fold of the lapel and assuming his silence once more. Degree by degree, you are seeing he is not eternally gruff or cold with you, or anyone: merely a man made stoic and far more vigilant than before by war. In his vigilance, he continues to visually sweep the field for signs of trouble or mischief. 

Maybe, while he's distracted…

You stealthily swap out the current coloring pencil in your hand - a deeper skin tone - and pluck out the Lamp Black pencil in the mix, drifting your hand lower down the page until the end of the pencil was now lined up with the loosely defined crotch and codpiece of his armor. 

Maker alive let's just get this over with. 

The body glove is going to be innocent enough to fill in, but defining the shadows around the pubic bulge in his kit will be faster. Just keep it quick and be discreet. Work fast. Hope no one sees. Hope no one asks. 

Your pulse screams in your veins when he clears his throat - loudly - next to you, and you are so certain he is now trained on you, and acutely aware of where your pencil is. "Hm-mm…" Oh kriff me sideways. "Excuse me," he apologizes, clearing his throat again softer this time, "didn't mean to startle you, but I was trying to catch Suds' attention." Thank the Maker he didn't look when he apologized. Just a few more marks to finish shading in the codpiece, and then you can start on the body suit. "O-oh. Is he wandering off again?" 

"Looked like he was about to." 

Still breathing down their necks even from here? "Y'know-"

"As their Commander I am going to look out for my brothers, Arcadia." He sounds neither happy or unhappy with what he assumed you would say. And it's fair of him to assume that, in a sense. You only wish he didn't have to feel so defensive. 

"I understand that," you promise him, and for the moment, you set down the pencil in your hand so you are not dividing your attention between the artwork and Wolffe. "and I wasn't telling you to stop, either. I only wanted to warn you that, I think, General Plo Koon seems worried about you, that something is keeping you from enjoying yourself." 

To his credit, he gives your words a moment of quiet contemplation. Whether that's to consider the truth behind the words you said, or to come up with an explanation of sorts, Wolffe remains silent and still like the forest that surrounds you on all sides. What secrets does that forest hold? What lives within? 

What will you find other than sap and blood on your palms when you pull back the thorny branches? 

"I don't believe we're here just to relax for a day." Commander Wolffe admits with a heavy look of guilt and uncertainty. "I think the General has other reasons for bringing us to Little Archossi, and he won't tell us." 

"Reasons? Like what?" You pick the pencil back up, and return to the slow, gradual task of adding color to the page. You're going to give him time to think. Time to answer, if he even wants to. He may not. Warning him that he's possibly made his General concerned about him seems to shake him down, somewhat. "I'm sorry." 

It's reflexive, apologizing for upsetting him. That seems to pull him out of his silence, for the moment. "Don't be, Arcadia. I'm not going to fault you for having good intentions. Or a good eye." 

The kri-? 

In dawning horror, you see and fully realize where your pencil lead is. And looking over at him, you see that he does too. "I-I'm so sorry, sir…" You admit that you hoped he wouldn't notice, and that adding the necessary shading and color around areas that carry their shares of suggestive and sexual imagery and connotations would have been completed with as little attention drawn to it as possible. While you're not exactly ashamed to have drawn those parts of him, you feel a bit awkward to have him take notice of your work when you add the color. 

Half of his mouth quirks in a smile, an expression of his respect, understanding that took guts to admit. "That's nothing to apologize for. It's just part of the art, Arcadia. A little "awkward" would only be understandable. Would you feel better if I purposely didn't watch?" 

Well, seeing as how you're almost done with the inner thigh, you don't see much of a point to the gesture in this part of the progress. But, he did offer. And this seems to be what's keeping him seated in the grass. And what's keeping Plo Koon freer to spend less time being concerned about his diligent commander, and more time in showing his troops more aspects of Kel Dor culture and history, it seems. (Orchid keeps asking questions that Tack could easily answer about Dorin, and it serves as a neat little lesson for some of their newer shinnies. Plo is certainly grateful for the curiosity that allows him to be a teacher, rather than a fighter, today.) 

You shrug lazily, laughing softly under your breath. "I'll leave that up to you, sir. At this point…" 

Wolffe chooses to keep an eye on his brothers, so you make the process of shading the inner thighs quick, while being careful not to get sloppy. You're not trying to recreate a master painter's work here in the first page of your sketchbook, but you don't want to look at this one day and become filled with the urge to tear it out because all you can see are glaring imperfections, either. That's nothing but a fanciful daydream of making so much progress in your artistic prowess that you would ever be struck with such a thought, of course. 

You are preoccupied with a war against the Separatists: when would you ever have the chance to make regular progress and impressive strides without backsliding and the natural degradation of your skills when you do not use them? You're a small part of the busy crew that keeps the Triumphant running smoothly. 

People constantly need you. And that's all well and good, but sometimes you find yourself running into the same problem over and over again that crews of this size inevitably face: when you, who provides the help, needs someone, who is there for you? Do you turn to another crewmate who is already up to their neck in all the problems they juggle? Turning to one of the Clone troopers is ill-advised, no matter how much they swear they don't mind lending a hand or an arm (or two) to assist. 

You've been doing fine aboard the Triumphant; better than fine, in fact. But that worry claws at you, sometimes. I'm here to help everyone. But if I needed help, who would I go to?

Who does the Commander go to when he needs help, come to think of it… General Plo? Or maybe Sergeants Sinker and Boost, if the matter was a little closer to the heart, something he believed was best kept between brothers? 

Who does Wolffe turn to in his hours of need, you wonder. 

You need to rest your wrist, and soon. You have just a little more of this tree's canopy to color in though, and then you're calling it good. You've been working on this "sketch" for more than three hours with the Commander at your side. You want to have this done soon. You want to go check out some of these things other crewmates have been laughing themselves silly over for the last hour that leave them gasping and wheezing for breath, clutching their sides and drying their faces. You're burning to know what's so funny, why they keep calling your name to come see. 

Curiously guessing over and over what General Plo's reaction will be when you show him this amateurish endeavor in outdoor art drives you to continue, however. Just a few more tiny, feather-shaped leaves… Wolffe notices the sharp twinge in your face, and the uncomfortable spasm in your fingers as you adjust your grip around the Sunflower coloring pencil. 

"Getting painful?" 

"Just a little." you admit, knowing if you pause now, you will delay when you pick the pencil back. "I'll manage." 

"Making art shouldn't bring you pain, Arcadia." 

You scoff, just slightly. "Physical pain? Agreed. But emotional pain, that's another matter. Don't worry, I'll be done soon, Wolffe." 

He asked you to call him Wolffe a short time ago. It wasn't exactly necessary to call him Commander or Sir all the time if you had him sketched out on your page quite like… that. His legs parted and bent at the knee - flat in the grass out in front of him. Wrist of the left hand resting just on the surface of his thigh, with his hand hanging limp just inches from his groin. You were generous enough to draw his fingers in a more neutral position than how they had looked in reality… Otherwise, if his soldiers and brothers got a hold of the sketchbook, there's no telling how many jokes you'd have to hear about making it look like their Commander was jerkin' it in front of you. 

Calling him "Wolffe" would do just fine when it was just the two of you alone on this hill. Perhaps he felt it was only fair if he was calling you by your name. You had no title or rank, like him. You are just a humble part of the crew, but he assured you no less important than one of the soldiers. 

It takes all of us, he said. That's how we win this war. 

You've come to the home stretch, feeling the ache in your fingers deepen with every tiny skritch and shwoop! as you methodically color in your work leaf by leaf. "Just one last, little leaf," you promise, "and then I'm done." 

"Not going to sign your magnum opus, Arcadia?" Wolffe prods a little teasingly. He's smiling at you now, even. Hours ago, he was somber and battle-ready, no smiles, no nonsense. Now, he's beginning to make small jokes. "Should add a signature so future museums know who to accredit this to." 

"A leaf and then a signature." you chuckle warmly. "Future museum… Honestly." He only offers a shrug in response to that, and you take it to mean well, you never know. "What, you're trying to tell me you think this would honestly end up in a museum gallery one day?" 

He shrugs again, gazing off into the distance, into the forest. "Overheard one of the boys in the mess say something about the notion once. Something they read. Some kind of commemorative effort made by one planet to make sure they never forgot their bloody history by way of art and song and poetry inspired by that time. Evidence of a time best not repeated, but not forgotten either." 

Such an insightful and wise thing to be said so casually, poetically, and yet, there's a weighty truth to every syllable and enunciation. 

We doom ourselves to repeat the past when we do not remember it and do not teach it anymore. When we allow ourselves to forget, the shades of rouge we sop the bristles of our brushes in will not be in the rich scarlets of Dathomir, or the forever-burning rubies of Mustafar, it will instead be with blood. 

When we have enough evidence, it silences the naysayers and the fools. It validates the choking and trembling voices that say I have tasted the bitter blade of war. I have stood before the yawning maw of nothingness it leaves in its wake. I will never be the same. You do not have the right to tell me that I am some kind of paid actor. 

If they were conspiracies, do you not think I would be among the loudest of your prophets who tout these twisted claims in the hopes of converting another?

"Fascinating. Thinking something like that will come of the Clone Wars, Wolffe?" You've finished the drawing, now. Taking an ink pen, you jot down your signature in the tidiest handwriting you can manage in the lower right corner, making note of the date for good measure. You'll think up a creative title for this later. 

There's a third rising and falling of the shoulders from the man sitting beside you. "It's too soon to tell." 

"That's fair." you reply, gathering up your supplies to put them back into the bag for safekeeping. "But you just know, if it does happen, the Separatists aren't gonna like the art." You have faith that the Republic will prevail. How could it not when the soldiers who fight for the Republic are some of the most courageous, persevering people you know? (What will come of them after?) 

You're likely right about that, he agrees with a throaty chuckle. The Separatists will not like losing this war, and they'll like the art even less. "I can only hope… that it will not just be the Jedi who are…" Wolffe grows silent next to you. He's not certain what word he wants to use to best explain his thoughts, he admits plainly. There are too many. Too many answers that are right, but he struggles to find the one thing that is most correct out of all of them. 

Given what Tack has told you, the answer is obvious. "You're hoping that the galaxy will remember the Clones were a part of this conflict too. That the galaxy won't forget the sacrifices made by your brothers, and they won't forget how many lost their lives. You probably hope that when the free peoples of the galaxy remember the Jedi, they remember you, too. Both must be appreciated together."

"You're probably right," Wolffe concedes firstly, "And you're too wise beyond your years, Arcadia." Strangely philosophical, he tells you, for how old he guesses you to be. Maybe he's the right one this time, thinking to yourself on his words. 

Maybe he's not the only one hoping that when this war ends, no matter the outcome, those who served as a part of the Grand Army of the Republic will not be a forgotten topic ten, twenty… even forty or fifty years down the line. 

Tack has made a breakthrough in his mysterious flower just before Master Plo is free to come take a look at the sketch and color work you've completed, and concern for his men takes precedence. You would not blame him in the slightest if he forgot he expressed interest in seeing what you accomplished with art materials given to you as gifts. Because of your station with the crew of the Triumphant with a secondary speciality for risk assessment, you're involved in this discussion with the researcher and his commander and general. 

Right now determining the risks posed to the men of the 104th matters more. Art and philosophical pondering will have to come later.

Tack explains to both Commander Wolffe and Master Plo that he thinks the smatterings of blue flowers that dot this clearing here on Little Archossi are known as Dinocaeruleus anthos. By their common-name, you know that these flowers are a warning. A silent, unassuming danger for all their beauty and silky blue petals. 

Terrible blue flower. 

"You can make toxic honey with these flowers?" Wolffe asks more to himself than Tack, as he reads ahead in the compiled information. Plo is taking his time to read the information on the screen of the datapad in his hands. To make sense of this, the Jedi is being thorough. 

"Poisonous, Sir, more accurately." Tack makes the correction habitually, and Wolffe does not take it personally. He knows that Tack knows what he meant, and given his aptitude for analytics and other such sciences, his researcher is not correcting him to be a smartass. "But, yes, you can make bad honey with these flowers depending on what pollinators you harvest from. They are not wholly dangerous on their own. Eat it, it might make you feel nauseated due to natural bitterants. Touch it to more sensitive dermal surfaces and it will prove a powerful irritant." 

From a short distance away, you hear the voices of Orchid and Soapsuds, Tack's batchmates (you assume), commenting on what the four of you are discussing in the shade of the tree you spent the morning sketching. "So what Tack's saying is don't stick your d-" The speaker finds himself with the other's hand anxiously plastered against his mouth to shut him up in a hurry. "Maker alive, shut up!" Soapsuds warns him, "Orchid, why are you so vulgar?!" 

There is a pointed sigh from Commander Wolffe that is aimed at the two of them. Don't make me come over there. Behave yourselves in front of the General. 

Plo makes no indication that he's noticed the situation occurring just out of reach. You have to imagine he hears Suds and Orchid wrestling with each other in the grass, now, though, and is ignoring it. "Arcadia and Tack, in your opinion, will these be enough cause for concern to consider returning back to the ship?" Plo wonders aloud. The Kel Dor returns the device to the researcher, and folds his hands together in an act of deliberate contemplation, resting them against his stomach. 

Tack looks at you, and you at him, then the Commander. There is a look in his eyes, both the stark silver and the warm vandyke brown, that reads to you as a surrender of control. 

I will carry out your judgment. 

Tack scoffs and shrugs, his arms thrown wide. "Honestly, General? I don't know enough. I'd need more time to determine through more analysis and comparison. This is only one search result for one flower it could possibly be. But it was enough of a match to make me get the Commander while he was talking with Arcadia." Enough of a match to send him into a tizzy over it. Tack had tripped coming up the hill in his haste, trying to ask if - from where he was sitting - the Commander noticed anyone messing with the blue flowers. 

We have a potential problem! had Wolffe on his feet faster than engaging a hyperdrive. And then there was a flurry of questions. Was it contact from the planet's inhabitants? Has someone gotten hurt? Are they needed to assist another battalion? Where's the General? 

He has the look again, now. Worry. The inner anxiety is eating him alive. Tack doesn't know. So what about you? 

"I see…" Master Plo hums. "And what are your feelings, Arcadia? What do you think about the situation?" 

You think. What do you think about this situation? Is it worth double checking the matches for the flower, to make sure that it really is Dinocaeruleus anthos? Are the men really going to be so flippant as to disregard any kind of warning put out about these flowers if they are the Dinocaeruleus, or worse yet, a far more harmful flower? (Not necessarily, but you have to consider that warning the troops that this flower can have detrimental potential invites the opportunity to inflict it.) 

There is one thing that is already clear to you, at least. "Tack should first make sure these flowers are what he thinks they are before we make any kind of advisory, General. That is my opinion." 

Another thoughtful hum. "Interesting. And why is this your opinion, little one?" 

"We should avoid unnecessary panic. Until we know for sure what these flowers are, I say we don't say anything. We invite unnecessary risks by making the men paranoid." you suggest, glancing first at the Jedi, and then the flint-gray Commander to his left. They had every right to accept or disregard your counseling as the commanding forces of this battalion at the day's end; you hope they will consider it at the very least. 

"I'm in agreement."

"Then we will do as Arcadia advised, and we will let young Tack take more time to confirm his findings. Until then…" Plo trails off, nodding decidedly. Thank the Maker. Tack dismisses himself in a hushed, hurried tone. If he's going to spend more time pouring over information on the Dinocaeruleus anthos, he shouldn't dawdle. The Jedi kindly wills the benefits of the Force to guide the researcher before he turns to address you once again. "Have you made use of the gifts given to you since we last spoke?" 

Blinking with a mild start, you realize that Plo has changed the topic. "Oh, yes, I have. Let me go get my sketchbook from my bag, sir." You scoop the entire bag from the grass, re-tucking your datapad among your things as you extract the book and turn it to the necessary page for his convenience. "Here." 

Taking it carefully in his hands, the book is cradled like a priceless relic as his eyes must trace over the page. Once more your property is treated with such care and respect by the Force-wielder. "My… Arcadia, you have quite a gift." 

The action is perhaps more childish than professional, but you cannot help but duck your head at such praise, fearing to meet his gaze should he see how flushed your face is. It is not the heat of the sun above you, denoting that it is now high noon, that makes your face burn. You're never quite sure how to accept a compliment. 

You opt for humility. "Oh, it's hardly that great, General Plo… I wouldn't say I have a gift… just… a-an attention for detail." And that much is true; dedication to detail is why you spent hours on a simple "sketch" to begin with; why you took so much care and effort to get everything done the best you could. The form of Commander Wolffe's armor. The curve of his jaw and the roundness of the ala of his nose. The correct texture of his hair within the typical haircut many of the Clones have. 

But though gentle insistence, the General repeats his sentiment. "Attention for detail is no less of a gift, Arcadia. In war it is a mark of wisdom, in art, it is a skill." A skill that has made for a very fine portrait of the Commander. "Have you seen Arcadia's work yet, Commander Wolffe?" He offers the sketchpad with an invitation to have a closer look, though it isn't necessary. 

"I watched Arcadia add the colors, yes." Wolffe confirms. "Quite the process."

Not to mention a strain on your wrist, but one well worth it for the praise given to you from the Jedi, and now many of the men who have congregated to come and suss out what's going on. "I can only imagine… Even gone through the trouble of adding proper shadows to such… rich color." 

Sinker and Boost smile softly, not quite sadly (but certainly somber), when they take note of the color of paint their commanding officer wears when you allow the book to be passed around so everyone is welcome to have a closer look. They hold it longest out of everyone, looking at this artistic replication a little more closely than most.

"The ol' maroon, eh? Think it's meant to depict another time, before Abregado?" 

"But he's drawn with the scar, Boost."

"Ah, yeah, good eye. Missed that bit." 

You timidly clear your throat to draw their attention, and explain that of all the colors, you didn't have gray. "I didn't want to leave his armor naked, either." Not when you went through the trouble of adding the face of the wolf and the other design to each of his shoulder pads, or the unique shape of his visor when you drew the helmet next to his hip. 

You would not deal him further, small cruelties by stealing the colors out of his coat completely. These markings he has chosen for himself mean something to Wolffe. The color he wears now is a mark of mourning. The color in the pages of your book will serve as an homage. 

You have not forgotten your brothers. You will always carry them with you.

Hmmf. Are you a poet now too, Arcadia?

No sir. Not really. 

You're uncertain where the words came from. Borrowed from something you read once? Did you perhaps hear the General say these words once upon a time? You can't recall what inspired you to say such a thing. 

But you'll remember the change in his gruff exterior, the way in which he was quieter than quiet for just a moment, and he pivoted in the grass to better face you and make you his equal. 

It's only the two of us here on the hill, Arcadia. Call me Wolffe, please. 

Don't have a fic taglist for the time being, but I'll likely start one soon if I can figure out how to make those forms some people have since I write a variety of stuff. For now, though, if you'd like to join a taglist for specific types of fics (example: just TBB-centric or just TCW-centric (or both)) don't hesitate to ask. 🩷

[Masterlist]

[Early Morning] [Here] [Late Afternoon] [Evening] [Deep Night] [Golden Dawn part 1]

[Golden Dawn Part 2]

#frostfics #Poets and Painters #star wars #star wars fanfiction #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars the clone wars #swtcw #tcw #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #gender neutral reader #tcw wolffe #commander wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #cc 3636 #cameos of #plo koon #104th battalion #tcw sinker #tcw boost #tcw warthog #clone oc: tack #clone oc: orchid #clone oc: soapsuds

[ironmandeficiency]

mama wolf

pairing: wolffe / reader

word count: 692

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[sleepingsun501]

100 word smut challenge! ✍

If you get this, you are being challenged to write the best smut you can in 100 words or less.

(Just for fun. Feel free to play or delete if you don't want to)

Oooh yes!! Challenge accepted!!

If you know me, you know it's gonna be clone smut.

NSFW below. MINORS SHOO!

You couldn’t think—you could barely breathe. That’s exactly what you wanted.

Wolffe’s sweat-slickened body pinned you down as one of his massive hands locked around your throat. With every rhythmic thrust into your soaking heat, he gripped you tighter and made you whine for air. Each time, you pulsed around his cock, aching for more.

“That’s my girl… feel so fucking perfect around me,” he praised.

You couldn’t reply with words, so you dug your nails into his back and scratched. Hard.

He let out a strangled, low growl that only made you wetter. “Oh, cyar’ika, do that again.”

#100 word smut challenge #anon <3 #anon answered #ask game #this was really fun #wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #clone commander wolffe #cc 3636 #star wars #the clone wars #commander wolffe smut

[wild-karrde]

I’ve been unleashed….😏

Spicy prompt:

Your lips make me wonder what you taste like

Hardcase? Hunter? Wolffe? Rex?

Soooooo is it self-indulgent if I write a prequel to another ficlet? This one specifically?

I DO WHAT I WANT.

+18 Wolffe x f!Reader under the cut (vaginal fingering, exhibitionism)

He was bold, you'd give him that.

Not that you hadn't helped push him to this point. You could feel his fingers digging into your hips as you slid closer to him in the small booth in the back of the bar. A passing waiter droid dropped another round of drinks at your table, and you gingerly took the flute of Naboo wine, noting how his mismatched eyes traced a line from your lips to your throat as you swallow. The chilled glass feels soothing against your kiss-swollen lips that he'd been nipping at on the dance floor for the past hour. You wonder where else he'd like to leave marks, and if they could all be hidden by your Jedi robes.

"See something you like, Commander?" you tease.

He leans forward, taking a sip from his glass of bourbon before setting it back on the table. He nuzzles against your throat, and you can feel the beginnings of his beard scrape against the skin there. You shudder as his warm breath ghosts over the shell of your ear.

"Oh, after the last hour, you've just got me curious."

"Curious about what?" you ask innocently.

You swear his voice drops another octave as he speaks directly into your ear, ensuring he'll be heard over the pounding bass of the 79s by only you.

"Your lips make me wonder what you taste like."

You shudder. Maker, you wish you had an apartment to drag him back to, but it would certainly be frowned upon to sneak someone into the temple. And he'd never go for it. But as his fingers grip the inside of your thigh a little tighter, an idea crosses your mind.

The booth is secluded enough. No one will know.

You take his hand in yours, clenching the tip of his glove between your teeth and pulling it off. You guide his bare hand back down to the inside of your thigh, shuffling closer in the booth and hoping he gets the hint.

"Would you like to find out?"

His fingers slide under your skirt, grazing where your panties are already soaked through.

"Right here?"

"Why not?" you challenge.

"Think you can be quiet for me?"

"Let's find out."

"Wicked little thing."

His cybernetic eye makes one more cautionary pass around the bar, ensuring no one is paying too much attention. Apparently satisfied, he smirks, going back to work at your neck.

"Spread your legs for me, love." You comply. "Good girl." Heat licks up your spine.

His thick digits graze against your clit, teasing through your panties until you whine. He chuckles darkly, but mercifully, you feel him push your undergarments aside and one finger begins grazing your folds.

"So wet for me already, huh?" he teases.

"Wetter on the inside."

"I'm counting on it." With that, he presses in. His finger is so thick. You stifle a groan, and he swears int o your skin. "You're right," he concludes. "Dripping on the inside." He begins to thrust his finger in and out of you, working your clit with his thumb before adding a second finger inside of you easily. The stretch feels delicious, and you know you'll soon be begging for a third. Your eyes roll back in your head as he searches for the spot inside of you that will make you see stars. His pace is methodical, testing your limits as your fingers lock around his vambrace, pressing him in deeper until he's buried to the knuckle.

You press your face against his neck to try and keep quiet as he begins working you faster, his arm bumping against the table with every thrust. That's when he hits the spongy place within you and you moan loudly.

"Shhhh pretty girl. You've got to keep quiet if you want to cum," he warns, and you turn, panting in his face as your hips jerk off the seat, which you're sure you've dripped on by now.

"Wolffe," you whine.

"Want you to soak my hand, you wicked little thing. Want to feel this pretty little pussy squeeze my fingers while you moan my name." He presses his mouth to yours as he add a third finger, swallowing your moans as he bears down on the place inside you that's making sparks skitter across your vision and your eyes water. You know your hips are jerking, riding his hand as he works you closer to the precipice, and all you desire is to give him everything he wants. His brown and silver irises have you pinned, alternating between your face, your heaving chest, and where his hand is disappearing inside of you.

"Come on, pretty girl. I want to lick these fingers clean after you cum. Want to taste you."

His words tip you over the edge suddenly, and you grip the table tightly, your legs quaking. He presses his mouth to yours hard, swallowing a scream that rips from your chest, muffling it enough that no one turns towards your secluded spot. You come down panting, clutching his shoulders as he presses his forehead to yours, cupping your face with his other hand.

"Wolffe," you groan, leaning back in the booth and relishing the cool air that's breezing across your burning skin.

He grins before locking his eyes with yours and slipping his fingers between his lips. You can see your release dribbling over his knuckles, which he cleans diligently with his tongue. He doesn't say anything, but he doesn't need to you as he sighs as though he's tasting a fine Corellian whiskey. The way he's looking at you almost has you ready to climb under the table on your knees and return the favor, but unfortunately, his men appear to have found him. You readjust your panties discretely under the table as a very drunk group of troopers stumble up to the two of you, babbling at their commander and barely taking notice of you.

He glances over at you apologetically, and you wink before leaning in and pressing a kiss to his temple.

"We'll have to do that again sometime so that I can get a taste as well."

He smirks as you gather your bag, disappearing into the crowd.

The briefing tomorrow with the 104th should be interesting.

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @ellichonkasaurusrex @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond

#karrde writes #star wars #the clone wars #tcw #fanfiction #fan fic #lemony lemon #lemon #nsft #commander wolffe #wolffe x reader #wolffe x you #cc 3636

[moonstrider9904]

Spike

Chapter 5 of The Hunt

{series masterlist} | {next chapter} {previous chapter}

{crossposted to AO3} {join my taglist!}

Wolffe x Fem!OC, some Comet x Fem!OC

Series summary: The 104th battalion’s new medic Rose comes into the scene dazzling everyone, ready for anything life as a battalion medic will ofer to her after having spent much too long secluded in a medical station orbiting Rishi. While she forms close friendships with the troopers, she and commander Wolffe never seem to get along. As arguments between them heat up, Wolffe is challenged to make Rose fall in love with him, a game that by no means will end well for either of them.

Chapter summary: Rose and Comet have fostered their feelings for one another, but as Wolffe continues aching for her, a mission that leaves the two of them alone will turn out in disaster for Rose and Comet's relationship.

Warnings/tags: Explicit 18+. SMUT with two different troopers at two different times. Alcohol consumption, the idiots are drunk but not too drunk that they can't consent, i.e, everything is consented here. Hate fucking. Infidelity.

A/N: Ooooh yeah, the smut has arrived!!! For those of you who have read, maybe revisit this smutty smut! If it's your first time reading, enjoy ;)

YEAH RIGHT by Joji inspired this arc.

Word count: 8k

This fic is ongoing and posted to-date on AO3. Cross-posting on tumblr will be in progress over the next couple of weeks. After that, I’ll pick it up where I left off and post any new chapters on both platforms.

Anytime a shore leave extended for the wolf pack, they made sure to enjoy every second. The first three nights were all parties, mostly Rose and Comet having to take care of their drunken comrades and hearing the weirdest and funniest things they happened to say out loud due to the alcohol. It was quite the experience, but there were a few times in which Rose wished she could have a whole bottle to herself.

Whenever she was left alone with Wolffe, for instance.

She figured after saving Comet on Hoth, she and the commander would get along better—and then he tried to make a move on her in his own gruff manner. After that seemed to more or less improve, the two had made out at the lake where Rose had originally intended to take Comet—she still felt like shit about that. But despite having talked to Wolffe about it and deciding there weren’t any hard feelings between them, they still seemed to hate each other and drive the other insane.

It was a dodged bullet, Rose figured. She didn’t dare to imagine what it would be like if she chose to stay with Wolffe instead of Comet. That probably would have been over before a full rotation. Their battles, however, never ceased. Snarky comment after another, glare after growl. At one point, Rose even stuck her tongue out at the commander, certainly earning chuckles from her comrades who acknowledged her charisma, but only making Wolffe’s blood boil with more fervor.

It was obvious to Rose that Wolffe was beginning to despise her, and it always became far more notorious whenever Comet was around, as though he were warning his comrade to run away while he still could. The thought only made Rose want to barf.

“I know what you’re thinking,” Comet’s voice broke her off from her current train of thoughts.

Rose had been looking out the balcony of her room, separate from the clones’ barracks, silently admiring Theed’s landscape while fuming inside. Night had fallen not long before that, and stars were just beginning to gleam in the rich, royal blue sky, and the flickering lights of the city looked like stars on earth that could only have been brought down by the smooth breeze that kissed Rose’s skin, a lot of it exposed by the black silk tank top and panties she wore.

With a teasing smile, Rose turned around and leaned on one of the balcony’s pillars, adopting her best angle to enhance her chest and her legs as her eyes scanned Comet with playful whispers of desire, at least until she raised a brow at him when she noticed what he was wearing.

“Is that my sweater?” She asked him.

Comet chuckled and ran his hand over his chest, brushing the coral-colored yarn that made up Rose’s favorite oversized sweater, his lower half only covered by a pair of fitted black boxers. “I got cold waiting for you, fireball,” he’d gotten used to addressing her with a word for his own name.

“Sorry,” her smile was sincere and apologetic now as she took soft, barefoot paces towards the bed, her features readopting her spunk when she finally reached him. “Well, enlighten me. What was I thinking?”

Comet smirked at Rose as she sat on her bed, once again posing to purposefully make her breasts appear their best for him. His strong, calloused hands, those of a soldier, found her hips and ran up the sides of her torso and back down, the second time around underneath the thin silk blouse.

“Well, I watched you while you were out at the balcony—like I usually do, because you’re so damn hot—and I noticed your brow was furrowed and you were pinching your lower lip,” Comet said. “Which I wish you wouldn’t do, but I know you do it when you’re anxious or just thinking too much.”

Rose smiled softly at her man, heat rushing to her face at the sight of his unbelievably kind and soft smile.

“You know, I’m beginning to get why you like oversized sweaters so much,” Comet lightly tugged on the loose fabric. “They’re comfortable as fuck.”

“Yeah, well, you’re gonna have to take it off, sweetheart,” Rose chuckled. “That one’s mine.”

“You’ll have to rip it off me,” Comet smirked at her.

Rose’s laugh was rich, playful, sprinkled with a fine dash of seduction as she crawled on top of him, straddling his waist. She bent forward and rested her forearms on Comet’s chest, teeth flashing at him in a charming grin as she bit that full lower lip that Comet loved so much.

“I love that sweater too much to rip it, so here’s what’s going to happen,” Rose purred at him as her fingers danced on his chest. “I’m going to ask you nicely, and you’re going to take off my sweater.”

“An item for an item, then,” Comet replied, matching her tone. “I lose the sweater, you lose the panties.”

“Oh? Not my top?”

“I really like that top,” he bared his teeth seductively at her, his hands groping firmly at her ass. “Now take off the panties.”

Rose cooed, pleased by Comet’s sense of authority and dominance. He wasn’t the one in charge of things around the squad, but he surely had it in him to be a leader, and Rose welcomed that in the bedroom. She perched herself up on her knees and wiggled her hips softly as her fingers teased the rims of her panties, pulling them down painfully slowly. Comet’s eyes darkened at the sight of the beautiful woman in front of him, all but stripping for him. Swiftly, Rose shifted her weight to the side and she tossed the panties playfully on the ground, her gaze never leaving Comet’s for a second.

“Now take off the sweater,” Rose mimicked him with a hitch in her breath.

“Only ‘cuz you held your end of the deal,” Comet grinned, sitting up halfway to remove the sweater and toss it gently to the edge of the bed. He growled at Rose, beckoning her to come closer to him, and with her eyes scanning every line of his muscles and every scar that contrasted with his bronze skin, while his eyes remained fixed on her cleavage and the way her hair fell in graceful waves down her breasts, dangling softly as she bent over.

“Please, just kiss me,” Comet said, his eyes sparkling flames in front of her.

Without a second in between, Rose lowered herself down and crashed her lips on his, kissing him with hunger as both of their bodies ignited together. Comet ran his hands up and down her thighs, teasing the sensitive skin near her wetness but not touching her there just yet. Rose dug her fingers into his scalp and played with some of his curls, sending shivers down every inch of his skin. She rocked her hips against him, covering the black fabric of his boxers with her arousal and letting it bleed through, soaking his already throbbing length. A low growl formed in Comet’s chest, silently speaking his most sinful desires. He was so dazed that it took him a couple of seconds to come to his senses and realize Rose’s lips had left his and began their way down his neck.

She nipped at his sensitive skin, barely letting her teeth graze his warmth and she was already drawing out whimpers from him. He muttered how much he loved her, how utterly amazing she was; he thought he was only speaking to himself, but he said the words loud enough for Rose to hear, and she smirked into his skin as her kisses sailed down the middle of his chest. A string of curses in fluent Mando’a was spoken in his beautiful, deep voice as Rose softly trailed her tongue down his abdomen, perfectly marking out the comet tattoo he had on his belly that resembled the symbol on his helmet, all while her fingers delicately traced patterns on his hips and later his thighs as she got lower. Rose had barely done anything to him yet, but Comet felt his eyes wanting to roll back when he felt her breath fanning on his shaft over the fabric.

If there was anything Rose liked doing in bed, it was teasing. The tips of her fingers lightly tapped on Comet’s hipbones, approaching the rim of his boxers only to back away again. Comet grunted and looked down at her, his eyes pleading, pooled with fire; just having her there in front of his cock shot fire through his veins, and soon he was trembling under her touch.

“Please,” he choked out.

Rose chuckled, the sound sweet and seductive, his own femme fatale. “Such a nice boy you are, Comet.”

He shuddered at the mention of his name. “Rose…”

“Yes, Comet?” Rose knew exactly what she was doing to him.

“Fuck,” he whispered, his hand traveling to her hair to ball the wavy black locks into a tight fist.

The room was once again filled with Rose’s laughter, shocking Comet with how it could sound so playful and even innocent, yet so provocative, craving. But as he continued to process the delightful sound of Rose’s laughter, she finally wrapped her fingers around the hem of Comet’s boxers and pulled them down all the way, tossing them aside for them to land just beside her panties that rested on the floor.

Comet’s length stood proud, long, already dripping with precum merely caused by Rose’s kissing and teasing. She looked up at his eyes just as she inched closer to his cock, breath brushing over the tender skin. Comet’s chest heaved up and down, his hand still stroking at her hair, all while he waited for her to lick him, suck on him, do anything to him. Still in a manner of teasing, Rose grinned at him and let the very tip of her tongue lick from the base to his tip, savoring in the taste of his precum, taking in every groan and mutter let out by Comet.

She hit her own limit too. Comet looked delicious in front of her and, driven wild by his taste, she finally took in as much of Comet’s length as she could. Rose moaned softly at the feeling of his cock throbbing inside her mouth. She ran her tongue swiftly over the veins of his length, aided by her hands to massage his balls and have him writhing underneath her. He saw white, only feeling her mouth on his cock, her saliva dripping down his balls, and just when he rounded up the strength to look at her, Rose’s gaze met his and she parted from his cock, mouth parted and tongue hanging out ever so slightly to emphasize the string of saliva that still connected her to the tip of his cock.

“Kriff…” Comet muttered as he took his hand to stroke her cheek.

With lustful eyes, Rose lowered herself back on him, her red lips parted around his cock, cheeks hollowing as she sucked him raw. A long, sinful moan escaped Comet; he knew he was close. With his hand, he gently beckoned Rose to look at him again, buying him some time before he could form words again.

“Rose…” he said. “Come here, love… I want to cum inside you…”

She cooed with excitement, her mouth still stuffed with his length. She pulled out with a loud pop! as his cock was set free again, and with a large grin, Rose crawled up to Comet and lied back on the mattress, leaving for him to top her.

Comet brightly smiled at her, bewildered by the fact that he was finally sharing intimacy with Rose. He kissed her lips passionately, reveling in how soft and warm her lips felt against his, only embellished by the fruity taste of her lipstick. Comet softly massaged her breasts over the silk top she still wore, pinching her pebbled buds just enough to make her whimper.

Fuck, she was hot.

Comet kissed down her neck, sucking and nibbling at her tender skin to mark her with a prominent hickey to announce she was his. Still playing with her nibbles, leaving the hickey on her skin made Rose moan sweetly at him, her thighs clenching around his figure. He kissed along the edges of her top, along the cleavage and up the strap of her shoulder to take it between his teeth and growl playfully at her before kissing her lips again as he parted her thighs with his hands.

Rose nodded at him, grinning with a blend of love and thirst. Comet grinned back and inched himself into her tight walls, moaning at how hot and wet she was and how she squeezed around his cock. A brief explosion of pleasure burst in his chest the more he pushed himself in as he looked her in the eyes, and he pecked her lips when his tip reached her deepest corner.

Comet began with a sensual pace, always making sure to be looking at her. His hands held the sides of her head, fingers combing through strands of her hair. Rose watched as his figure swayed up and down with every rock of his hips. The fullness blew her away and drew moans from her she didn’t even know she could make. It had been a while since the last time she’d had sex with anyone, and to be doing it for the first time in a while, with Comet, it set her on fire in ways she couldn’t explain.

Heat and pressure bundled in her womb, liquid heat flowing down her body and filling every corner. Comet picked up his pace the more he felt himself getting closer. His eyes pierced into Rose’s; her hands traveled up and down his back, letting her feel every clench and release of his muscles. At last, Comet’s luscious pace had morphed into an unrelenting tempo, and the obscene sounds of skin slapping and Rose’s wetness squelching climbed above her moaning, They were both ready to release, ready to come undone in each other.

They were both moaning out each other’s names. Comet was the first one to hit the precipice, grunting and choking out Rose’s name as he lost complete control of his hips when the hot ropes of white shot inside her, his voice rendered to breathy moans just as Rose’s escalated when she hit her peak too. Her pussy gripped Comet’s cock even harder, and her body quaked with every wave of her orgasm. Comet took his thumb to lightly trace over her clit, only enhancing the pleasure and turning her moans into beautiful screams of bliss.

Comet pulled out of her just before he’d faint from overstimulation, and his body fell limp on top of hers. Despite his current physical weakness, he managed to wrap his arms around Rose and squeezer to him, lying beside her. He planted several kisses on her temple and her forehead, and as Rose caught her breath, her hands rested tenderly on his chest as she reveled in his warmth and the overall softness of his presence.

“You’re as amazing as I always dreamed you’d be,” Comet whispered.

Rose looked up at him. “You too, love.”

He smiled brightly, eyes closing gently as he drifted further into slumber. As she felt herself slipping off too, the gentle night breeze of Naboo pranced into the room and swirled around her body. Rose was sure that, as lovely as it felt, it would never feel better than lips on her skin, and with that thought she fell asleep too.

*

The sun rose over Naboo in yet another wonderful morning, with a shining blue sky, birds slinging, flowers in all their beauty and glory, sunlight reflecting of the lakes and rivers of the lovely city of Theed. Never had ordinary life seemed so beautiful to Rose, but of course, anything would so long as she held onto Comet’s hand.

So far, there were no plans for the day. No errands to run. Free as birds, Rose was ready to spend a whole day with Comet after the romantic night prior to that lovely morning. As she looked at him, she remembered the gleam in his eyes as they were molded into one, the sounds he made, the way his hands felt on her. And whenever he looked at her, he smiled widely, only fueling the flame between them. Their love was almost tangible, visible, obvious to anybody who saw it. A couple of lovers, glowing, each only belonging to the other—

“Why the fuck were you not at the barracks last night?”

Rose and Comet winced silently and turned around. While they were both dressed in civvies, commander Wolffe was fully armored, and he glared at them like they’d both just set off a bomb on a group of refugees.

“Hey, commander,” Comet chuckled. “Want me to lend you a shirt so you don’t have to wear that all day?”

“Answer the question, trooper,” Wolffe growled, not bothering to look at Rose, and trying his best not to look at their hands joined together.

Comet’s eyes quickly darted to Rose before he softly laughed again. “You want the short version or the long one?”

Rose blushed and couldn’t help a little laugh of her own. Only then did Wolffe’s gaze find her. It wasn’t like Wolffe didn’t know that Comet had spent the night wrapped in Rose’s arms, most likely after a very passionate session of loving. It only made the commander bare his teeth.

“If you must know, I was with this lovely lady right here,” Comet let go of Rose’s hand to wrap his arm around her shoulders.

“You have to report to the barracks.”

“We’re on shore leave,” Comet said as reasonably as he could. “You said yourself once we had a bit more freedom on shore leaves.”

“And I was in my official room,” Rose intervened. “Still, technically, part of our assigned barracks. Comet didn’t step a foot out of place.”

“I’m addressing my trooper,” Wolffe snarled.

“Okay, I think you can avoid talking like that to her for once,” Comet stopped him.

The two clone troopers, often on good terms, puffed at each other; the testosterone was nearly tangible as they bared their teeth to one another, Comet clearly challenging the alpha wolf.

“Stop,” Rose stepped in between them, her hands resting on Comet’s chest gently to get him to stand down, but the sight only made Wolffe feel worse, and he was getting pretty damn tired of feeling worse by seeing them together.

“You realize you don’t have the day off,” Wolffe evaded Rose and addressed Comet. “Neither of you do.”

“Excuse me?” Rose.

“Comet would know if he’d returned to the barracks,” Wolffe said.

“What about me? I don’t sleep in the same barracks, when was I supposed to know?” Rose challenged him too.

“Early in the morning, but you clearly slept in,” Wolffe dissed her. “Comet, you need to help out at the cafeteria for the refugees. Corvis took the night shift, it’s your turn. Sinker and Boost will be there to help you.”

“I assume you’re going to split us up again,” Comet caught onto Wolffe’s intentions.

“Yes,” the commander replied shamelessly. He looked at Rose, his gaze still tainted with all the bubbling anger he felt, but he sighed regretfully afterwards. “I hate to assign you on this mission because it’s far less dynamic, but the queen’s uncle is sick and he’s requested every medic on hand to be nearby.”

“So I have to go help him,” Rose’s on-duty voice came out.

“Yes, and no,” Wolffe said, his voice gruff, yet his eyes oddly displaying sincerity, shocking Rose. “He just wants you in the building. Just in case. He already has two nurses and a doctor formally looking after him, but he’s both paranoid and egotistical. He wants all available medics, that includes you.”

“So I’m just going to stand there?” Rose asked.

“If it helps, the queen protested,” Wolffe told her. “And we’ll be in a big house.”

“We?” Her lips curled in disgust.

“Because you’re part of a GAR squadron, at least one other trooper has to be there with you—”

“Send Comet with me,” Rose said, her tone final. “You go to the cafeteria.”

“Are you giving me an order?” Wolffe snarled.

“I’m offering you a kind suggestion that’ll clearly be better for everyone,” Rose replied with an arrogant smirk as her arm linked around Comet’s, right in the middle for the commander to see.

Wolffe sighed again. He hated that he had to pull rank. He hated that he had to—and he hated to admit—come between Rose and Comet. It wasn’t his plan for the day to go that way, but higher ups had given him those instructions, and he had no choice but to follow them. He wasn’t going to put his troopers’ personal relationships before their duties, and though Wolffe was glad for his vod and, detestably, for Rose, his most despicable corner was also glad they wouldn’t be together the whole day. That same corner was the same one that made him drink too much the first night at the bar and insisted he hold Rose in his arms again someday despite already having made out with her.

Yeah, not even Wolffe understood all those feelings. They disgusted him.

“Protocol calls for a commanding officer when it comes to the royal family,” Wolffe explained. “I had no control over this, and Comet cannot be the one to assist you.”

“Give him your kama, he’ll pass for you,” Rose said.

Wolffe rolled his eyes, about to snap. “Did you not hear me? It’s protocol for the royal family. Don’t make me tell you again, we’re going.”

Rose sighed in defeat. “Fine.”

She was about to kiss Comet goodbye when she remembered Wolffe was still there, and she glared at him. “You mind?”

With a grimace, Wolffe turned around. Behind him, Rose’s gaze softened when her eyes fell on Comet. He clearly wasn’t amused either, but he also softened as he looked at her and held her hands.

“See you tonight?” Rose asked.

“I’ll sneak out,” Comet smirked at her.

They smiled at each other, and Comet lowered down to kiss her softly, though it was more than obvious to Wolffe they were kissing even though his back was turned on them. He even picked up on an incredibly soft moan that escaped Rose, and his whole skin prickled with both anger and desire.

“Don’t have too much fun,” Rose whispered softly when they broke the kiss.

“Impossible,” Comet smiled. “You won’t be there. I won’t be having any fun.”

“Well, don’t tempt fate,” Rose chuckled.

“I’m not,” he said confidently, tapping her chin. “Love you.”

“Love you,” she reciprocated.

His hand brushed hers until the very last moment before he walked away, glaring subtly at Wolffe as he left. Rose was looking at the ground when Comet got out of sight and, reluctantly, her gaze finally landed on Wolffe.

She was oftentimes not too happy to see him, but at that moment, Wolffe knew how much she hated him.

“Big house, huh?” She spoke. “Is there gonna be booze?”

“Most likely,” Wolffe replied. “Though you taking any of it will be frowned upon, obviously.”

Rose feigned a smile at him. “I’ll share. Heavens know I’ll need it if I’m spending a whole day with you.”

“Rose—”

“Consider it the tax that pays for our armor,” Rose scoffed as she began walking off with a dignified sway of her hips. “Lead the way.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes, reminding himself constantly how downright infuriating that woman could be, as if it would help either of them.

*

Not two minutes had gone by after Rose and Wolffe arrived at the mansion of the queen’s uncle and she was already thinking of ways to sneak out the trash chute—she would have gone through it were it not for the compactor. If no one was talking to them, Rose would sneak an I hate you, this is all your fault glare at the commander, and it was clear to him she no longer had any respect for him.

Apologetically, a handmaiden with big eyes walked up to her and Wolffe. Just by laying gazes on her, Rose and Wolffe knew she was the one responding to all the confused medics there against their will.

“I’m really sorry for all of this,” said the handmaiden. “He might not be as sick as he thinks he is, but the queen’s uncle sure is a bit… demented.”

“We won’t tell, don’t worry,” Rose nodded. “I take it no one’s really doing anything?”

“No,” said she. “He has his two nurses with him and they’re doing more than enough. I’d let you all go, but protocol won’t let me. Not when it’s been his strict request to keep medics on alert until he’s better.”

“We understand,” Rose replied kindly. “So… we just stay here?”

The handmaiden nodded. “It’s a big house, so the least I can tell you is to make yourself at home. Several rooms are available, perhaps you’d like to spend some of your shore leave there?” She picked up on Rose’s civilian outfit. “It’s the least and most I can do.”

Rose was clearly annoyed by the whole thing, but her gaze was soft and understanding towards the handmaiden. Seeing her that way gave Wolffe an odd sense of hope, thinking perhaps they could spend the day peacefully, for once.

“I appreciate it,” Rose said. “You have my comm frequency. It might not happen, but if you do need me, hit me up.

The handmaiden nodded and smiled. “Thanks.”

Rose nodded off and went to find her way around the opulent mansion with Wolffe following closely after her. They had to look in a couple of rooms that were already occupied before finding one that was free. Rose waltzed herself in and immediately went towards the cupboards resting on the wall, fumbling around the cabinets and grinning once she finally found the one stuffed with bottles of liquor and whiskey.

“You’re not serious,” Wolffe scowled.

“You’re still here?” Rose stood up, bottle of whiskey in her hand, and carelessly, she rid it of its cap and drank directly from it, grimacing at the way it burned down her throat. “Damn, that’s good. Here,” She threw the bottle at Wolffe. He reacted quickly enough to catch it before disaster happened; with a cold rush over his body, he looked back up to meet Rose’s gaze, cold and unamused. She knew what she was doing, the message she wanted to get across.

Rose grabbed another bottle from the cabinet and opened it too, ready to keep it to herself as she stepped out onto the balcony, leaving Wolffe alone in the room to inevitably drink as well.

The hours dragged. Rose lowkey hoped everyone else would desert the mansion if only it would mean giving her something to do. But her comm didn’t ring a single time, and the day was just too quiet. She even tried calling Comet’s comm frequency a couple times, estimating more or less when he’d have a recess or a break, but he never picked up. On top of the day being excruciatingly slow, it was lonely. It reminded her of the occasions in which she’d have free time at the space station orbiting Rishi, and she didn’t like it. She was out on a balcony, a whole city in front of her, and she still felt boxed in.

The sun was beginning to set and Rose counted the minutes before she was officially allowed to go home. The whiskey had disappeared gradually, the bottle only about a quarter full now, sending that weird tingling sensation down her body. The wind felt cold on her cheeks, prompting her to go inside. Stepping in, she found Wolffe’s figure sitting on the couch, upright and with a datapad in his hands, but his bottle of whiskey was even more drained than hers was.

Rose looked at him with eyes that were both tired and annoyed. “You’re still here.”

Wolffe mirrored her gaze. “Of course I am.”

She scoffed. “I’m going back outside.”

“Will you stop behaving like a spoiled brat already?” Wolffe set the datapad aside and walked toward her, his broad figure already towering before her.

“Oh, I’m the brat?” Rose walked slowly closer to him. “You got your way! You ruined my day!”

Wolffe growled and bared his teeth slightly at Rose, who had to admit the tingling sensation went straight down between her legs when she saw Wolffe’s expression.

She shot him a snarky grin. “You’re such a bastard, you know that?”

“How much have you been drinking?” Wolffe stole a glance at the bottle she held at her side, but let his eyes linger at the cleavage of her little black blouse, and only then did he notice the size of her breasts and how perky they looked. His gaze wondered down her green and black plaid miniskirt that teased just enough around her hips and her inner thighs, the smooth skin exposed and looking invitingly soft. He knew she was hot, but damn, was he only realizing how sexy her legs were, how sexy she was as a whole.

“Less than you, thank you for your kind concern,” Rose curtsied as a mockery. “Now leave me alone.”

But Wolffe took just one more step closer to her, enough for his breath to fan over her. She looked up at him with unchanged eyes until she smiled with spite. The two locked eyes with one another, both full of whiskey, but still clear enough to think. When Wolffe growled at her, he knew what he was doing, and so did she.

“I hate you,” she said quietly.

Wolffe felt the hairs on the back of his neck standing on end and his trousers growing chafingly tight under his codpiece. He slammed his bottle down on the nearby caf table, took her bottle, and did the same, all while his eyes pierced hers. His hand slid up her chest, easily gliding over the curve of her breasts before it reached her neck. His slender fingers wrapped around her neck, and he pressed just barely enough to lightly cut air from her, drawing a short, choked, sinful moan from her.

The commander then leaned in dangerously close to her lips and whispered, “Say that again. I fucking dare you.”

Rose smirked again, not cowering down like she expected he thought she would.

“I hate you,” she repeated through gritted teeth.

Wolffe’s fingers squeezed a tad more around her throat, enough to draw a delicious chirp from her.

“Yeah? Well, fuck you,” Wolffe growled.

Rose chuckled, looking as if she were about to spit at him, her eyes alight with spunk and with lust, and she took her own hand up to his throat and squeezed just as lightly as he was.

“Fuck me yourself, you bastard.”

Wolffe’s lips then came crashing down on hers, locking them in a kiss bursting with raw craving and fire. Their hands on each other’s throats, both were groaning and grunting as their lips continued to eat each other. Wolffe used his spare hand to throw away bits of his armor and then ran it up and down Rose’s thigh. He released her throat only for a few seconds to remove his gloves, and immediately after, his hand returned to her neck while the other one slid up her skirt and pushed her panties aside to rub her clit, too wet for her to have any defense.

Rose bit her lip and moaned as she rocked her hips against Wolffe’s fingers, while his gaze continued prying into her. She could almost see the flames in his brown eyes, but her own little whimpers distracted her from that. Liquid fire darted through her body as she began pulling on the top of Wolffe’s blacks, rid of armor, and she got the fabric off him to reveal his strong torso, the bronze skin lined with muscles and scars. Unlike other troopers, Wolffe had prominent chest hair, and Rose couldn’t find a way not to moan at the sight of the thick layer that faded down his belly into a treasure trail that led to his hardening length.

“You like me, don’t you, bunny?” Wolffe growled, a smirk tainting his lips.

“I fucking hate you,” Rose whispered, her voice contradicted by tiny whines as his fingers didn’t cease teasing her clit. “I despise you, Wolffe.”

“You’re not a fucking bundle of joy yourself,” he bared his teeth as he slipped his middle finger down her dripping entrance and kept his thumb at the sensitive little bud. “You’re insufferable… arrogant…”

“And yet, you have a cute pet name for me,” Rose innocently pouted her lips at him and prided herself in riling him up further.

“You know what a bunny is to a wolf?” His hand squeezed her throat. “A prey. You’re mine, bunny… you’re all mine...”

“You’ve wanted me from the start,” she chuckled. “That explains a lot.”

Wolffe growled. “You’re aggravating.”

“You’re repulsive,” she panted in response.

“Nauseating,” he countered.

“Odious,” Rose whimpered out, her voice then strained by a long moan just as she neared her climax at Wolffe’s skillful fingering. Her nails dug into his back, making Wolffe writhe with a hungry groan, while her gaze lingered down his chest. She threw her head back against the wall, ready to feel her orgasm take over her body, when Wolffe pulled his hand away and walked over to the couch.

Rose laughed. “Get back here and finish the job, you coward.”

“You’re going to have to hop into my den, bunny,” Wolffe emphasized as he removed his belt and threw it aside followed by the armor on his thighs, and finally, his codpiece, making his large bulge visible.

Fervor exploded in Rose’s body as she walked up to Wolffe and threw her arms around his back, wiggling out of her clothes as Wolffe pulled her shirt off from her torso and took her panties off to throw them aside, leaving her with only her skirt and her adorable black lace bra.

“Fuck,” he grunted as his hands firmly grabbed her ass, lifting her up. She hopped onto him and wrapped her legs around his torso, and he finally lowered her down on his cock and guided her body for her to bounce on his shaft at a merciless rhythm that made Rose’s eyes roll back and moans drip from her lips.

“Be quiet, bunny,” Wolffe’s tone was deceptively caring. “Other people in the mansion are going to hear what a little slut you are.”

Her laughter was rich and provocative; heat pooled in every corner of her body and made her see stars all around her. She felt herself squeeze around his cock that throbbed inside her as he continued to fuck her, his balance never wavering in his standing position. His most primal instincts shone through when he noticed a hickey on her neck and, asserting his dominance, he growled and marked her neck with another two, nibbling and sucking at her skin and drawing obscene sounds from Rose.

One of her hands combed through his curls, tugging slightly on them. Wolffe only had to keep one of his hands on her hips, and the other one ruffled through Rose’s goddess-like wavy locks as his balls kept swinging, hips striking her ass, both engulfed in steamy, raw pleasure. Not long after, her walls squeezed around his pulsating member, and Rose finally hit the peak she desperately longed for. Her moans, strained in an effort to not be loud, danced into Wolffe’s ears, pushing him over his edge too. He growled, kneaded his fingers into her meaty flesh, kept her forehead on his to look into her eyes, moaning out the word bunny as he reminded her she’d always belonged to him.

Wolffe grunted as he spilled himself inside her, his essence painting her all-too-sensitive walls. He relished in the sweet, high-pitch whines Rose let out at the sensation of being stuffed by his cum, and then, their bodies relaxed. Wolffe kept carrying Rose, his head buried in the crook of her neck. Gently, he lowered down onto the couch, sitting down with her legs swung over him, her body cradled in his strong arms as his lips trailed kisses along her neck and jawline.

He simply held her. Her scent invaded his senses, bringing him from a state of lust to one of peace. She was finally in his arms, her body against his, where she belonged, with who she belonged. Oh, she felt perfect in his grip, small and sweet, soft, safe. Wolffe backed up from her neck and his eyes sought out hers before landing on her beautiful lips, tainted red, and he leaned down hoping to feel their full form against his.

But Rose backed away. Her eyes widened in horror and she squirmed out of his grip, her chest heaving up and down as she panted, taking in the full weight of what she’d done as the ecstasy died down.

What have I done?

She scrambled around the room to find her blouse and her panties, her hands shaking in the process. Wolffe got up from the couch and pulled his clothes over him too, holding out a hand to try and steady Rose.

“Rose,” he spoke. “Rose, it’s okay.”

“No,” she panted. “No, it isn’t.”

“Rose—”

“I just willingly cheated on Comet…” her broken voice said, more to herself than to Wolffe.

The commander sighed, ignoring his own wound. “Rose.”

“Listen to me,” she said. “You and I don’t like each other. This never happened, and if it did, it was meaningless, you hear me? It meant nothing.”

Rose gathered her things and exited the room without a second thought, without looking back, without letting Wolffe say it wasn’t meaningless to him.

Naboo was veiled in the night now. Rose snuck out of the mansion, tears staining her eyes, making them sting with the cool wind. She ran down the streets back to headquarters, careful not to find anyone, and she hid behind a pillar at headquarters’ fancy lobby, rummaging around her purse for her comm.

She had to tell Comet. Hiding it from him would only make it worse. She loved him. She didn’t want to hurt him anymore, and she knew he at the very least deserved to know. Hands shaking, Rose dialed his frequency again, desperately hoping he’d pick up this time.

“Hey,” Comet’s voice answered on the other end of the comm.

“Comet?” Rose couldn’t keep her voice from shaking. “Comet, where are you? I-I need to talk to you?”

“I’m just heading back to headquarters,” Comet sounded on alert, clearly having picked up on the note of her voice. “I’ll meet you at your room, alright?”

“Yeah,” she answered and hung up. She rushed to her room, not bothering to look around corners to recognize anybody, certainly hoping not to run into Wolffe again. Her room was empty and silent, and she hurried to sit at the bed after closing the door behind her, hands pressed together as her thumbs fiddled with each other, every second feeling eternal.

Finally, Comet arrived, and with him was a look of worry and something Rose picked up on to resemble regret. It pained her that he’d be the one to feel that way. Heavens knew she was the one stained with remorse.

Comet instantly picked up on her worried expression. He closed the door behind her and went to sit next to her on the bed, taking his hands in hers.

“I’m here,” he said. “What is it?”

“Comet, I—” Rose’s voice broke, against all her pride. “I—”

“Talk to me,” Comet scanned her with worry.

Ultimately, Rose broke into tears. “I got drunk and I slept with Wolffe!”

Comet gasped, overwhelmed with sensations. Rose’s revelation, her sobs, the feeling he already carried with him before even reaching headquarters. He watched as she broke down before him, and his first instinct was to hug her close to him and rest her head on his shoulder.

“I’m so sorry, Comet!”

He held her in front of him again. “Hey, hey, listen to me. Rose, listen to me.”

Sniffling, Rose looked at him.

“Was it consensual?”

“Yes,” Rose answered without a doubt. “Yes, it was, but still… It’s worse, I—I let it happen, Comet, but it meant nothing! It meant nothing, I promise you…”

She hugged him again, sobbing loudly into his chest. “I’m so sorry, Comet… I love you, you know I do. I love you and only you.”

Every word hit Comet like a dagger, but he knew he had to be there for her now. Whatever happened throughout the day didn’t matter, he had to be there to help Rose.

“I love you too,” he whispered. “Rose, look at me.”

She lifted her gaze. Her crying had quieted down, but her eyes were still puffy and stained.

“We all make mistakes,” he said, gently rubbing her cheek. “We’re not perfect. And I believe you. I know it didn’t mean anything to you.”

She sniffled. “It really didn’t. I love you, Comet.”

He smiled sadly at her. “I love you too.”

“Can you please find a way to forgive me?” She asked him, voice full of hope and resentment at once.

His heart squeezed, thinking in any case, he had no right to claim anything of her.

“I forgive you,” he said. “Even though there’s nothing much to forgive.”

“There is,” Rose strained, threatening to become a mess of tears again.

“Well then, I forgive you,” he hugged her gently. “Come here… Don’t cry, please…”

Rose tried her best to quiet herself down, still sniffling into Comet’s chest.

“Thank you,” Rose said. At the moment, she couldn’t bring herself to say much more due to her voice, but she was eternally grateful. She’d screwed up big time, which was undeniable, but Comet had a heart of gold.

And that heart of gold was the only reason Comet’s heart ached with emotions, for as Rose hugged him, her hand hovered just over the pouch in his belt where the new girl’s comm frequency rested inside.

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#moonstrider writes #the hunt series #wolffe smut #wolffe x oc #tcw wolffe fanfic #wolffe fanfiction #tcw wolffe #tcw wolffe smut #commander wolffe smut #wolffe x reader #cc 3636 #commander wolffe #clone trooper comet #wolffe #clone trooper comet smut #tcw comet #tcw comet smut

[littlefeatherr]

Chapters: 1/1 Fandom: Star Wars - All Media Types Rating: Mature Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply Relationships: CC-3636 | Wolffe/Reader Characters: CC-3636 | Wolffe Additional Tags: Reader-Insert, Sex Pollen, Special Ops Reader - Freeform, Recon mission gone wrong, Dom Wolffe, Dom/sub Undertones, Mutual Masturbation, Dirty Talk, Biting/Marking, light degradation, Standing Sex, Clothed Sex, Rough Sex, Barebacking, Reader has protection, Oral Sex Summary:

It was supposed to be a fairly easy mission; get in, get the imagery needed, get out. But for some reason you and the Wolf Pack can't have a nice and easy mission. You and Wolffe get separated from the rest of the squad while on the run, and you end up having to confront your feelings for the sarcastic commander.

#commander wolffe #cc 3636 #tcw fanfiction #the clone wars #wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #fanfiction recommendations

[221bshrlocked]

thoughts of you consume me

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Jedi Fem!Reader

Words: 46,838 (I would apologize, but I’m not one bit sorry)

Warnings: 18+ only. Really Angsty Smut!!! Softer than usual Wolffe. Mutual Pining. Idiots in Love. Touch-Starved Characters. Lots of Kissing. Possessive Behavior/Words. Dirty/Sweet Talk. Oral Sex (male and female receiving). Rough Fingering and Overstimulation. Squirting. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex. Slight Breeding Kink. Oh and heavy implications of Order 66. I am so so sorry for that ending.

Summary: When you shut the door behind him, Wolffe turns around and reluctantly meets your gaze, finding your eyes more piercing than normal as they shone underneath the soft light of the candles scattered across the humble space. You smile gently at him, and he wishes then that you weren't a Jedi, that you weren't forced or even able to set aside your true emotions to make him feel at ease. He wanted you to be yourself with him, to be vulnerable with him. Against his better judgment, he takes a step towards you, never once daring to look anywhere else but your strikingly beautiful orbs as he finally asks the question he had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer to. “What did you mean when you said you've seen your death a thousand times?”

A/N: I started writing this as I was watching S4 of The Clone Wars (February), got most of it done during S6 (March), became an emotional mess and started writing different oneshots for Wolffe for a while, but realized quickly that I wanted this to be the first one that I post for him so here you go. This is different, even for me, and Wolffe is “softer” than usually portrayed but you know what, bite me. This is mostly from Wolffe’s perspective but the perspectives change a bit as the fic progresses. Please please please let me know how I’m doing in the comments. Pretty please and thank you. Also, this is not beta’d and I apologize for any mistakes you will come across. 

The news that Padawan Tano was choosing to leave the Jedi Order spread like wildfire across the barracks. When it reached Commander Wolffe and his men, there was a mixture of reactions, with some hating how they may have played a part in the Jedi’s decision and others wishing they weren’t so quick to judge. Not that any of them had a choice. They were just following orders. 

Good soldiers follow orders. 

That’s what Wolffe kept on telling his boys to try and make them feel less guilty of their hunting of Ahsoka. Even if they didn’t believe the accusations, they couldn’t have disobeyed their Generals’ orders. He could tell that no one was buying his reasoning, and he hated that he knew it was because he himself didn’t believe his own words. For the first time since he became a soldier, Wolffe didn’t know what to do. He watched as his men scattered and went their separate ways, no doubt because of what was happening, perhaps of what was eventually going to happen. There was something off about the whole ordeal, and he got the sense that the Jedi Council was beginning to fall apart. But no, that was impossible. They knew what they were doing, they were going to end this war.

A strange consideration breaks his train of thoughts, and as much as Wolffe doesn’t want to carry it out, he brushes his discomfort aside and heads to the Jedi Temple. He thinks of his words, of how he was going to face Commander- no, Ahsoka. Just Ahsoka. He doesn’t want to admit it but he was going to miss her presence, her snarky comments with the other Jedi, her daring yet heroic actions when they went into battle. But above all, he was going to miss how she was the only one that managed to make you talk. He hates how selfish he’s being at that moment. One of the bravest, most selfless Jedi was leaving the Order and he is worried that he won’t get to hear your voice as much. Kriffing hell, what were you feeling right now? What must you think of him and his men? He knows Jedi didn’t form attachments, weren’t allowed to even humor such an idea, but there was no way you weren’t a little bit sad, maybe disappointed, at what he did. What he had to do.

By the time he makes it to the Temple, Wolffe braces for whatever you and Ahsoka have to say to him following his apology. He doesn’t know what to expect, and he tells himself that he would need to accept whatever harsh words would follow his confession. Then again, a part of him knows that neither you nor Ahsoka would be unkind, even though you had every right to be. He shakes his head as he prepares to walk through the gates of the Temple, but when he turns his attention to a commotion off to the side, he notices Master Skywalker getting into a heated conversation with Ahsoka. His eyebrows furrow as the expressions of both Jedi contort through a multitude of emotions, but the one that stands out the most is the sadness etched deeply on both of their features. Wolffe can’t make out what either of them is saying and he’s about to move a little closer when he feels a hand softly land on his shoulder. 

Turning to the side, he’s momentarily surprised to find your eyes piercing his gaze, and before he can relay his apologies to you, you smile at him and remove your hand away. Wolffe is distracted for a moment, and his heart begins to beat wildly against his chest when you nod towards the other end of the platform. He follows you without a word, only stopping when you come to a halt and look across Coruscant. The discomfort from earlier returns a hundredfold, and he grimaces more at himself than you when his mind wanders into a territory he’s been actively trying to avoid. Your smile should feel threatening, maybe even artificial considering the situation, but it isn’t. In fact, it’s somehow sweeter than all those times you’ve graced him with that expression. 

Focus Wolffe.

“It’s a fine day today, isn’t it Commander?” The melodic tune of your voice sends a ripple of lightning across his muscles, and he tenses beside you when you turn and stare at his rigid posture. 

“As- as fine a day as Coruscant can be, sir.” Wolffe doesn’t know how else to respond, mostly because he has expected you to feel the opposite. A deep chuckle breaks him from his reverie and he clenches his fists tightly when you turn around and look at him with a curious eyebrow. 

“And they say you don’t have a sense of humor.” He gulps down his nerves at your teasing words, and although he wants to ask you who you’ve been speaking with regarding his so-called sense of humor, he finds that he cares more about the hidden compliment in your statement. He’s not sure how long the two of you stand there keeping each other's gaze, but Wolffe finally comes to his senses and looks to the floor when he realizes that your eyes wouldn’t budge first. He studies the yellow markings across your shoes to feel grounded, hating how disarming you managed to be without even trying.

“You have news for Master Koon or myself?” The question catches him off guard, but he shakes his head and responds immediately.

“No sir, none.”

“Then to what do we owe the pleasure Commander? You’re on leave, are you not?” Wolffe can no longer hear the smile in your voice, and he clears his throat before he finally musters up the courage to look at you again. He hopes he doesn’t get too distracted by you, but one second of meeting your gorgeous eyes makes him hopeless yet again. Were they always this fiery? This daring?

“I wish to apologize to Commander Tano…and to you General.” If you’re surprised by his confession, you do a good job at masking it, and even though Wolffe shouldn’t feel this threatened by the familiar smile that graces your features, he can’t help the anxiety that flows across his back as your smirk deepens. 

“What for, if I may ask?” You tilt your head to the side and cross your arms, a stance Wolffe came to understand as you letting your companions know you’re offering them absolute, undivided attention. His eyes rake over your form for a moment, and his lips part when he notices how pronounced your curves are beneath the leather straps across your chest. He can see your lightsaber hanging loosely from the leather holster and he wonders how it manages to stay there as you move. The distraction doesn’t last for too long because you uncross your arms and let your cloak cover your chest again. Wolffe feels his face redden at the prospect of being caught and when he looks up at you, he’s happy to find you keeping that same soft expression you often hold for him. The last thing he wants to do is offend you, especially now.

“I want to apologize for my actions, for ever doubting Commander Tano’s allegiance.” Wolffe doesn’t think you need any further explanation but when you take a step towards him, he gets the sense that he should have been more detailed.

“Why do you think an apology is warranted? Ahsoka may have been one of the best Padawans in the Academy, but like all Jedi, she is prone to the dark forces in this galaxy. There was a chance she wasn’t innocent, and as the Council said, we couldn’t have taken that chance. You did the proper thing by following Master Koon and Skywalker’s orders.” Wolffe listens intently as you relay to him what he’s sure is the Jedi’s perspective on this issue, and he almost believes you. But then he remembers the way you behaved when you found out he arrested Ahsoka and he clenches his jaw tightly at the line you’re attempting to draw for him. 

“With all due respect General, you disagreed with those orders.” He doesn’t mean to be offensive, and the look that you give him makes him tense even further because he may have just done so unintentionally. 

“You’re right, I disagreed with them. I would never admit this to anyone but- well, you’re not anyone, are you Wolffe?” His name on your lips causes him to almost gasp. You rarely ever called him by his name, and when you did, it was usually preceded by his rank. The way you’re looking at him now makes him wish he could close the space between the two of you and wrap his arms around your frame comfortingly. But Wolffe knows better than to cross that line, and with a Jedi Master of all people.

“As Jedi, our emotions cannot cloud our judgment, but I must admit, my friendship with Ahsoka distracted me. I- I knew she wasn’t betraying us, I knew she would rather die than become what she fights against, but I couldn’t prove it and I also couldn’t allow my faith in her to eclipse my service to the Republic, to the Council. I know how this must sound to you, how hypocritical it is of me to tell you not to apologize when I myself almost broke my oath, but I’m sure you know by now how dear Ahsoka is to me. Unfortunately, while I had the choice of not becoming involved, you didn’t, hence my belief that you have nothing to apologize for.” Wolffe didn’t expect such an intimate response from you, and it takes all of his training to not reach out and wipe the tears rolling down your cheeks. It wasn’t an unusual sight, far from it. Everyone knew of your affectionate inclinations, and it wasn’t strange for him to see such an overt display of emotion. It was why many of his brothers preferred your company over other Jedi Masters; you never hid your feelings from them, even though it was your job to do so, to not show a modicum of sentimentality to those around you, to let them believe that you are capable of indifference even in the most difficult of times. He wants to tell you that he understands how you feel, that he would probably, unfortunately, react in a similar manner if this happened to him, to one of his brothers. But he doesn’t want to make this about himself, you trusted him with something so personal and you clearly wanted him to listen and nothing more.

“This begs me to ask, why do you think I deserve an apology?” Wolffe hates that you remember his declaration from a minute ago, and he inhales deeply before he relaxes his shoulders and holds your gaze once more.

“Sir, I- I know how important Commander- apologies, I know how important Ahsoka is to you, and I still agreed to take the mission. I should have let another Commander carry the orders.” He wishes he can turn his focus elsewhere, but something about the way you keep your eyes on him makes him refuse to ignore you. Not that he could ever ignore you, you were always there, in the forefront of his mind, even when he hasn’t seen you for a hundred rotations. You were always kriffing there. 

“Why?” If Wolffe didn’t know any better, he’d think there was a hint of hope in your tone, in the way you seemed to hold on to every word he was whispering to you. But no, that was impossible. He must have been transferring his own desires onto you. Kriff, could you feel what he was feeling for you right now? Could you sense it through the Force, how much he longed for you? It all comes crashing down on him in an instant, and he feels his mind threatening to explode when he finally accepts what his heart has been begging him to see for so long. 

He cares for you, deeply. He isn’t supposed to, but he does. You were his commanding officer, a powerful Jedi Master that was well-respected and regarded. And he, well he was just another clone. He couldn’t possibly dream of anything happening between the two of you, it couldn’t. It wouldn’t. The mere thought was offensive to you, he shouldn’t disrespect you in such a way.

“So I didn’t hu-” His confession is abruptly cut off by the angry stomping of General Skywalker as he walks past you and returns to the Temple. Wolffe clears his throat and steps away from you, needing to put some space between your body and his so he doesn't do something he’d regret later. He straightens his posture when he looks past you and sees Ahsoka approaching the two of you, and before he can say anything, Ahsoka holds out her arms and crashes into you without a single care for anyone standing around. He shifts his focus elsewhere to give you some privacy and it’s only when you break the sentimental touch that he dares to look at the young togruta. 

“Commander!” Ahsoka beams at him, the excitement in her voice making him narrow his eyes at her with anger and inquisitiveness. Why did she seem…happy to see him? Was she not, at the very least, bothered by his presence? He was the one responsible for her arrest after all. 

Kriff. Jedi were odd.

“Sir.” Wolffe says sternly, not sure if he was supposed to say anything more until he was given permission to do so.

“Oh there’s no need for that anymore,” the nonchalant behavior drives him mad because if he were in her shoes, he’s sure he would have given a beating to whoever dared question his dedication to the Republic, to his Master.

“I- uhh…”

“Remind me never to be on your bad side again,” Ahsoka chuckles as she rubs at her shoulders, and Wolffe finally catches on to what she’s trying to do when he looks at you and sees you roll your eyes at her affectionately. 

“Apologies for earlier Comm-, I mean-” Wolffe wants to say so much, in front of you too, but everything he’s practiced on his way to the Temple ceases to exist when he notices the way you’re looking at Ahsoka. 

Maker, you cared for her more than you were letting on.

“You can call me Ahsoka, you know. I’m not your commanding officer anymore.” He can tell the young Force-user is trying to diffuse the tension, and he hates how his presence was making it more difficult for her to do so. Wolffe nods at her and he’s about to finally apologize when you cut him off and take hold of Ahsoka’s hand.

“Commander Wolffe wants to apologize for the way he mistreated you, but he doesn’t know how to do so without calling you by your rank, which you keep pointing out isn’t necessary any longer.” Wolffe is sure he’s blushing hard and he swears beneath his breath when he hears Ahsoka laugh along with you.

“Well, Commander Wolffe, as much as it pains me to say this, there’s no need. I- I can’t blame you for what’s happened, you were only following orders. In fact, you’re the last person I’d ever blame for everything that’s happened.” He huffs in irritation, finally understanding why the boys were refusing to listen to him when he was offering them the same explanation not hours ago. It sounded fucking dumber now that he thought about it, even weirder when it came from the one person that shouldn’t have been trying to justify his own actions for him. 

“If- if there’s any consolation, some of us never lost faith in you.”

“And by that, he means me.” The shyness that left him moments ago returns again, and Wolffe reluctantly looks to you, a part of him hoping that you could give him a sliver of an inclination as to what you were thinking. When he finds your attention on Ahsoka, he looks to the young togruta and barely manages to hold back from coughing awkwardly when he sees the way she was studying him. Her smile widens, letting him know that she knows what he was thinking, what he was feeling towards you. Could he not catch a break?

“I will give you a moment.” Wolffe begins to walk away when you reach out and rest your hand on top of his forearm. His eyes shift to where you’re touching him instantly, and he gulps when he feels the heat radiating from your fingers. 

“There’s no need Commander.”  If he thought his name sounded beautiful on your lips, the way you call him by his rank sends a fire across his chest, and he has to remind himself of who you are to prevent himself from doing something embarrassing. 

“What’s next for you?” Wolffe distracts himself with the yellow fabric interwoven in your cloak as you speak with Ahsoka, wanting to give you some semblance of privacy as you said your farewells. He’s not sure why you didn’t let him leave, and even though he knows he shouldn’t think much of it, he can’t help but meditate on your decision for him to stay. Was there something you wanted to tell him indirectly? 

Fuck, since when did he overthink the simplest of sentiments?

He continues to admire your attire, his eyes slowly roaming across the fabric stretching deliciously against your muscles. It occurs to him then that, apart from Master Plo Koon, Wolffe has never held such a level of admiration for a Jedi. Compared to the others he’s fought alongside, he’s never seen someone with your agility or nimbleness, never seen a warrior of your caliber simultaneously exude dangerous power and unnerving serenity. 

Looking at you now, Wolffe’s mind drifts to the first time he’s gone into battle with you, how his reluctance shifted into immeasurable trust when he saw you go out of your way to protect his brothers. As a Jedi, you were irreplaceable, not meant to be expendable like him and all of the others in the battalion. Yet you helped them without a second’s thought, with no hesitation whatsoever. His heart skips a beat when he recalls watching you as you swiftly made your way ahead of everyone, ensuring a safer route for him and his battalion. Never has he been so mesmerized, and Wolffe is sure he will never feel such intense yearning for another again. 

Wolffe doesn’t mean to eavesdrop, he really doesn’t, but when he senses the distress radiating off of Ahsoka, he tunes back into the conversation just in time to hear you whisper a confession to the ex-Jedi, an admission his mind realizes too late he was never meant to hear. 

“I’ve told you before Ahsoka, I have seen my death a thousand times. I don’t fear this war. I cannot when I know what will become of me.” 

The weight of your words settles heavily in his heart, as if there was a veil of water pushing against his lungs until he couldn’t breathe anymore. Wolffe’s eyes widen in shock at the neutrality in your voice, and when he turns to look at you, he no longer sees the soft smile he’s grown so fond of. Instead, there is a somber spirit completely taking over your whole body, and Wolffe can’t help but clench his fists tightly when he realizes that he’s at the center of the severe expression, as if he was the cause of your pain. 

The thought shakes him to his core. 

“Did you tell Master Yoda about-”

“It doesn’t matter sweetheart, it- I sense a shift in the Force. And now that you’re leaving us…leaving me, you might feel it too. The only consolation I have is that you’ll be safe. Please Ahsoka, take care of yourself. For me. I- I can’t bear the thought of hearing anything’s happened to you. Please.” Wolffe has never heard you plead before. Frustration and anger rise up his throat when he meditates on your response, how you seemed to care more for the young togruta than for your own safety. He wants to ask you about your confession but he gets the sense that you might ignore him or simply tell him that it was not his business. He can’t look away from you, even though he can tell that his gaze is making you uncomfortable. 

“I promise.” 

Wolffe shakes his head to escape his spiraling thoughts and he nods once at the ex-Jedi before he watches her walk away. When she’s far enough, he turns to you and studies your features for longer than necessary. 

“Sir, what did-”

“I’m tired. This whole matter with Ahsoka has drained me. If there’s nothing else Commander, you’ll have to excuse me. I need to get some rest before we leave tomorrow.” Wolffe clenches his jaw tightly when he catches on to what you’re doing. You’re not giving him a chance to ask anything, let alone bid you a farewell. Before he can respond, you walk away and return to the Jedi Temple, leaving an extremely worried and angry Commander to ponder on what your words could possibly mean. Wolffe watches as you mask your head beneath the large cloak keeping your body warm, and as you fall out of his line of sight, he feels his chest tighten further at the prospect of something happening to you. He waits until you’re safely behind the walls of the Temple before he makes his way back to the barracks. 

It’s hours later when Wolffe realizes that he can’t stop picturing the somber look you gave him as you revealed such grave news in his presence. He’s been sporting the drink in his hand for too long, ignoring his men as they laughed and joked and went about their night as if their commanding Jedi wasn’t in any danger. He couldn’t fault them though, they didn’t know. They weren’t there when you said the news without so much as a nervous tick on your expression. He downs the last of his drink and leans over to Comet, quickly letting him know that he was returning to the barracks. He’s met with a questioning gaze but Wolffe doesn’t let him say anything in return as he heads out of 79’s. 

A cold breeze calms his nerves as he walks through the lousy streets of Coruscant. When he gazes to the sky and finds a recorded video updating the citizens on the war, he groans in annoyance and shakes his head back to reality. Had it not been for the drinks, Wolffe is sure he would have still been on edge. Well, that wasn’t true. He was still on edge, just not as tense as before. How could he relax when he knew that you were in danger? Granted, you were a trained Jedi, among the best as General Plo Koon said when he introduced you to his team. But he couldn’t not worry about you. You were…his Jedi. It was a strange sentiment, to think of one of the Force users as his own, but he felt this in every inch of his soul. What was worse for him was how unfazed you were. You looked as if you were telling him about another mission, not of how you saw your demise unfold in front of your own eyes more than once. 

Before he knows it, he’s back in the barracks unfastening his armor from his body. With each piece he loosens, he feels his heart sink further in his chest. Never in his life has he felt so useless, so hopeless. He was made for the opposite, made to offer aid wherever he can, show the citizens of the galaxy how hope and fearlessness were the keys to ending this war in favor of the Republic. Wolffe huffs angrily as he lays down on his cot, incapable of setting his thoughts aside to get some rest. He tosses and turns, praying to the maker that this issue somehow resolves itself so he doesn’t go mad with fear.  

But no matter what he does, your revelation replays in his mind for the duration of the night. No matter how hard he tries, he can’t think of anything else but the sadness in your voice as you whispered words he was sure he wasn't meant to hear. Before he can reconsider his actions, Wolffe leaves the barracks and makes his way through the hallways of the Jedi Temple. It's not until he's standing in front of your room that he realizes what he's doing is far beyond inappropriate. Not only has he lied to the guards of the Temple, but he was seeking you out at a rather suspicious hour. His presence at your door would not reflect well on you, especially after the events with Ahsoka. Maker, what was he doing?

The split second it takes him to decide to return to the barracks is disrupted when he looks up and sees you opening your door for him. One look at you is all he needs to forgo every sensical thought that’s been hammered into his conscious mind, and he steps into your quarters without another word, hands clasped at his side when he does a quick sweep of the room and finds it void of anything personal. It wasn’t as if he or any of his brothers owned anything personal in their cots but for some reason, the reality he was faced with tore at his heart. 

When you shut the door behind him, Wolffe turns around and reluctantly meets your gaze, finding your eyes more piercing than normal as they shone underneath the soft light of the candles scattered across the humble space. You smile gently at him, and he wishes then that you weren't a Jedi, that you weren't forced or even able to set aside your true emotions to make him feel at ease. He wanted you to be yourself with him, to be vulnerable with him. Against his better judgment, he takes a step towards you, never once daring to look anywhere else but your strikingly beautiful orbs as he finally asks the question he had a feeling he wouldn’t like the answer to.

“What did you mean when you said you've seen your death a thousand times?”

As he expected, your expression doesn’t change minutely, and Wolffe can do nothing else but clench his fists tightly to keep himself in check. He can sense that you’re trying to force him to stand down, and against his better judgment, he furrows his eyebrows at you in anger and hopes that you find the scar adorning his cybernetic eye more intimidating. When your smile deepens towards him, as if you were a prey trying to calm the predator hunting you, his emotions get the best of him and he breaks your gaze, turning his attention to the floor to avoid embarrassing himself any further. He almost flinches when he sees you move, not because he thinks you might attack him, but because he didn’t want to lose sight of you even in the safety of your own quarter. Without drawing too much attention to himself, Wolffe turns towards you and raises his sight a little to study you, briefly getting distracted by your firm posture as you tiptoed towards one of the candles slowly going out. You say nothing as you lick your thumb and index finger, and Wolffe can’t help but raise his hand to stop you from taking the fiery top in between your fingers to put it out. 

His jaw ticks when he looks up and sees you raising a curious, teasing eyebrow at him. Great, as if haunting him all day long wasn’t enough, you were now toying with him. 

“Good evening to you too Commander Wolffe. I must say, it is a strange hour for you to come here to ask me such a question, certainly one that could have waited until tomorrow.” You tilt your head to the side and cross your arms in defiance. Unlike earlier in the day, when Wolffe’s eyes instantly roamed down your body and took in your muscular curves, he orders his focus to remain above your chin to avoid any further awkward confrontations. He realizes he’s been ignoring your question, or comment…whatever it was, and straightens his back before he looks beyond you.

“Apologies General, I- I seemed to have had more- uhh, I lost track of the time, sir. I will report at 0500 to General Koon and yourself. Good night sir.” Wolffe salutes you and turns to face the door swiftly, thanking the maker that his muscles had a mind of their own and were now single-handedly saving him from what he’s sure would have been a rather strange conversation. When he tries to open the door, the button beeps in confirmation but the metal barrier remains locked. He growls in irritation as he pushes the button several more times, and it isn’t until he realizes you aren’t reacting to the problem at hand that he notices what’s happening. Wolffe turns around and watches as you force down a giggle before you lower your hand and take a few steps towards him. If he didn’t have a few drinks earlier in the night, he would have certainly backed away from you and pleaded for you to let him go. But he was a little looser now that he had you in his sight and he wasn’t about to back down now, not when he’s come this far. 

“I didn’t ask you to leave Commander, I was merely commenting on the odd hour you find yourself here with me.” He doesn’t know if it sets his teeth on edge or turns him on that you’re looking at his cybernetic eye, but he doesn’t humor the thought another moment as you clasp your hands behind you and look to the floor. 

“My apologies, that was a cruel joke, especially after everything with- well, you know. You are free to go, Commander, I- I didn’t mean to make you uncomfortable.” If he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you were letting your guard down with him. Wolffe wasn’t sure if you knew your anxiety was so visible but he doesn’t comment on it, afraid that you’d return the calm facade again.

“Sir.” He calls out to you to get your attention, and when you reluctantly raise your gaze to him, he silently prays to the maker that you can see he wasn’t offended by your antics. 

“Commander, I’m not sure if- I think it’s unwise if I tried to answer your question.” Wolffe didn’t expect you to address his question this quickly, and he frowns when he studies you carefully and sees the familiar sadness from earlier today return a hundredfold. 

“May I ask why?” He asks as calmly as possible, knowing that it would be difficult for him to temper his emotions if he got too comfortable with you. He doesn’t look away from you once, and he purses his lips when he sees you part your own and hesitate to respond. You say nothing, but Wolffe can tell that you’re itching to tell him everything. Against his better judgment, he takes a step towards you until he can feel the heat of your body radiate across his bodysuit. It eases his mind when you don’t try to move away or put space between him and yourself, but the comforting silence quickly evaporates when you turn around and hug yourself tightly. 

He takes a minute to get himself in check again. This close, he can see some of the fading scars across the back of your neck, and he unintentionally reaches out to trace one of them. It’s only when you turn your head to the side to eye him that he notices what he’s doing and quickly lowers his hand. 

“It would do more harm than good. I’ve learned to accept my visions, no matter how horrifying they are.” Your voice barely comes out as a whisper, and Wolffe feels the anger rise in his chest the vaguer your answers become. 

“With all due respect sir, I think you should tell General Plo Koon at the very least.” He chooses his words carefully, not wanting you to take any offense by his attempts to understand you better. When you turn around and narrow your eyes at him, Wolffe knows that you’ve already found his suggestion displeasing. 

“Don’t try to understand things you know nothing about Commander. I trust that you won’t mention this to Master Koon or anyone else. Those words were spoken in haste in your presence, words you weren’t meant to hear. Need I remind you that your obligations lie elsewhere?” In all of his time with you, he’s never seen you once snap at anyone, no matter how much they wronged you. Even in your most trying times, you always went out of your way to make sure that you were respectful to those around you, including your enemies. Wolffe is shocked by the outburst and he staggers away and holds his hands out in defeat to show you that he didn’t mean anything by what he said. He was only trying to help.

“Apologies General. I- I won’t tell anyone. You have my word.” Wolffe speaks in a hushed tone to settle you down, and it’s only when you turn away from him and face the wall that he finally notices the tear adorning your cheek. His breaths come out in haste and it takes every ounce of control in his body to not be at your side and wipe away the tear with his lips. 

“I’m sorry Wolffe, I didn’t mean to- that was unkind of me. You’re only trying to help. Thank you.” He nods at you even though you’re not looking at him. Before he can bid you a good night and leave, you slowly make your way towards him and stand much closer to him than before. He doesn’t know what to do, if he should give you space or look away from the storm rising in your eyes to give you some privacy. When you reach up and rest your hand against his chest, Wolffe forgets how to breathe for a second and focuses on the soft, warm sensation seeping through his black suit into his lungs. 

“I know this doesn’t make much sense, but now that you know this about me, I only ask you one thing.” Your voice washes over him like the sweetest melody in the galaxy and Wolffe has to remind himself that he isn’t allowed to get as familiar with you as you were getting with him now. It pains him to see you feel so sad and so alone, but he knows he can’t just take you in his arms and hide you away from the universe. No matter how much he wanted to. 

“Anything mesh’la.” The word slips by accident and he shuts his eyes in regret as soon as he sees a brief smile take over your features before you school your expression again.

“Trust me. Trust that I know what I’m doing and that I will fight to survive until my dying breath. If not for me then for y- for the 104th, and for the Republic.” Wolffe winces when he hears you refer to your death again, as if it was the most normal sentiment to ever pass from the mouth of someone who knew of their demise. He wants to fight back, to tell you that he will do everything in his power to keep you alive, to protect you, and ensure your safety. But something about the way you’re almost resting your forehead against his sternum makes him stop before any of those fiery promises leave his mouth. They wouldn’t make a difference anyway. 

If you’ve seen the moment you pass from this universe a thousand times as you claim, then it must have been after he’s tried everything to save you.

The knowledge that even he can’t stop this from happening makes him shudder in fear and he looks away from you towards the closed blinds of your window to ground himself before he answers you. Without thinking too much of what he’s doing, Wolffe lays his hand on top of yours and firmly grasps it as he replies in anguish.

“I trust you, General.” It’s the only thing he can think of now that he knew there will come a point in time when he will lose you forever. He just hopes he’s long dead by then because he can’t fathom ever living in this galaxy without you.

It’s not what he wants to say, but it’s the only appropriate response to give in such an intimate moment. He can feel your breath tickle the top of his hand and he wishes he can just grab you and feel your lips against his skin, but he reminds himself that he’s only here for the next few seconds before he’s leaving. He can’t afford to cross that line, not after everything you just said to him. He can’t take advantage of you in such a vulnerable moment. Kriffing hell, how can he still think of you so lewdly when you’re literally confiding in him about something so serious. As you step away from him, Wolffe grimaces at the loss of your heat and touch, and he bites into his cheek to try and feel something other than the desperate longing in his heart. 

“Th-thank you, Commander.” You clear your throat and take a quick look at him before you walk towards your window. Wolffe can tell that you’re purposely avoiding his gaze, and he lets himself think that it’s because he makes you nervous in a good way. Maker, he prays it’s in a good way. Seeing that you don’t say anything else to him, he assumes that the conversation is over and that you wish him to leave. As he shakes his head and moves to press on the button of the door, you break the silence and force him to stop. 

“You- you never told me why you should have let someone else lead the mission.” It���s the last thing he expects to hear from you, especially after everything you just said to him, after you’ve been so secretive with him, but he gulps down his anxiety and turns around to face you. He knows his expression is cold, almost unnerving, but he wants to show you that he doesn’t appreciate your line of inquiry when you’ve met his own with nothing but hostility.

“Sir?” Wolffe asks firmly, his gaze not wavering like before when you were practically laying your heart out for him. He notices the way you’re ringing your fingers nervously, and clenches his jaw when the previous thought returns again. 

Perhaps you were as affected by him as he was by you.

If only…

“In the morning today, I asked you why you said you should have made someone else carry out the Jedi Council’s orders instead of you. You never told me why.” Your voice breaks a little, and if Wolffe didn’t know any better, he’d think you were struggling to keep yourself in check as much as him. The way you’re looking at him now, with hope in your eyes, with a need to hear why he regretted ever going after Ahsoka, drives him mad. He wants to embrace you, to whisper reassurances in your ears as he made you lose control at his touch, to kiss every fucking inch of you until you couldn’t care about anything else but his presence. Fuck, he wants to claim you, your lips, your skin, your body, your fucking soul. But he fights back and tries to look as put together as possible. There was a chance you knew what’s been going through his mind, but he trusted you enough to know that you wouldn’t try to look into his mind. Maker, he doesn’t know what he would do with himself if you were to read his mind. 

“I- sir, I don’t think I should say what...” Wolffe hates how his own voice comes out hoarse and unsure, and he doesn’t bother to add anything else to his response, knowing that you were going to keep asking him until he caved in and gave you what you wanted to hear. What he doesn’t expect is for you to hurry towards him and clasp your hands together in front of you, as if he had some power over you and you were begging him to let you go. He takes half a step backward but regrets it immediately when he notices the way you frown at his tense, uncomfortable body language. 

“Wolffe, please. We’re past formalities at this point. I just- I need to know. Please.” He watches intently as your fingers twitch and buzz with energy. For some reason, he gets the sense that you’re trying to stop yourself from reaching out and touching him, but he brushes the thought aside because of how ridiculous it sounds. There was no way you wanted him the way he wanted you. Wolffe gulps his nerves down, and his eyes widen for a fraction of a moment when he sees your focus shift to his throat and your tongue peaks out to lick the bottom lip like you wanted to-

No. That can’t be it. Snap out of it.

“P-permission to speak freely, sir?” Wolffe asks reluctantly and takes turns looking in between both of your softening eyes. He can tell that your pupils are dilated, and he doesn’t know what to make of it. He is, however, sure that his own pupil is probably as dilated as yours from how fucking turned on he is, even though it was perhaps the most inappropriate moment for his imagination to run wild with unholy thoughts of you. 

“Have you ever spoken with me “not freely”?” Your question is meant to put him at ease but Wolffe feels offended that, to a certain degree, you thought his tone with you was disrespectful. He loses that train of thought when you smile at him and take your lower lip in between your teeth. 

What he’d give to be the one biting your lips instead of you…

Swallowing his discomfort, Wolffe doesn’t remove his attention from you as he attempts to put what he feels into words that won’t reveal his emotions too much.

“I should have had someone else hunt down Ahsoka because I- I didn’t...haar'chak-” He trips over his words when he notices the way you’re slowly leaning into his personal space. This close, he can smell the sweet scent of you, and he doesn’t know if it’s the smell of your hair or just your natural essence. He likes to think that it is your skin that he can almost taste on his tongue and not the smell of your flowery hair. Fuck, he can’t keep getting distracted by you. It was-

“Wolffe,” you whisper to him as you slowly unclasp your hands and reach for him. For the first time since he can remember, Wolffe feels like prey that’s waiting for its death, and it’s only when he feels the warm skin of your palms as you rest them across his cheeks that he realizes he’s stopped breathing sometime ago. He never thought there would come a moment where you’re willingly touching him like he was yours, like you’ve been waiting for this as long as him and couldn’t hold back anymore. He shuts his eyes and clenches his jaw to keep himself in check. You may have been touching him but he didn't know if he had the right to return the sentiment. For some reason, the only thing running through his mind is how soft your hands feel against his skin. He thought that you would have rough calluses in between your fingers from using the lightsaber every day but your skin was the opposite. It was soft, and silky, and somehow velvety to the touch. 

When he opens his eyes and looks down at you, he’s met with tear-filled eyes shining in the dim light of the candles the longer he remains quiet. Before he can apologize for whatever he made you feel, your tears roll down your cheeks like two impatient streams wanting to escape the source of their existence as quickly as possible. Without a second thought, Wolffe reaches for you and mirrors your actions, thumbing at the dampness on your skin until there was no longer any proof of sadness but in your darkening orbs. 

“I didn’t want to hurt you. I didn’t want you to think that I could ever willingly hurt you. Mesh’la I-” Wolffe hesitates, knowing that if he were to voice that last, dark confession out loud to you, there would be no taking it back. He’s afraid you’d think less of him if he were to tell you what he’s been feeling all day long, and he shakes his head in defeat when you close the little space left between the two of you and raise yourself on your tiptoes until you are practically breathing the same air as him.

“Please,” you plead innocently, and Wolffe lowers his head and rests it against the top of your hair. He breathes in deeply and curses himself when he does finally get a hint of your scent on his tongue. This close, it would be so easy to just tilt his head to the side and take your lips in between his. It would be so easy to slip his tongue into your mouth and stake his claim on you. It would be so fucking easy to wrap his arms around you and refuse to let you go until you’ve screamed his name loud enough for the whole kriffing Temple to know who was making you feel good, who was claiming you.

Fuck, it would be so easy to just lose himself in you. 

But he doesn’t cross that line, afraid that you’d take offense in how familiar he gets with you and push him away.

“I’d rather disobey every order given to me than cause you pain.” Wolffe breathes out those last few words against the bridge of your nose, and he takes pride in the effect his confession has on you. You gasp lightly at the exclamation, and he hopes that you understand how difficult it is for him to voice such a revelation. He was the Commander of the 104th, the right-hand man to Master Plo Koon, and he would willingly go against the Republic, against the Senate, against the Jedi Order, against the reasons behind his creation, just to ensure you’re safe with him.

Wolffe shuts his eyes to commit this moment to memory. He doesn’t think he’ll ever get to feel you in such an intimate way again, and he nuzzles into your cheek when you slip your hands down to his neck and pull him closer to you. A part of him wishes you can break the silence and put him out of his misery, whether by rejecting him or by telling him that you feel the same way. He knows he shouldn’t have said anything but he wants you to see that he cares for you, that he would put up with his own discomfort just so you could know what he's willing to do for you. He needed you to know.

“W-wolffe,” you call out for him in the most sinful way, your voice shooting a zap of lightning through his muscles and making him tilt his head a fraction of an inch. There's barely any space between his mouth and yours, and he parts his lips, if only to touch the air leaving your lungs. He may not be able to kiss you but he can breathe you in. Wolffe is breathing heavily, carefully even, unsure of why you're moaning his name with such familiarity, as if you’ve been calling for him night after night in your bed. His hands falter against your cheeks and he dares to slip his fingers around your neck until he can feel the strands of your hair intertwine around his fingers. 

In all his time knowing you, he never thought you'd allow him to touch your hair, to grow near you as if you were his and he was yours. He tightens the hold he has around your hair, tugging a little if only to convince himself that he was, in fact, touching you so intimately. He doesn’t dwell too much on this thought though, afraid the air around you would break and you’d realize what you were allowing him to do and push him away. Wolffe feels his lungs threaten to go dry at the thought of you rejecting him in this instant or perhaps telling him that he should have never presumed to get this close to you, this familiar. It takes every fiber in his being to not close the space between the two of you and feel your lips surrender to him. Just as he’s about to tear himself away from you so he doesn’t deal with the difficult aftermath of whatever the two of you were doing, he watches as you part your lips and breathe a desperate plea across his jaw.

Oh to feel your tongue on his skin. Fuck, he would very much like that. 

“Commander…please.” The moan you grace him with is sweet music to his ears, the melody of which almost makes him lose his footing. Wolffe doesn’t think he’s ever heard such a beautiful sound in all of his years. He decides then and there that he would love, more than anything, to hear that sound again. 

He keeps himself grounded by focusing on your scent, your whispers, the soft strands of your hair intertwining around his fingers like vines wrapping around blossoming flowers. The proximity between the two of you is overwhelming him, and some still conscious part of his brain begs him to ask if you were keeping him close to you through the Force or if it was the sheer depth of your emotions that simply had a hold on him. It is in this moment that Wolffe finally understands what Master Koon said about the Force connecting every living being through the galaxy. He’s never felt such a connection before and he hopes that this was only unfolding because you were so willing to surrender to him that you didn’t realize your Force signature was wrapping its strings around him and pulling him in deeper. If he wasn’t Force-sensitive and he was drowning in you this much, then you must have been far worse than him. His chest rumbles at the thought of having this much of an effect on you.

Then your words register in his mind and his eyes widen in horror.

The honorific violently rips him away from you, reminding him of who he was and who you were, of what the two of you were not allowed to have. The reality of what you just offered him and what he was willing to take from you and give you in return crashes into him like a cruiser and he pulls himself away from you when your skin no longer feels warm but scorching to the touch. 

You’ve burned him with your willingness to cross that line and he doesn’t think he will ever look at you the same way now that he knew you wanted him as well.

The consequences to his rather dramatic behavior reveal themselves right away and Wolffe shakes his head when he sees betrayal and heartbreak take over your features. His throat goes dry and he’s suddenly incapable of explaining to you why he pulled away. Just as he’s about to beg for your forgiveness, to tell you that he knows his place and that he should have never tried to pretend the two of you were anything more than a General and a Commander in the Republic, you wrap your arms around yourself and back away into the wall, eyes giving away to unshed tears that Wolffe knew were begging to be freed ever since this morning. 

You don’t bother hiding your emotions, and something about how unafraid you are of presenting your heart’s secrets to Wolffe in that moment makes him clench his fists tightly in anger. He wants to yell at you, to grab you and shake you until you return to those familiar grounds you’ve established with him long ago. The storm of emotions rolling in his chest drive him further into a dangerous territory of fear and outrage because- because…

How dare you? How dare you take down all your walls now when you knew he could never stand seeing you cry, and because of him of all reasons? How dare you open yourself up to him so willingly and so freely when you knew that he would be incapable of denying you whatever you wanted? How dare you abuse his loyalty, his respect, his lo-

“I suggest y-you leave now Commander, before- before you…”

“Before I what?” He reacts instantly to the implication of your words. If he is going to leave, Wolffe wants you to know that it is because you don’t think this is wise, not because he could ever regret moving into such uncharted territory with you. 

“Before you do something you…regret.” He can tell that you’re choosing your words carefully, and it pisses him off knowing that you genuinely thought he doesn’t want you. 

“I- I shouldn’t have pushed myself on your person, Commander Wolffe. It was never my intention to use my rank to…force you to do anything. I apologize for any misconduct on my part. I will turn myself in for disciplinary action first thing tomorrow morning. Just don’t…don’t-” Wolffe purses his lips when he sees how hard you’re trying to have a semblance of control. He’ll turn back to this moment later and mentally kick himself for not using the calming techniques Master Koon taught him. But for now, he couldn’t care any less about him, and certainly not about the power dynamics between the two of you. Force, he didn’t even care about the Republic or his duty anymore. 

He just cared about you. 

Without thinking over his actions, Wolffe strides towards you and doesn’t even register the reluctance and shock on your expression until he has you planted between his heaving chest and the cold wall of your room. You’re looking at him like he is capable of overpowering you, perhaps even holding you down so you wouldn’t dream of escaping from his grasp. Wolffe doesn’t know why, but the knowledge that he has this much of an effect on you fills his chest with pride. It’s sick and twisted, but he recognizes these unresolved sentiments as base instincts and nothing more. He would kill himself before ever acting on them. 

When he returns from those spiraling feelings, he looks down and sees your eyes still shining with tears, ones that streamed down your beautiful cheeks the longer he kept his hardened gaze on you. 

“Don’t flatter yourself sweetheart. No one can force me to do anything I don’t want. If you’re going to ask me to leave, then tell me the real reason why, and don’t lie to my fucking face.” Again, this is not what he wants to say but he allows his tongue to run along. He’s already overstepped that line, he may as well keep going. The consequences won’t make much of a difference anyway. 

“But you- you’re the one who pulled away?” The way you whisper that question, with your bottom lip quivering and your eyes full of hope, makes Wolffe impossibly hard. He hates himself for letting his body get carried away but he knows he wants nothing more than to swallow those little whimpers and sobs, and make you forget about everything. 

“You have to know why…I- I’m just a Commander, another clone. I’m nothing, and you’re- you. You’re a Jedi Master, and I’m no one. If I knew the Council would not strip you of your rank, your entire life, I would be down on my knees begging you to let me worship every inch of your skin. I won’t be selfish when it comes to your position, no matter how much I wish to touch you, and kiss you, and- karking hell.” Wolffe sighs heavily as he finally comes down a little from his high, but he doesn’t step away from you once. As a matter of fact, the more he speaks, the tighter his hold on your wrists become. He drops his head in defeat, refusing to glance at you out of fear of what his body might do if he saw you looking at him as if he was your savior.

“And what about you?” You whisper against his forehead, the breath of air sending a shiver down his spine and forcing him to straighten his posture a bit, if only to create some space between the two of you so he didn’t drag you down to the floor and claim you.

“I don’t give a kriffing damn about myself, mesh’la. Not when it comes to you. If I could walk out that door and go to the Chancellor himself to tell him a fraction of what I feel for you without getting you into trouble, I would. Fuck, I would tell the whole galaxy how much I- I…”

“You what? Wolffe please, I- I don’t care anymore. I don’t care about the O-Order, or the Republic, or duty. I just want you, I always have. Please tell me.” It breaks his heart to see you pleading for something he’s given you a long time ago, and even though he knows he should keep this last secret to himself so he doesn’t end up ruining your life, he throws aside everything that’s been etched into his mind and gives in to you. Letting go of you, Wolffe takes half a step backward to clear his mind and to ensure that whatever reaction you offer him is not forced…not because he had you cornered. That thought alone is pathetic because he knows very well that if you wanted, you could have him down on his knees begging for mercy with a simple gesture of your hand. He knows that you’ll always be more powerful than him, but he doesn’t want to leave anything to chance. 

Taking in a deep breath, Wolffe turns his focus to your eyes and wets his lips before he reveals what’s been in his heart ever since he looked upon you. 

“Ni kar'tayl gar darasuum cyar’ika.” 

It feels like a bantha lifted one of its feet off of his chest, and Wolffe only has mere seconds to let the reality of this new relationship settle in before you’re throwing yourself into his arms and clinging onto him for dear life. He doesn’t budge, bracing himself to the best of his abilities as he wraps his arms around you tightly and holds you in his embrace. Wolffe has only a moment of clarity before he feels your lips crash into his own in a heated touch. 

In all the times he imagined kissing you, he never thought it would be so electrifying, so desperate, so fucking fulfilling. And he certainly never thought you would be the one initiating it, far from it as a matter of fact. He always thought he would be the one crawling to you and trying to prove to you that he was worthy of your time, perhaps maybe even your attention. He pictured you telling him that he didn’t deserve to touch you anywhere, let alone look at your mouth. But here you were, silently begging him to let you into his mouth so you could show him how much you wanted him. His eyes flutter shut as he parts his lips and lets you take whatever you want from him. With each little groan you push onto his tongue, and aggressive scratch you deliver to his already scarred skin, Wolffe feels as if he’s falling through the galaxy, as if a million stars are passing through his soul and leaving behind a trail of unwarranted heat.  Never in his life did he think he’d ever see you so needy for someone like him, someone so ordinary. He unintentionally digs his fingers into your muscles as you tilt your head to the side and moan into the kiss, his mind going mad with lust at the prospect of littering your skin with evidence of his possessive touch and seeing those marks the following day. 

He slowly brings his arms around your form, and as he feels your body melt into his embrace, he tightens the hold he has around you until he can feel your chest expanding with every little breath you take. As soon as you slip your tongue into his mouth, something snaps in Wolffe and he tilts his head to the side to gain control of the intimate moment. His mind goes blank the more desperate he feels you become as you seek him out, and just as he’s about to break the kiss and assure you that he was going nowhere for the night, a strange cloud showers his soul and forces his heart to stop beating before it resumes calling for you again. He breaks the kiss regardless but refuses to let go of you, choosing instead to shut his eyes to attempt and get a grip on himself so he can focus on you once more. He’s not sure what it is that’s making him feel this intense ripple of emotions but when the soft caress of your fingers outlines his furrowed eyebrows, his body relaxes instantly and his eyes flutter open to look at you. 

Wolffe seldom thought of his cybernetic eye. It became a part of him quickly due to its necessity and function. But as he stood there in your dimly-lit room, with you whimpering in his arms and silently asking him to never let you go, he wishes with every ounce of his being that he still had his other eye, not because he was self-conscious (although that often played a part in his reluctance to make eye contact whenever you spoke with him), but because he wanted to see you as you were, without the unnatural hue his cybernetic eye unfortunately created. He wanted to fill his mind’s eye with your facial expressions, with the way they changed every time he pressed his digits into your muscles and claimed you as his. He wanted to look upon you as you graced him with your touch, your attention, the mere breath that escaped your lips and fanned over his own. 

His thoughts sidetrack again and force him to loosen his grip on you when that same, strange cloud returns over him. Soon after, the unbearable, excruciating burning he felt for you simmers down to a little flame, and it’s only when he blinks a few times and traces your features that he realizes what’s happening. 

You were projecting your own emotions onto him. 

The shaky breath that leaves his lungs makes him wish he was sitting down, if only so you didn’t witness how weak he was for you, is for you. In all of his time knowing you, he never thought the moment would come where you would willingly bring down your walls and allow him to get a closer glimpse of your heart’s desires. He stands still, afraid that one wrong move might make you regret opening up to him so deeply and deny him more of…whatever this is. You smile at him then, and Wolffe shudders at the thought of you having access to his own needs as well. When your smile falters, he gets his answer and pulls you flush against him. 

“I- forgive me, I thought you’d want to...or you’d be okay if I-” Even though he knows you’re tripping over your words out of embarrassment, Wolffe smirks down at you and raises a teasing eyebrow when you look away from him and choose to fixate on the collar of his blacks. He wants nothing more than to grab the palm of your hand and kiss it, but he finds the patterns you seem to draw on the skin of his sternum relaxing so he lets you do whatever you want with him. 

“What’s the matter sweetheart? I barely touch you and you’re already so…hmm.” He wants to tell you that he can almost taste the scent of your wetness on his tongue, but he sees how shy you’re suddenly being and decides against it. Again, his chest rumbles at the thought of being the one to have such an effect on you, a Jedi Master known for her great sense of control and serenity. 

“Go on mesh’la, look all you want. But I have to warn you, the dreams I had of you are- maker, I didn’t hold back as much as I am now.” Wolffe doesn’t know when the two of you began breathing this heavily, but as he trails his eyes down your neck and sees the rise and fall of your chest as you register his words, he swears and bites into his lower lip to calm himself down, unsure of whether these spiraling feelings were his own or yours. 

Not that he cared much. 

All he knew was that he wanted to push you up against the walls of your bedroom and sink his cock so deep inside you until you forgot everything but his name. 

A gasp fills the quiet air around you and Wolffe returns his focus to your features once more, only to take notice of how shocked you are. It takes him far longer than he’d like to admit to realize that you’ve listened to him and brushed across his subconscious. The smile that adorns his face is dangerous, and he knows this because it makes you shudder as soon as you take it in. There’s a teasing comment at the tip of his tongue but it’s long forgotten when you nuzzle into his neck and let out the filthiest moan Wolffe has ever had the pleasure of witnessing in his entire life. He growls when you slowly kiss across his jaw as you scratch the nape of his neck, and before he can warn you, he gets the wind knocked out of him as his mind’s eye fill with hazy visions. 

He holds his breath as he watches images of the two of you in the most compromising positions possible, and for a second, he tries to remember when he possibly touched you with such familiarity. But then the images continue to change and he discovers that none of these filthy scenarios ever took place. No, they only unfolded in his dreams. Wolffe groans when a particularly unrestrained scene pops up, more specifically, the one recurring fantasy that plagued his mind ever since he met you. Before he can dwell on it for too long, it changes to another and makes him whine in irritation at the loss of such a vivid dream. He doesn’t take notice of the bruising grip he has on your waist until you dip your head down and bite into the space between his jaw and his neck, the sweet pain of your mark reminding him to try and take things a little slower so he doesn’t overwhelm you. 

When his eyes flutter open and look down at you, he finds your pupils dilated farther than he thought possible and all the pieces of the puzzle fall into place as he stares at your quivering lips and sees how excited they are, how they longed to mark more of him. 

Those weren’t his dreams. 

Those were your own. And fuck if that didn’t make him want to push you down to the ground and make you scream his name. 

“Fuck, is- is that what you want from me little one?” Wolffe asks playfully, wanting to see how far he can push you before you throw your embarrassment aside and tell him your innermost desires. He studies you as you battle between giving in to him and finally letting go, the shy expression on your pretty features lighting a fire across his muscles. 

And to think he had this much control over you all this time…

“Wolffe,” the whine that escapes your lips sends a shiver down his spine, and he has to maintain his composure so you don’t abuse the chokehold you have on every inch of his being, and take control. Not that he would mind you taking over of course, but he wanted to fully enjoy the effect he was having on you. 

“My dirty jetii’ika can’t stop thinking about my cock, can she? What a filthy fucking girl you are mesh’la, dreaming of me using you like a whore for my own pleasure, for my own needs.” Wolffe chuckles deeply when you hide your face in his neck and moan his name as you kiss along his skin. He shakes his head at the shy yet teasing nature you’re offering him, but another image of the two of you in the refresher plagues his mind and he hisses aggressively when he shuts his eyes and the vividness of the scene plays out as if it was a real memory. He hates that you can disarm him so easily, but he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way. His cock twitches harshly in his blacks when he sees your shaking form in his arms as he fucked you against the wall of the showers. Some still functioning bit of his brain makes a mental note to ask you later how you’re able to convey to him all of those dreams, but he ignores that question for now, choosing to focus the utmost attention on the way you melted against him with each pass of his dick into your warm cunt.

“And here I thought I w-was offending your honor with all of the ways I wanted to claim you.” Wolffe barely manages to say as he rests his head against your cheek and swallows the lump in his throat. He’s never heard his own voice sound so wrecked before, not even in battle, and while he hopes you don’t take notice of how affected he is by you, he prays that you do, if only to see what the mere presence of you does to him. 

“Commander…you can ruin me all you want, and I- I’d beg you for more.” Your own voice barely comes out as a whisper and it drives Wolffe crazy because he knew for a fact you weren’t trying to make him lose that last bit of control he had on himself and yet here he was, reminding himself that he couldn’t just do this the way he pictured a thousand times. He needed to take his time with you, coax out your pleasure until you were comfortable enough to completely give yourself to him. 

“Is that right, sweetheart?” Wolffe takes advantage of your momentary distraction, and parts his lips as he descends on your mouth. You’re surprised for a second but quickly wrap your arms around his neck and pull yourself to him. A grunt of satisfaction bubbles up in his chest and threatens to break the kiss when Wolffe feels your tongue seeking his attention. He doesn’t deny you for too long, slipping his own tongue across yours and filling his senses with the taste of you. He can’t quite place the subtle sweetness he can taste the longer he kisses you, but he decides that it may just be your natural flavor. And maker, if you tasted this good now, he couldn’t wait to turn his attention elsewhere and shove his tongue inside you again. 

“Please Wolffe, I want you. I want you to take me, claim me as your own…mark every inch of my skin so even the Force knows I belong to you.” You break the kiss and leave a trail of pleas across his jaw to his ears, and if Wolffe didn’t know any better, he’d think you were doing this on purpose so he could speed this along and give you what you want. But he doesn’t give you the satisfaction of knowing that you were almost victorious in your quest to make him lose control and instead continues his teasing remarks. 

“Maker, if I’d known a simple confession was all it would take for you to beg for me so sweetly, I would have whispered my desires to you long ago.” Your nails sink into the nape of his neck instantly, and Wolffe returns the favor, fisting your robes into his hands and tugging on them until he heard the fabric tear beneath his fingers. Pushing your neck to the side with his nose, he takes in a deep breath from the space just below your ear and smiles to himself when the tempting scent of you rakes down his form and proves to him that, even though be was in charge of your body’s reactions, you still very much had a hold on him that would never evaporate. 

“Wolffe I- I’m…” He wasn’t going to interrupt you anymore, knowing that this was already a little difficult for you to come to terms with. But when you grow reluctant to continue whatever you’re about to say, Wolffe decides to have some mercy on you and stops distracting you with his mouth. 

“What is it? Tell me…I’ll give you anything you ask for cyar’ika, all you have to do is tell me. Let me make you feel good ner kar’ta.” He cooes lowly as he nips at the corner of your mouth, shutting his eyes for a moment to give you some privacy in case you wanted to avoid his piercing gaze. 

“Force help me, you’re…you’re making me nervous Wolffe.” It’s not what he expected to hear from you, mostly because you were a Jedi Master after all and he was just a Clone Commander. He’s a little offended at the exclamation but doesn’t let on of his discomfort so you don’t think you owe him any apology and refuse to tell him why he was making you nervous. 

“Whyever would you say little one?” He tries his best to ask with a calm, sincere tone, and he sighs in relief when you slowly come out of your shell, and reveal to him why you’re having a difficult time being so intimate with him. 

“I dreamt of you…every night, since I met you. Dreamt of your fingers taking me apart, your tongue caressing me until I saw stars, your eyes…maker, your eyes looking at me so intimately…the first to ever see all of me. And now that you’re here, I- I can’t…can’t-” Wolffe can’t believe what he’s hearing, and just as he’s about to ask you to keep telling him what you want him to do to you, you stop and shake your head once more before throwing your head into his chest and swear embarrassingly. His throat goes dry as he replays your words over and over again in his mind, and although he wants to pull your hair until your face is revealed to him again so he can force you to finish what you’re about to say, he doesn’t and prays to the maker that his resolve isn’t tested any further until you’re completely comfortable with him. 

“Can’t what? Can’t tell me how much you crave my touch? Can’t tell me what you want me to do to you? Go on ner jetii’ika, show me how desperate you are to feel me pleasure you.” He attempts to coax you out of your shell but his words have the opposite effect, making you tighten the hold you have around his neck even further to prevent him from trying to look into your eyes. 

“Please…wasn’t it enough that I showed you what I’ve dreamt of?” Wolffe barely hears you ask, and he smirks to himself as he roams his arms across your back and slips his hands underneath the holsters wrapped around your form. 

“Hmm,” he hums in appreciation, momentarily forgetting what you asked as he feels the muscles you’ve spent years training to form flex and shudder beneath his touch. 

“Wolffe?” Once again, as much as he hates to admit it, he enjoys how small your voice sounds in his presence when it was clear which of you had the upper hand.

“You didn’t show me anything I hadn’t already pictured a million times before tonight. Such a tease for taking them away before I…thoroughly enjoyed them.” Wolffe remarks as he tugs on the holsters, the sound of the leather stretching at his ministrations sending a zap of pleasure straight to his cock. For a moment, he pictures you in nothing but those holsters as he held onto them while he fucked you from behind until you were screaming his name. But the dream evaporates as soon as it forms when he remembers that you might see into his mind by accident and find his daydreams a little too blasphemous to your liking. After all, you only had this wrapped around you to keep your lightsaber comfortably within your reach. 

“Your whimpers and pleading words are music to my ears little one, but they won’t change my mind. Now, be a good girl and use your words. They’ve never failed you before.” Wolffe warns sternly, but he massages your back to soothe your worries when he feels your shaky breath fan over his jugular. Even though he wants to hear you tell him every bit of filthy dream you had of him, he doesn’t try to push you anymore.

“I- I can’t. I’ve never…I don’t know how to p-put into words what I want.” 

The meaning of your words hit Wolffe like a blaster to the heart, and he pushes down every bit of pride threatening to flood from his lips to make sure that he’s understood you correctly. 

“My sarad’ika…has no one touched you before?”

“N-no. To be honest, I was never really interested. And when we met, I- I didn’t think it would be right. It was either you or no one. It was always you Wolffe, I couldn’t stand the thought of giving this part of me to anyone else. You- you’re all I think about, all the time, everywhere I go…when I practice, when I fight…when I go to sleep each night. I’ve…I’ve touched myself to the mere thought of you, wondering what it would be like to feel your lips on my breasts as you made me yours, your hands on my throat as you told me all the things you wanted to do to me…your cock filling me as I begged you for more.”

Had he been a shiny, Wolffe is positive he wouldn’t have been able to stop himself from violently stripping you down to nothing and shoving his cock so far deep into your pussy until the whole of Coruscant knew who was fucking you so well. He’d be lying to himself if he said that this wasn’t a turn on, and he bites into his cheek to hold himself back from saying something about owning your body, and being the first and last man to claim your cunt. There was something so toxic and disgusting about the way his chest rumbled at the mere thought of him being your first, but he couldn’t deny how fucking hard it got him knowing that you hopelessly waited for him to experience this, that you couldn’t take such a step with anyone else except him. 

“Kriffing hells, you have no idea what you do to me. Hearing you confess to me things I never thought I’d ever get the chance to do to you…fuck sweetheart, you’re making it difficult to take this slow.” His hold on you is no longer loving but desperate, needy even, and dare he say, possessive. But he can’t find it in himself to care, not when he’s received so much more from you than he thought he ever would. 

“I don’t want slow, I don’t want you to hold back. I want- no, I need you to…to-”

“You don’t know what you’re asking mesh’la,” Wolffe’s breathless, as if the mere task of listening to you as you confess to him years of desires was as extraneous as an average rotation on the battlefield. He silently prays to the Force that you can sense why he wants you to not go any further and think of the consequences that may transpire should he give into what you’re asking of him. Now that he knew you’ve never experienced such a deep connection, both physical and emotional, with anyone else, he’s certain he cannot do to you what he’s thought of doing for all the time he’s known you. 

He would still ruin you for any other, that was certain, but he now knew he’d have to go about it at a much slower rate. You deserved to be seduced, to be wooed. Properly. And without haste. 

“Believe me I do, I’ve wanted nothing more. Please, we’ve spent so long denying this,” you manage to break his spiraling thoughts, not caring for how pathetically desperate you sound as you roamed your fingers across his chest and dug your nails into his muscles to drag his attention to you. The way you yearned to touch him, move against him, mark his skin with wet kisses the same way you knew he desired to do with you. 

“Our feelings for each other, our…our need to get lost in each other. Don’t make me wait anymore Wolffe, I- I can’t bear this anymore. I want you, all of you…every part of you that you’re willing to give me. Your sweetness and your desperation, your kisses and your bruises, your softness and your har-” The way you speak about him pushes Wolffe into a frenzy. He’s not sure if what he does next is due to wanting to warn you or to prove to you that he would gladly give you his soul if you asked for it, but he doesn’t dwell too much on it. Without so much as a warning, Wolffe slithers one hand to your throat and keeps you flush against him with his other arm as he violently pushes you until your back hits the wall. Forcing his thigh in between your legs, Wolffe nudges you forward until you’re perfectly nestled against the muscles of his leg, all the while tightening his grip on your throat until he sees you throw your head back in pleasure. 

“And you say you can’t find the words huh?” He nips at your jugular, biting down harsher than he intended when he sees how inviting your skin is, how it shuddered at the mere kiss of his lips. He sucks down hard even though he knows he shouldn’t leave any visible marks on your person. It’s only when he hears you moan his name that he unlatches his teeth from the slowly bruising skin. As much as he wants the stars to know who does this to you, he reminds himself to not leave any more marks that could easily be seen in the heat of battle. 

“W-wolffe,” you sigh against him, smiling when you sense his tongue lap at the painful sting ebbing away from your throat. 

“Is this what you want? You want me to use you, have my way with you until you’re pleading for me to slow down? Because I promise you, I will not stop until I’ve marked every bit of your skin, not so everyone knows you’re mine…but so you know who you belong to.” Wolffe warns you as he continues the journey across your heated body, emphasizing each word with a slight tug to your hair or a squeeze to your waist.

“Oh maker,” you tilt your head to the side and tremble as Wolffe assaults more of the skin available to his hungry eyes. You stop trying to fight against completely losing yourself in him, and instead surrender to his commanding whispers and loving touches. Even though you know you shouldn’t open yourself up to him through the Force because of how intense he might feel, you can’t help yourself anymore and decide to throw all caution aside. 

It was only fair after all. He made you yearn for so long.

But before you can completely open those gates for him, Wolffe breaks the silence and practically growls as he forces you to meet his lips in a heated kiss. He swallows your sighs and devours you like a delicacy, not leaving room for any misunderstanding of what he wants from you as he bucks his hips against your heated core once more. 

“Tell me. Tell me who you belong to. Tell me you’re mine.” 

It’s the perfect moment you think, perfect for what you’ve wanted to do for so long. Not daring to break eye contact with him even for a second, you let all of your walls down completely and watch as he takes in each sliver of emotion you’ve reserved only for him ever since the two of you were introduced.

Wolffe is overwhelmed by the flood of sensations filling each of his senses, but he stands his ground and channels what you’re gifting him with into every bit of skin coming in contact with his own. 

“I- I’m yours Wolffe, I’ve always been yours. From the very first moment I met you, you had a hold on my very soul.”

“I won’t ever let you go cyare, not unless you ask me to.” Wolffe’s voice breaks as the feelings you’ve long hidden from the stars continue to come crashing on him. And when he’s sure he has a grip on his voice once more, he promises you again to ensure you understand the depth of his commitment to you.

“Fuck, please just- just touch me already. Make me feel good, make me feel what it’s like to be wanted, to be the object of your desires.” You whine when he doesn’t try to strip you of your clothes right away and instead leaves a slow trail of kisses across your clothed shoulders. Somehow, his lips burn you through your clothes, and although there’s something blasphemous about Wolffe marking you through your Jedi robes, you can’t help but focus more on the erotic nature of his desperation, of how he couldn’t care any less that there were clothes preventing him from leaving more permanent proof of his touches. It was equally shameful and exhilarating.

“Oh sweetheart, no matter how much I tell you or kiss you or even drive my cock in your warm cunt, I won’t ever truly prove to you the extent of my lo-” You silence him with a bruising kiss, one that would be ingrained into Wolffe’s mind for all his days. He growls his pleasure into your open mouth, biting and sucking on your tongue and lips until you were shaking in his arms from the intensity of his touches. 

“But I’ll be damned if I don’t try,” Wolffe removes his hand from around your neck and smirks when he hears you whine at the loss of it. He doesn’t offer you a moment of respite, groping you everywhere he can reach until he rests his palms on your lower back. You barely have any time to register what he’s doing, gasping and giggling when he easily lifts you up until you cross your legs behind his back. He pushes you into the wall once more, not once removing his eyes from your dazed facial expressions as he slowly rolls his hips into your heated core. You sigh as you feel him hard and ready for you between your thighs, shivering with anticipation when his thrusts increase and make you gush for him. Embarrassment washes over you and Wolffe must feel it because his smirk only deepens as he pushes his clothed cock harshly against you and whispers words of encouragement into your neck. He grunts when he notices how easily your clothes slide against him the more he presses into you and as he inhales deeply, he can’t help but squeeze your thighs as soon as the scent of your arousal seeps into his senses. 

“I can almost taste your sweet pussy on my tongue sweetheart, and I want nothing more than to have you fall apart on my mouth,” he mouths against the collar of shirt, already wishing you were naked and ready for him to do as he pleases. He’s about to bring you to your cot when he takes notice of where your hand is moving, and he instantly grabs your wrist and keeps it against his lower stomach to prevent you from touching him elsewhere. 

“Wolffe, let me worship you.” The intensity of your words almost makes him lose his hold on you, but he blinks at you a few times to collect his bearings before he shakes his head and leans over to kiss the corner of your mouth. 

“As much as I want to feel the warmth of your mouth wrapped around my cock, I- I can’t let you degrade yourself in such a way. You’re the one who should be worshiped little one…I should be on my knees begging you to let me have a taste.” A sense of insecurity slithers into Wolffe’s chest at the prospect of being denied to have you, one that he unfortunately can’t keep hidden from you for too long. You must sense where his thoughts are going because you push his hand aside and continue your journey down his form until you cup him through his blacks. Wolffe hesitates for a second, torn between wrenching your fingers away and bucking into the warmth of your palm. When you lean down and lick across his neck, Wolffe loses all coherent thought and slowly pushes his hard length into your hand. 

“Why beg for something you already have, Commander? If anything, I should be the one on my knees, bringing you pleasure for all those times you saved me. I should be kissing every bit of your skin, showing you how much I-” He’s distracted by the sweetness of your words, only to snap out of the haze you’ve put him under when he pays attention to the lewd exclamations you’re whispering across the skin of his neck. 

Pfassk. Did you really think he protected you because he was hoping you’d sleep with him?

“You- you don’t owe me anything mesh’la, certainly not for doing my job.” He tries to clear the air instantly, afraid that there was some truth to what you’re telling him in the heat of the moment. 

“And here I thought y-you’d jump at the chance to-” Wolffe can tell you’re trying to make light of the sudden change in subjects but he doesn’t let you go on, knowing that if there was even the smallest bit of you that truly thought you had to sleep with him to thank him, that you weren’t doing this because you wanted to, he wouldn’t be able to take this further. 

He’d have to leave. 

“You have to know cyar’ika, you have to know that I…I’d never expect this from you. All those missions we went on, I did what I did because I wanted to, because I had to make sure you’re safe, not so you could- kriff, this isn’t what-” Much to his dislike, words escaped him now that he wanted to ensure you understood the true reason behind his watchful eyes. The last thing Wolffe needed was for you to think him capable of being this unethical. As he’s about to try and voice those concerns to you, he hears you giggle sweetly as you let go of his hair and rest your palm softly against his cheek. The whirlpool of emotions he finds storming in your eyes are too familiar to his liking, and when he tries to avoid your gaze, you keep your hold on his jaw, silently asking him to not turn away from you. 

“Sweet Commander, I know. I can feel your loyalty, can sense your lo- hmm, can sense how much you care for me through the Force. It’s always been there in the back of my mind, this flickering, warm flame that always made me feel safe whenever I thought we wouldn’t make it out alive. I know you Wolffe, and I wouldn’t dream of thinking you’d expect something like this from me.” Wolffe shouldn’t be this shocked by your revelation. This was nothing compared to what you confessed to him so far. Yet he couldn’t help the strong adoration that bubbled in his chest at the mention of his Force signature and how it was a source of protection to you. He was never one to ask about the Force or Jedi abilities, and it came as a surprise to him that throughout the time he’s known you, fought alongside you, you were aware of this need he had deep within his heart. The need to protect you at all costs. 

He didn’t know whether this new-found knowledge meant that you also know of his feelings towards you, and as much as he wanted to ask if you've known all along, he holds back out of fear of breaking this moment. 

“Cyar’ika, I’d die before I let anything happen to you, I swear it.” 

Wolffe takes notice of the strange look which crosses through your features as soon as his words float in between the two of you. It’s eerily similar to the one you gave him not too long ago when he tried to ask you what your words could possibly mean, and before he can put you down and ask if he should slow down, you smile down at him and slowly rest your forehead against his own. The gesture drives him mad with lust, and he thinks it might be even more intense because he can still feel the warmth of your hand atop his clothed cock. He lets out a shaky breath, one that he hopes you understand is due to the further shift in the dynamic between the two of you and not because he was nervous of taking this a step further. 

“I know...ner al’verde.”

His heart ceases to beat as soon as those two words leave your lips, and for a moment, Wolffe is filled with anxiety at the thought of you understanding what he said to you before. He’d assumed you knew what he tried to convey to you to some degree, but now that you were responding to him in Mando’a, Wolffe had the sense that you knew for certain what he confessed to you. 

If only he was brave enough to say it to you in Basic, without the need to hide behind his native tongue. 

He wants to say so much, offer you everything that belongs to him, whisper to you his undying love and adoration, but as he looks upon you now and notices the sliver of sadness swimming in your eyes, he decides that it would be best to just show you. 

Stepping away from the wall, Wolffe trails his eyes across your face slowly as he walks towards your cot, not once removing his gaze from you if only to commit this moment to memory. He gulps nervously as he nudges your nose softly before he molds his lips with your own. The sigh you grace him with calms him down and he loses himself into the kiss as he sits down on your cot with you in his lap. He stays there for a while, knowing that as soon as one of you breaks the kiss, the intensity of what’s transpiring between the two of you will have reached its zenith, and he won’t be able to hold back,

There would be no going back. 

You must sense why he’s prolonging the inevitable because as Wolffe busies himself with memorizing the softness and warmth of your lips against his skin, you slowly descend your hand down his form and cup him through his blacks again. Wolffe groans as he deepens the kiss, no longer reluctant to have you touch him in such a way now that he knew how much you craved him. His breathing is erratic, but he doesn’t shy away from the lack of control he displays as you ease yourself against him further. When the need for air becomes too much, you break the kiss and rest your forehead against his own. 

“You feel so- so hard, so thick.” 

Wolffe is sure you’re not actively trying to give him a heart attack but merely voicing your observations of new sensations. That doesn’t make your words any less lethal, however, and the more you squeeze around his hard dick, the tighter his chest contracts at the prospect of finally experiencing what he’s dreamt of for so long. 

“You do this to me mesh’la. One look at you and I- karking hell sweetheart, I lose my sanity.” He barely manages to respond, voice breaking at the last few syllables when he feels you slip down from his lap and onto the floor. His eyes widen, no longer in shock but anticipation, at the silent promise you’re giving him. He fists his hands tightly into the soft covers beneath him, finding your own orbs more fiery than when you’re leading whole battalions in battle. 

“Let me show you what you do to me Commander, please.” Unlike before, when embarrassment prevented you from telling him everything you’ve wanted to do with him, you’re a little more composed now, and Wolffe hopes it’s only a facade because some part of him wants you to be as wrecked as him, as maddingly turned-on as him. 

He’s snapped out of the haze you’ve put him under when he feels a warm, wet sensation spread across his crotch. Blinking away from the momentary distraction, Wolffe chokes on his breath when he looks down and sees you licking across his clothed cock. You’re looking straight into his eyes, nails digging into his thighs as you mouth and kiss at his length through his blacks, leaving a damp trail of lava behind each caress. It’s positively filthy, and the saliva collecting on your tongue and falling onto the fabric of his uniform unintentionally causes him to thrust up against you. 

“I want you to tell me how to please you Wolffe, I- I want you to tell me so no one else can plague your dreams but me, so each time you touch yourself, you remember my mouth and my hands as they brought you pleasure.” You rest your cheek against the tent in his blacks, lightly kissing his cock as it twitches against your heated skin. When he doesn’t respond right away, you slide your hands up and down his thighs before pushing them apart as far as possible. Wolffe stares at you in silence, incapable of forming so much as a syllable the longer he takes you in. As much as you appreciate the effect you’re having on him, the bit of patience you still have begins to evaporate and you decide to throw all propriety aside. Maintaining his gaze, you kneel down further until you come face to face with the space between his thighs. Without missing a beat, you lean over and nose at his hard cock softly, shutting your eyes and taking in a deep breath to let his natural musk hit your nostrils. It’s perhaps the most unhinged, desperate act you’ll ever take upon his person, but you don’t care how you must appear to him right now. All you know is, you wanted to smell him where he’s most vulnerable, most natural, most…him. 

There’s a spike of something otherworldly in his Force signature, and before you can try to wrap your mind around it, you feel his fingers drag against your scalp and intertwine in your hair. As soon as you open your eyes, Wolffe tugs your hair and pushes you harshly against his cock. He wants nothing more than to feel your lips around him, but something about the way you welcome the rough handling as you inhale his scent makes him lose control. He doesn’t look away once as he assaults your senses with frantic touches and whispered commands. 

“Go on my little jetii, be a good sweetheart and take me in that perfect mouth of yours. Make me scream your name mesh’la.” Wolffe growls at you, the deep brown of his eye barely shining through his dilated pupil. You’re not sure what makes you whine against him, whether it was how focused his other eye seemed to be as you trailed your fingers up to the waistband of his blacks, or the breathless way in which he begged you to please him. You don’t dwell much on it, not wanting to waste another second teasing him and yourself. Not moving away from his crotch until you absolutely had to, you slip your fingers softly beneath the edge of his blacks and pull them down, smiling up at Wolffe when he slightly raises his hips to help you. You don’t know what you expected to see as you lowered his uniform down his legs, but a pair of skin-tight boxers prevent you from leaning down and taking him into your mouth. You pout at the article of clothing only to correct your expression when you hear Wolffe chuckling above you as the hold he has on your hair tightens. 

“So needy for me already, aren’t you little one?” Wolffe takes his lower lip in between his teeth, fighting against his instinct to drag you into his lap and claim your mouth again. The wetness of your tongue as it rolls over the wet patch on his boxers forces a grunt out of his mouth, making you giggle at him in return. 

“D-do you blame me? I’ve only wanted to suck your cock ever since we met.” You hum at him lewdly, raising a curious eyebrow when you sense the surprise emanating across his Force signature. 

“T-that early on?” Even though you told him multiple times how much you want him, even showed him every dream you had of him, Wolffe is still a little shocked that you were attracted to him ever since the two of you were introduced. He never thought he was important, especially among the Jedi generals, but to think that he was able to get your attention that quickly…

“Oh yes, and it only got worse after that. Each bit of attention you offered me, I’d- maker, I would struggle all day long until I finally returned to my quarters.Years of training to become a Jedi Master...right down the drain Wolffe, and all because of the way you looked at me.” You pull the rest of his blacks off, and take a moment to admire the muscles of his thighs and legs. Wolffe is buzzing with pent-up energy, finding it difficult to breathe when he sees you eyeing him like a rare, exotic fruit. 

“And now that I’m here, so close to tasting you, feel you heavy against my tongue…gods, it’s maddening. Absolutely maddening.” Again, Wolffe is positive you aren’t purposely pushing him to lose his mind, but with each teasing comment you throw at him, he has to call on his training so he doesn’t fuck you into the next planet. 

“Please sweetheart, let me…let me feel you.” His voice is strained, sounding a little off to his own ears even, but he doesn’t dare say anything else when he sees your fingers trail up his flushed thighs until they slip underneath the skin-tight boxers. He watches closely as you dig your nails into his thighs and push them as far up as possible without the fabric threatening to rip. 

“You’re so good Commander, so fucking good…but I can sense how bad you can be, how bad you want to be.” Wolffe is not sure if this is a mere observation on your part or if you were warning him away from his lust-filled thoughts, but when you quickly remove your hands and forcefully pull down that last bit of clothing hiding him from your gaze, he knows immediately you’re only trying to provoke him, maybe even push him far enough until he truly lost control and used you. His hands let go of you and return to his side, one last attempt at not forcing himself on you anymore than he already has. He throws his head back for a second to try and collect his bearings. 

But his attention is snapped back down to you when he hears you whisper a few swears to yourself. Wolffe tries to gauge your reaction to finally seeing him, hoping to the maker that he wasn’t disappointing you. When you remain quiet and continue to stare at his painfully hard cock, Wolffe reaches down and softly cups your cheek in his calloused palm to turn your attention back to him. 

“Am I…pleasing to you?” Wolffe was never self-conscious about his size, not by a long shot, but he finds himself wanting to hear you tell him that you were happy with him, all of him. He doesn’t know what you expected to see and he hopes that you’re reaching out through the Force and sensing the anxiety filling his heart, not to lie to him about his size or anything, but just to know that he was going to try his best and pleasure you even if he wasn’t impressive enough. 

“Stars, I’ve thought of you so often, when we went on missions together, when I stood aside and watched you train with the others…when- kriffing hells, when you kept watch during long rotations on those backwater planets,” Wolffe watches as your chest rises and falls rapidly with each breath you take, and he finds his own heartbeat losing rhythm when you lick your lip before descending down on him. He doesn’t know what to expect, but it’s certainly not you fisting your hands in his shirt and shoving it up his chest before sliding your tongue from the base of his cock all the way to his navel. He hisses at the sudden hot and wet sensation your rather innocent tongue leaves across his skin, and he wonders briefly if this is what lava feels like as it destroys everything in its path. Wolffe can’t take his eyes off of you, and he gulps nervously when you finally look up at him as you kiss across the flexing muscles of his abdomen. Wolffe is paralyzed by your gaze alone, and he holds his breath to prepare for whatever you had in mind for him. 

“But nothing-”

Kiss.

“Would have prepared me…”

Bite.

“For how beautiful your cock is.”

Before Wolffe can respond, you spread one hand across his lower abdomen and firmly grasp his quivering thigh with the other, smiling at him one last time before leaning down and taking the tip of his dick in your mouth. Wolffe falls back onto the cot when he feels your tongue swipe across the pre-cum threatening to roll down his length, and it takes every ounce of strength in his body to push himself up on his elbows so he doesn’t miss one second of the sight of you as you worshiped him.

“Sweetheart-”

“Hmm.” You hum at the shudder of his voice, softly moving your head up and down his achingly hard length to get used to him. You remove your hand from his stomach and softly wrap it around the rest of him that can’t fit in your mouth, pushing on his thigh with your other palm to urge him to spread his legs wider for you. He willingly obliges and finally releases a deep sigh, lips parting and letting out a string of curses when you apply more pressure on the base of his cock. 

Wolffe is mesmerized, mostly because of how confident and playful you’re being with him now when a few minutes prior, you were hiding in his neck as you showed him what your filthy little mind came up with every night in your bed. He reaches for your hair once more, but remembers why he shouldn’t touch you there and retracts it immediately. The action doesn’t go unnoticed by you, and you remove him from your mouth long enough and kiss the crown of his dick to get his attention. He’s not sure how such an innocent gesture could feel so fucking dirty but he whines as soon as he doesn’t feel your hot, wet mouth wrapped around him anymore. 

“Mesh’la, you- you’re killing me.” Wolffe chokes on the words, and he can’t help himself from following the trail of saliva extending from your lips to his cock. He unintentionally bucks into your palm when you firmly grasp him and jerk him off as you respond to him. 

“Tell me, oh please Wolffe…tell me how to make you feel good. I- I want you to guide me, guide my lips around you…you’re- I didn’t think you’d feel so heavy on my tongue, but you feel so good, so hard and- maker…your scent. You smelled so- so spicy and sweet before, but your taste, it’s like nothing I’ve ever tasted before. It’s intoxicating…please Wolffe, fuck my mouth if you have to, use me like I know you want to…like I know you pictured a thousand times.” Gone is the clear-minded, self-controlled Jedi Master he’s fought alongside for many rotations, and Wolffe groans deeply when he notices how desperate you are to make him forget his name. He gulps nervously as he slowly stretches his hand and holds it above your head, waiting for a few more seconds to ensure that this is truly what you wanted. When he doesn’t find any hesitation swimming in your eyes, he fists his hand into your hair and tugs it back to reveal your features more clearly to him. 

“You want me fuck your mouth sweetheart?” It’s times like these when Wolffe thanks his perceptiveness because he pinpoints the second his words hit you and forced what he can only describe as a whorish-moan from your lips to veil his cock. 

“More than anything.”

“More than my cock filling your pretty little cunt?” It must not be what you expected him to say because you hesitate in your response to him, rightfully so he thinks. Instead of stretching this out longer than necessary, Wolffe takes pity on you and brings you back to his dick. He calls on all the strength left in his muscles to sit up once more, and as he does, he smirks to himself when he sees the way you eye the flexing muscles of his abdomen. Letting go of you for a moment, he makes quick work of his shirt and throws it aside, basking in the way your eyes seem to glaze over him with lust as he finally revealed all of himself to your hungry gaze. 

“Wolffe…”

He doesn’t bother to grace you with a response as he combs his fingers in your messy hair again. A random thought plagues his mind and he chuckles to himself when he sees the anticipation buzzing across your body.

“Do you have any idea how beautiful you look right now? With your messy hair and your bruised lips...fuck sweetheart, I thought you looked ethereal on the battlefield, but that’s nothing compared to the sight of you now.” He traces your bottom lip with his thumb, applying the slightest pressure on the bruised skin until you part your lips and whine for him to put you out of your misery. 

“And only I get to see you like this, no one else.” A shudder courses across your form as he lets those words hang in the air, making the predatory smile on his features widen as he lowers his head closer towards you. You think he’s about to kiss and you part your lips in offering so he could do whatever he wants with you. The thought quickly escapes when Wolffe shifts his tongue a moment before he spits on your tongue, winking down at you when he sees the shocked expression overtaking your eyes. 

Wolffe is afraid he’s crossed a line and quickly forms an apology when he feels a flickering of a wave pass through his mind’s eye. His gaze never leaves you as you prode his mind, and his hold on your hair grows painful when he realizes what you’re doing. 

Permission to swallow…Commander?

Your voice echoes in his mind as clearly as when you order him on the battlefield, and he almost cums then and there from the intimacy of the moment. There’s something equally erotic and filthy about you refusing to move a muscle so you don’t lose his essence and choosing to ask him for an order through the Force. It’s not that he didn’t expect you to react in such a way, it’s that he never thought he’d witness you using the Force so easily in a moment defined by nothing except complete lust. 

“Good girl, sweet girl…because you asked so nicely, I’ll give you the option. Would you rather swallow me like the filthy sarad’ika I know you are…or would you rather me fuck your mouth and mix my spit and cum on your tongue?” It’s almost as if he’s asking you how you enjoy your caf, and although you shouldn’t be surprised by his behavior, you can’t help but grow shy at the answer you conjure up as soon as the question rolls off his tongue. 

“What will it be, hmm?” He lightly caresses your cheek, urging you to be completely honest with him. 

Can- can I have both?

Wolffe raises a curious eyebrow at your response, and he notices how you look away from him out of embarrassment at the implication behind your request. 

“Look at you, such a fucking whore for me and we barely even started. Is that what you want mesh’la? You want to take me down that beautiful throat of yours so I can spit in your mouth again?” Wolffe pushes his thumb on your tongue and rubs it across, not caring for how his cock twitches in your palms as he feels you lean into his touch. 

Please.

It’s a simple syllable and yet it lights an unnerving sense of possessive fire in Wolffe’s chest. To think you were letting all your walls down in front of him and no one else. 

“Hmm, you beg so sweetly ner jetii’ika. Go on then, swallow me down and I’ll give you some more.” The order barely fills the tense air for a few seconds, and Wolffe watches as you make a show of mixing his spit with your own before gulping it down altogether. You clench your thighs when you read the unhinged thoughts storming through Wolffe’s mind, and before he can take back his promise, you lean up and part your lips even wider, patiently waiting for him to do what he wishes. 

“Cyar’ika, I don’t think I’ll ever be able to get enough of you. I always thought that- maker, I thought I only needed to have you once to satisfy this need…this aching. But having you here, on your knees, waiting like a good girl for me to do as I please and give you what you want, I know…I know that once will not be enough. It will never be enough.” The more Wolffe reveals to you, the dizzier you become and the harder it gets to remain patient. Ever the gentleman, he doesn’t keep you waiting and moves right above you to give you what you crave, except this time, Wolffe doesn’t spit in your mouth. No, he slowly lets his spit stretch down until there’s a direct line connecting his tongue to your own. You try to move closer to him but he keeps you where you are, chuckling lightly when you finally feel him on your tongue and refuse to move again. He’s not sure how long the two of you sit there, but when he thinks you’ve had enough, he licks his lower lip and sits up again. 

“Fuck, it won’t ever be enough.” He whispers, more to himself than you, as he lowers you down until you’re inches away from his painfully hard dick. 

“Go on, show me how much you want me baby.” You melt at the constant use of petnames he’s calling you with, not wasting another precious moment away from his cock as you nuzzle into his thigh one last time before you get to work. 

Thank you, Commander.

Wolffe grunts deeply, not sure how the sight of you rubbing your cheek against the underside of his cock could look both cute and dirty. In the end, this little detail doesn’t matter because it’s the sound of your dazed voice as you call him by his rank that unravels him so easily. His fingers twist and turn in your hair as you lay the tip of his dick on your tongue while you watch him. He can’t take his eyes off of you, of the way his spit begins to mix with your own as you roll your tongue around the pre-cum leaking from the reddened head of his cock. He forces his hips to remain immobile, knowing that if he so much as thrusts them easily against your hand, he’d start fucking your mouth in no time. 

Show me what you like, please.

He knows he’ll never get over the sound of your voice spreading through every corner of his mind, or how breathless and soft it becomes as it rings down to his chest, and he clears his throat to attempt and respond to your pleading request with some coherence. Words fail him, however, when your teeth gently graze the underside of his cock, and he unintentionally thrusts against your wet tongue when he feels it trace the protruding veins throbbing down his hard length. There’s an apology threatening to unfold through his lips, but Wolffe becomes even more distracted when he suddenly feels a wave of warmth wash over him like a rare, mellow ripple in those peaceful ponds across Felucia. 

It occurs to him then that, somehow, he has not witnessed the true breadth of your power  just yet because he is sure the burning sensation coursing through his veins was very much an extension of what you were feeling. It’s unlike anything he's ever experienced before, and he files this bit of information for later because he may not be interested in all things Jedi-related, but he was certainly fascinated with everything that had to do with you and your extraordinary abilities. He lets the veil of fire take over him completely as he studies you, and a smile breaks on his features out all of a sudden when he winks at you and watches as you grow flustered at the scrutiny of his gaze. 

Wolffe, fuck my mouth.

You may not have meant it as a distraction, but Wolffe’s smirk falters as your request replays in his mind over and over again. No longer afraid of being too rough with you, Wolffe spreads his thighs obscenely widely to get comfortable and begins to buck his hips into your mouth. You hum in pleasure as soon as you feel him push farther down your throat, and before either of you know it, the two of you are moaning and grunting as Wolffe drives his cock across your tongue. 

“Oh fuck sweetheart, you feel so kriffing perfect. My pretty jetii’ika, can’t- can’t get enough of me, can you?” Wolffe refuses to look away even for a moment and he bites into his lower lip when he sees how willing you are to submit to him. He never thought he’d ever have this with you. You were so much more than him, so powerful and beautiful, a General who received respect from even complete strangers. Even though you told him several times that you would never do this with anyone but him, Wolffe can’t fathom how you were on your knees for someone like him. His stomach flutters as he watches you worship his cock like you said you wanted to, and he moans your name like a prayer as he feels the warmth of your mouth engulf him time and again. 

“Right there mesh’la, keep- fuck…keep taking me down your throat. You’re doing so good baby, so fucking good for me…letting me use you to get off, f-fuck your mouth like you’re mine.” He palms your cheek and whines when you take him deeper, the sweet gesture of his calloused hand not going unnoticed by you. He knows you can probably feel what he would like to do to you, and he hopes that the soft caress of his fingers against your heated cheeks is enough to let you know that he could never hurt you, not unless you specifically asked him to. 

But…I am yours.

Your voice rings in his mind again, and he’s not sure how you manage to sound so seductive when it only echoes like a whisper. The knowledge that you felt the need to say such a thing as you licked across the hardness of his dick makes him impossibly flustered, and he tries his best to convey to you what you’re doing to him but it only comes out as a string of broken words. 

“Ahh f-fuck, you- you’re really…keep doing that and I won’t be able to-” He chokes on his breath when you slide your tongue against the tip of his cock a little harder as you suck him in bewteen your lips. Wolffe tries his best not to come then and there, but as he looks down and sees more saliva rolling down your chin to your hands, he knows that it won’t be long before he’s shooting his cum down your throat. You collect some of the drool from your skin and wipe it against his balls to make them wet, and Wolffe knows that he must have died and gone to whatever heaven existed because he is sure you aren’t trying to be sexy but it turned him on too much. 

Doing what, Commander? Sucking your cock or telling you to claim me?

He sighs and throws his head back for a split second before remembering that he wanted to commit every moment to memory. As he returns his gaze upon you again, he finds your eyes impossibly wide, their attention strictly on him and nowhere else. He’s panting heavily, the need to shove his cock into your mouth outweighing everything else, and just as he’s about to warn you, you narrow your eyes at him and move one of your hands up his thighs. He follows the movement and hisses when you dig your nails into his navel, the action unintentionally causing him to buck against you a little rougher than he’d like. 

“Both…fucking both. You look so fucking sweet like this cyar’ika, mouth full of my cock. And your- sith hells, your pretty little hands wrapped around me, messy with our spit and my- fffuck. Oh fuck, just like that.” Wolffe wanted to apologize, but as he stares down at you, he finds himself forgetting whatever was on his mind and instead praising you for making him feel good. The smile you throw his way as you mouth at the side of his length and tease the protruding veins shouldn’t make him want to push you to the floor and fuck you into the next galaxy, but he feels his chest give out at the thought of losing his control from you simply smirking at him.

Thank you, sir. You- you’re looking pretty sweet yourself.

“Shit, you’re so kriffing filthy, letting me fuck your throat like a whore. Maybe- oh pfassk, maybe I’m not being rough enough with you if- if you’re still talking.” He raises a curious, teasing eyebrow when he sees you shiver at his words, and slithers his hand across your skin to the back of your head to see how you’d react. When you nod frantically at him and push against the palm of his hand, Wolffe smiles and pushes you down on his cock, growling into the night air as pleasure zaps down his spine when he feels your teeth slightly graze his warm skin. 

Do whatever you want with me Wolffe. I’ll take it.

“And here I thought I would- ahh, I’d put that mouth to good use if I filled it up with my cock. Come on sweetheart, less talking and- hmmm, more sucking.” He pushes you down as he thrusts his hips up against you, completely losing himself to the touch of your soft hands and wet mouth as you bring him closer to the edge. Never in his life did he think he’d find himself at your mercy, but here he was, talking down at you like you weren’t his commanding officer who had every right to right him up for insubordination. 

Hm, now there was a thought. There was definitely some insubordination involved with the two of you, but it was more on your end than his. 

Like this?

“Yeah, yeah baby…just like that.” He huffs out a laugh from the sheer ecstasy coursing through his veins, and he waits until you close your eyes to accommodate more of him before he extends down to take your hand into his. Your eyes shoot open immediately, and Wolffe thinks you’re shaking your head because he’s being too rough, but when you eye his hand and your own, he realizes that you didn’t want him to make a mess of himself as well. Wolffe winks at you as he drags your fingers against his and holds onto them as he raises your hand to his mouth until he kisses your wet knuckles. You whimper at how positively filthy yet sweet he’s being, and take him out of your mouth to let him know how much you adore him. But then you become distracted with the way his ballsack twitches as more of your drool slides down his skin, and you lick your lips at the idea of making them even messier with your tongue.  

“Go on ner sarad’ika, I can s-see you want to. Be a good girl and suck my balls, show me what that filthy little mind of yours imagined at night when you touched yourself. Show me what you wanted to do with me, love. Shit…that’s it, take me like the mesh’la cockwhore I know you are.” His grip on your hand tightens as he pulls you more against him, wanting to feel every bit of your skin slide against his own as you left your mark on the most intimate part of him. You gulp at the sudden display of desperation, licking your lips as Wolffe spreads his thighs wider to give you more space. You rest your cheek on his thigh as you continue to jerk him off, never once looking away from his features as you kiss the area between his hips and his cock. He hisses at the action but says nothing else as you descend on him and nose at his length. 

“Only for you Wolffe, always for you.” You moan for him right as you sink further down and scent his balls, smiling to yourself when you look up and see Wolffe having difficulty breathing. He stops trying to focus on what you’re doing as soon as you kiss and lick at his balls before you take one inside your mouth. The sudden pressure and heat of your mouth as you alternate between sucking on his balls and licking at the base of his cock drives him mad with lust, and he can’t help but comb his fingers into your hair and pull on it to have some semblance of control. 

“That’s right sweetheart, no one gets to see you like this. N-no one gets to feel you like this. Maker…your hands are so soft, and your mouth is- it’s fucking heaven. Tell me, ner kar’ta…tell me you’re mine. Tell me you- gods, tell me no one else will get this close to you but me. Please, oh fuh- I’m already so close love, so fucking close…see what you do to me?” He’s a whimpering mess, and you feel a sense of pride wash over you the more you think about how you managed to make the Commander Wolffe, leader of the 104th Battalion, plead and sigh your name so sweetly as he lost himself in your touch. 

You know better than to let your feelings run away with you, but something about the way he begs you to tell him that he’ll be the only one to touch you so intimately makes you feel a sense of possessiveness. You give yourself the chance to meditate on those strong feelings for half a moment before you remember that it may be more beneficial to focus on pleasuring him and not anything else that might spiral you down into longing thoughts. 

I’m yours, Wolffe. All yours Commander, won’t look at anyone else but you. Won’t let anyone touch me but you.

Wolffe sighs in relief at finally hearing an answer to what’s been on his mind ever since he walked into your quarters tonight. He knows better than to feel so strongly attached to you, but he doesn’t know what he’d do if you ever thought of being this close and intimate with someone other than him. Then again, it wasn’t like he needed to abide by your rules as well. Jedi could never form attachments, but that doesn’t mean that he didn’t already have one for you. Maker knows how tethered his life became to your own ever since he met you. 

“You make me so karking needy sen’ika, so hard and wanting with the sight of you. Make me lose my mind just by looking at you. Oh fuck…please sweetheart, don’t stop. M-make me cum baby, make me cum so I can mark you up, so I can claim your mouth. You going to let me cum down your throat baby? Hmm? Fill you up with my seed till you beg for some more? Till e-every one of your holes is full of my cum?” He doesn’t know what’s gotten into him or if he should perhaps control the words falling from his lips. But one look at you confirms to him that you were enjoying this side of him, perhaps more than you were letting on. The more he spoke of much he wants to mark your body, the more enthusiastic you become in your touches, and if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you genuinely wanted him to fuck you in every way possible, perhaps cum down your throat, your cunt, and your ass all night long until there was no mistaking who was bringing you pleasure. 

Please Wolffe, give it to me. I want to taste you. 

His muscles shake with an intensity unlike anything he’s ever experienced as your words settle in his mind. Wolffe couldn’t fathom you wanting him this badly. It made no sense to him that you’d want to take everything he’s giving you and beg for more. It’s not as if he’s never had someone go down on him, far from it. It’s just that he never thought you, a well-respected, renowned Jedi Master and General would debase yourself so easily for him. And not only that, but to continue pleading for him to take whatever he wants, however he needs it. 

“Fuck, I can’t. I need to- maker, sweetheart you’re going to make me cum…oh gods, oh fuck- keep your eyes on me. Let me- let me watch you swallow my cum cyare, let me mark you up and- ahh fffucking hell I’m c-cuh…” His chest ripples with harsh breaths as he tries to hold off the pleasure as much as possible. In the end, it was not the gorgeous heat of your mouth engulfing his balls or the soft, caresses of your lips mouthing at the underside of his cock, or even your expert hands coaxing pleasure from the tip of his dick that made him shoot his cum down your throat. 

No, it was the sound of your voice whispering your wishes for him to mark your tongue and fill your mouth with his seed that made the knot deep in his stomach unravel quickly and suddenly until he was emptying himself down your throat. 

Cum for me, please. I’ve wanted to taste you for so long, Commander. Cum in my mouth.

Wolffe pulls on your hair harshly to keep you in place as he growls his release, finding it difficult to keep his eyes on you as he shoves his cock so far down your throat until you’re gagging around him. He bites into his lower lip when he feels your hand squeezing tightly around his own and forcing him to come closer to you. Your upper body is flush against his thighs and his chest quivers when he finally focuses on how warm your skin feels as you swallow around him. Your throat is constricting with every movement you make, and Wolffe realizes that he’s being too rough with you. Before he can pull away however, you hum around him and keep warming his dick with your mouth, your other hand going to his ballsack and massaging it until he was oversensitive. He tries to push you away another time but you shake your head and shut your eyes, relishing the taste of him as his hard length slowly softens on your tongue. Your eyes flutter open, and Wolffe feels sick to his stomach when he finds the tears rolling down your cheek impossibly sexy. 

He doesn’t dare move an inch, wanting you to take whatever you want from him until you’re satisfied. When you let go of his hand, Wolffe removes his own fingers from your hair and falls back onto the bed, barely managing to keep himself on his elbows. He throws his head back for a split second, wanting to distract himself from the way your tongue slithers around the head of his cock. His attention, however, snaps back to you when he feels you remove him from your mouth and kiss down the length of him. He’s breathing heavily, incapable of looking away from the sight of you as you leave soft kisses on his cock before returning your attention to the tip of his dick until you were sure he’s emptied his balls. Wolffe is close to begging you to slow down when you suddenly open your mouth and swirl your tongue around the mess of his cum and your saliva. He chokes on whatever he’s about to say as you continue to push the mixture of fluids around your mouth until you lean down and kiss his cock one last time before swallowing everything he’s given you. Wolffe swears beneath his breath as you make a show of letting him know you didn’t waste a single drop of his cum, and he groans in frustration as he feels the familiar sensation of blood flowing down his navel to his cock again.

Fuck, there was no way he was growing hard already!

“You…you’re going to be the death of me sen’ika.” Wolffe huffs in between chuckles, his eyes boring into yours lovingly the more you showered his flushed skin with kisses. His muscles are sore but they slowly begin to buzz with energy when he sees the way you’re looking at his sweaty skin. He swears there’s a fire in your eyes he’s never seen before, not even in the midst of battle, as you trail them up his body. He can’t help but smile at you then, not one of those teasing or cocky smiles, but a soft expression that he hoped conveyed to you how glad he was that you found him to your liking. 

“Did I-” your voice comes out hoarse, barely louder than a whisper even, and Wolffe smirks when he sees the way you avoid his gaze as you wipe the corner of your mouth with the back of your hand. He reaches towards you and smears his thumb across your lips, forcing you to tilt your chin up and look at him. When he holds your attention for a few seconds, you clear your throat and slither your hand up to his wrist, blinking at him a few times as you grip his forearm tightly to keep yourself grounded.

“W-was I okay?” There is a hint of worry swimming in between your words, and Wolffe chuckles at the absurdity of such a question. He’s sure you can tell how sated he feels at the moment, and the thought that you still had any doubt in your mind of the effect you have on him makes him want to shake you to sense. He barely manages to find strength in him to sit up, and when he does, he reaches down and takes your cheeks in his hands. You blink at him shyly, and Wolffe smirks at how timid you’re being with him now when, not a second ago, you were pleading for him to come down your throat and mark you as his own. 

“Okay? Kriffing hells sweetheart, you’ve ruined everyone else for me. It was already difficult to not think about you every minute of every day ner jetii’ika.” He admits shamelessly and kisses your forehead when he sees you growing more bashful at his compliments. You sigh in defeat as he continues to touch his lips to your furrowed eyebrows, unable to hold back from smiling as you finally relax your worried features and accept his sweet words. 

“And now,” Wolffe nudges your nose with his own, waiting until your eyes flutter open once more before whispering to you truths he never thought he’d get to reveal to you, “now my heart won’t beat without the whisper of your name on my lips.” He leans down and takes your mouth against his lips, swallowing your surprised shrieks and growling dangerously as your hands slither across his muscles and dig into him possessively. 

“Wolffe,” you moan his name as he breaks the kiss, and reach for him with more desperation once you feel him moving away. 

“Come here mesh’la,” Wolffe orders, not giving you a chance to say anything as grabs your waist and pulls you up. You yelp in surprise when you find yourself suddenly laying beneath his firm body. He nips at your neck, only to swear in frustration when he tries to pull down your shirt and fails. 

“You’re a little overdressed General.” He comments as he fingers the leather straps hugging your shirt tightly, and you giggle at his sudden lack of patience when he begins to pull the straps out of the buckle. He stops, however, when you finally respond to him with an excited smile. 

“W-what’re you going to do about it?” You try your best to sound confident, but the words come off a little unsure, and you hope that Wolffe doesn’t misunderstand your nervousness for hesitation. When he raises an amused eyebrow at you and bites into his lower lip, you know that he can see right through whatever act you’re attempting to pull off. For a moment, you’re distracted by the sudden spike of bright colors in his Force signature, and your chest rises and falls rapidly when he maintains eye contact with you as he descends on your heaving form.  

“Teasing little vixen,” Wolffe mouths at your clothed chest, and you throw your head back in pleasure when his lips close around your hardened nipple and tug on it. He’s toying with you, making you lose your mind until you have no choice but to tell him what you want from him. A part of you thinks that perhaps he sees you as someone who takes pride in never losing their reserve, and you’re suddenly filled with a need unlike anything you’ve ever felt before. You want him to know that you’d be willing to do whatever he asks, no matter how humiliating it may be. 

“Please…t-take this off. I want to feel your skin against mine Wolffe. Let me- let me touch you everywhere.” You slip your hands in between the two of you to pull at your clothes, huffing in frustration when Wolffe doesn’t move an inch and remains as flush to you as possible. He lets go against his will, and eyes you with a dangerous hunger you’ve never seen before. 

“Fuck sweetheart, as much as I love hearing your commanding voice ordering me around on the battlefield, I prefer the way you are now,” he doesn’t give you a chance to remove any of your clothes, twisting the leather violently off of you and throwing it behind him before he makes work of your shirt. 

“Breathless,” you shiver when you see something flash behind his eyes right before he rips your shirt down the center and pulls the straps of your bra down your arms even more aggressively. You’re sure his fingers will leave marks across your skin, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, not when he was looking at you like he was fighting every urge in his body to not eat you whole. 

“Wanton,” you try to help him with your pants but Wolffe halts your movement with a single look, and when he’s sure you won’t move your arms again, he unbuttons your pants and pulls them down legs, seething with need when he realizes he has to remove himself from you to take everything off. You writhe and pant beneath him as he tugs your bra down your body as well, the sound of ripping fabric setting a fire deep within your chest, knowing that you were one step closer to giving into what both of you craved for so long. You’re left with nothing but your panties, and although you want to cover yourself, you decide against it, knowing that Wolffe may drag this out longer if he saw you shy away from him. 

“And so kriffing sexy,” Wolffe shakes his head in disbelief as he takes in your nude form. Never in his life did he think he’d ever get to see you like this. He can’t remember how many times he’s dreamt of this moment, but now that he was here, hard as beskar in between your thighs, with your body on full display for him, he knows that he was never going to do you justice. 

You were perfect. 

“Oh cyar’ika, look at you. You’re mesmerizing.” He wants to say so much, kiss every inch of your innocent skin and relish in the fact that he’s the first, and most definitely the last, to touch you so intimately. But words fail him as he rakes his eyes down your form and sees the history of your years, of the harsh training and unforgivable battles you went through for the sake of the Republic. None deserved your dedication and kindness, and yet, the evidence etched in your muscles told him that it didn’t matter to you whether they deserved you or not. As long as you knew your value, nothing else mattered. 

His gaze meets your own a moment later, and he notices the way you grow uncomfortable beneath his focus. You turn away from him and offer your attention to the windows, covering your mouth with your arms to try and avoid the stern, earnest way he continues to study you. 

Kriff, you must have heard his thoughts. 

“Don’t get all shy on me now. ‘sides, I’m only speaking the truth ner kar’ta. You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.” His words send a shiver across your body, and you dare to shift your gaze back to him. When you find him staring at your exposed skin like you’re the finest of delicacies, you sigh in frustration and reach for him, wanting him to get closer to you so you wouldn’t be at the end of his scrutinizing stare. He follows without hesitation, pushing your thighs wider so he can get comfortable. You throw your arms across his back and bring him as close to you as possible, lips seeking his own in a heated kiss that melts every coherent thought in your mind. 

The weight of his body washes over you like a wave of comfort, and you shake your head when he tries to put some of his weight on his arms. You force his chest against your own and break the kiss, nuzzling into his neck when you feel his sweaty and muscular skin slide against your own. He swears beneath his breath at the sheer desperation running through you, hands roaming up and down your waist and thighs to show you how much he wants you in return. The harder he drags his nails across your heated skin, the brighter his Force signature becomes and you don’t realize just how powerful it is until he pushes your head to the side and bites into your shoulder. 

“No star compares to your beauty…not one flower in this universe will ever bloom as sweetly as you,” he whispers in between kisses and you arch your back against him when his fingers slip underneath the fabric of your panties and bunches it together. You let go of him and reach for the bed sheets, pulling harshly on them in hopes of feeling somewhat grounded. Wolffe sits up and eyes your shaking form hungrily, biting into his lower lip when he sees how hard your nipples have become. He pounces on you with his entire body, mouth nipping and licking at one hardened peak while his fingers pull and pinch the other. You’re crying his name like a mantra, silently begging him to keep taking whatever he wants from you. 

Wolffe is sure he’s never heard a more beautiful sound in his entire life.

His teeth are rough, but he’s careful not to hurt you as he nips and sucks on your breasts. His other hand is just as brutal, squeezing and rubbing your nipple until it was almost painful. You weren’t sure if you wanted him to slow down or handle you harder, but as he licked the reddened skin and soothed it with his tongue, you couldn’t help but ask him for more, knowing that the harsh, burning sensations were what put your mind at ease. 

“Not even the Force will ever compare to you.” The compliment makes you gasp, and you instantly comb your hands into Wolffe’s soft hair to get his attention. What he said isn’t necessarily blasphemous, but your heart skips a beat once the meaning behind such a confession settles in. To know that his adoration for you ran so deep that he couldn’t care less about offending the Force filled you with an unbearable need, a need that only he could fulfill. 

“Don’t- oh maker, you can’t say things like that Wolffe.” You know you don’t sound believable one bit, and Wolffe must see through your hazy reply because he shakes his head and sucks harder on your breast to get you to believe him. 

“I don’t care ner runi, I’ll scream it to the galaxy if I have to.” He growls against you before pulling away, roughly cupping your breasts in his hands and clenching his jaw tightly when he sees how perfectly they fit in his palms. He’s mesmerized by how responsive you are to his touches, and he leans down one last time to kiss the center of your stomach before he slowly makes his way down. 

“Please Wolffe,” you’re practically sobbing at this point, and Wolffe hates how powerful he feels at having you give in so easily. He can get drunk just from hearing you whisper his name so sinfully, and he goes even slower to try and have you moan for him again. You pull on his hair a bit, hoping that he could see how much you need him, how much you wanted to feel him deep inside you. But he wasn’t a commander by accident, and he chuckles deeply at your failed attempts, letting you know that he was still, very much, in charge. 

“Your lips tasted so sweet, like honey and jorgan fruit,” he waits until you look down at him before he shoves his nose into the wet patch of your panties, not once breaking eye contact with you as he takes in your scent and hums in approval. You try to close your thighs to push him away from you but Wolffe lets go of your breasts and pushes down on your inner thighs until you’re on full display for him. He can see that this might be too much for you, and he wills himself to slow down long enough to ask you an important question, one that he knew was necessary if this were to go on any further. 

“But maker, the scent of your pretty little cunt is- it’s maddening sen’ika. Like the ripest of flowers on Felucia.” His smirk can rival a predator, and you bite your finger to prevent yourself from making any other pathetic noise. He shouldn’t look this soft when he’s nothing but intimidating, but the longer you stare at him, the more you wish he can just devour you and end your misery. Wolffe rests his cheek on one of your thighs and chuckles when you unintentionally jump as soon as he traces his middle and index finger across the center of your panties. You look down and zero in on how large his fingers look, how thick they feel compared to your own. The thought of his expert hands pushing you over the edge sends a zap of pleasure down your spine and you push yourself against him in hopes of getting him to increase his ministrations, perhaps become more firm with you. 

“I- I need to-” You try to form a coherent thought, but Wolffe uses your distraction to his advantage, roughly pushing his fingers against your engorged clit to get a rise out of you. He wants to lean down and bite into your soft skin, make sure his mark is left everywhere on your person so you remember how good he felt. But he reminds himself that there’s no rush to any of this. There was no need for him to make you forget past lovers, there weren’t any, and he didn’t need to ensure that anyone else who would touch you could see his mark, there wouldn’t be any. 

No one would dare, not unless they valued their life. 

You whimper all of a sudden and Wolffe moves his focus from your heated core to your eyes, quickly coming to the realization that you most certainly heard the rather violent and possessive thoughts roaming his mind. And if he didn’t know any better, he’d think that you were getting off on him being your first…and last.

“That’s it baby, tell me what you want. Tell me what you crave and I’ll give it to you. I’d give you my heart if you asked, love. I’ll give you anything, just tell me what you need.” Wolffe turns his head and kisses down your thigh, breathing promises against the edge of your panties as he continues to tease you with his fingers. He can feel you growing wetter with each word that falls from his lips, and he shuts his eyes for a second to get a grip on himself before he looks at you again. Like earlier, he prays that if you can read his mind, then you would focus more on the part of him that’s willing to slow down and not the deepest desires in his heart begging to be let out to bring you to your knees. He wants you to know that he would never hurt you, that he’d take care of you until his dying breath, because he isn’t sure what he’d do if you told him that his need for you is beginning to scare you. 

“Your mouth…fingers, fuck- anything Wolffe just…just touch me. Please!” You try to move lower to feel his whole palm against your clothed pussy but Wolffe shakes his head and removes his hands from you, pushing down on your navel so you stay put and not drive him insane any further. You eye his hands and whimper at the prospect of being at his mercy. There was no doubt in either of your minds that you were the stronger one, but something about the way he pushed you down and asserted himself against you makes you clench your walls in anticipation. 

“I can almost taste you on my tongue, but-” You mistake the rest of the sentiment for doubt, and quickly reach down for him, intertwining your fingers with his own as you plead for him to take you. You’ve spent countless rotations thinking about what it would feel like to be pressed beneath his body as he rocked against you and filled you with his cock, and the mere thought of him kissing you was enough to excite you throughout the entire night. Deep down, you know that you can never force him to do anything. If he was having second thoughts, there was nothing you can do except push down your own needs for his comfort. Still, you beg him one last time, hoping that he can have mercy on you and at least remain with you for the night. 

“No, please. I’m- wasn’t I a good girl for you? Don’t stop, please I-” Words fail you as you stare into his eyes and will him to see how desperate you are for him. When he smiles and shushes you softly, you feel the nerves bubbling up your throat begin to die down once more, and you bite into your cheek to force yourself to be quiet so you don’t make this worse by accident. 

“Shhh, I’m not going anywhere. Believe me, I want nothing more than to drown in your juices, your sweet, tender scent as you shower me with your cum. But if I start, if I put my mouth on your pussy, I know I won’t be able to stop…won’t be able to get enough of you. So, little one, tell me the word you’ll say if you want me to stop.” The calm tone of his voice puts you at ease, and you blink at him with confusion until you finally understand what he’s asking you. As much as you appreciate him wanting to be safe, and thinking of your comfort before doing whatever he pleased with you, you hated that he was making this more unbearable. 

“Is- is that really…” You try to distract him, dragging his hands up your navel and pushing his warm palms on your breasts. But Wolffe was known for his resilience, and he narrows his eyes at you as he pinches your nipples in warning. You sigh his name and dig your nails into his forearms to get a rise out of him, but he sees through your act and slips his arms from your grasp. In the blink of an eye, he pushes you down beneath his body and takes hold of your wrists, roughly slamming them down above your head to get you to stop touching him so he can focus, for both of your sakes. 

“Necessary? Yes. You’re more powerful than me, Force knows that turns me on more than anything, but I can’t rely on that only. Pick a word sweetheart, and as soon as you whisper it, I’ll stop.” Wolffe cooes in your ear, grasp tightening across your wrists as he nudges your cheek with his nose. He halts in his exploration, nuzzling into the crook of your neck as he takes in the sweaty yet sweet scent of your skin. He groans deeply and parts his lips to suck on the reddened skin, humming to himself when the taste of you seeps through his tongue. You try to slip from his hold, but Wolffe pushes himself impossibly close against your body, silently warning you not to try him. Both of you are aware that you can have him across the room and begging for his life in the blink of an eye, but you keep the charade going, loving the unspoken trust and understanding traveling between your minds and bodies. You’re unsure whether Wolffe can sense how much you want him, but when he chuckles and continues to play with you, you realize that you must have been connected to him more than you thought. 

He smiles as he sinks his teeth into the top of your breast and you arch your back against him in an attempt to feel more of his skin against your own. You sigh in frustration when he rolls his hips against your inner thigh and gives you a taste of what’s to come. You want nothing more than to surrender to him as he fucks you into the next galaxy, but the harder you fight him, the more you realize that he has the patience of a thousand Jedi. With each pass of his tongue across your hypersensitive skin, you can’t help but cherish the teasing he’s putting you through, mostly because you knew that it would lead him to fuck you even harder when he finally let go and used you as you always imagined. A soft growl escapes his beautiful lips when you use every ounce of strength left in your body to push yourself into his hold, and Wolffe sits up instantly, narrowing his eyes at you when he sees the little smirk overtaking your features.

“Be a good girl and tell me your word, sweetheart. I’d hate to bring this night to an end because you’re too much of a fucking brat to listen to me.” Wolffe warns as he lets go of one hand and traces his index and middle finger down your body, halting for a moment at your navel before slipping his palm down to your slit and cupping you harshly. You’re absolutely drenched but he doesn’t bother moving a muscle, knowing that you may not take him seriously if he gave you a sliver of what you clearly craved from him. 

“Won’t you be a good fucking girl for me baby?”

“Y-you’re making it so difficult to choose a word. I- I can’t focus when you…when you’re looking at me like that…when you're touching me so sweetly.” You feign innocence and bite into your lower lip as soon as you feel a spike of heat and danger in his Force signature. He schools his expression and for a moment, you think that he’s going to do as he said and pull away. Panic shoots down your spine immediately when Wolffe lets go of your other wrist and sits up. You’re about to beg him to stay when he shoves your thighs even wider and settles on his stomach between them. He slips his arms underneath them, calloused palms grabbing your muscles tightly just as he leans down and kisses the flushed skin inches from where you wanted to feel his tongue. 

“We’ve waited this long, I think we can hold off a bit more.” Wolffe looks at you with nothing but hunger and lust storming in his eyes, and you wonder briefly how he manages to keep you still with such a gaze, especially with his unnaturally gray orb that holds little to no emotion. Then again, it must have been how dominating he was without even trying. You gulp nervously when he shoves his nose into the meat of your thigh and takes a long whiff of your sweaty and salty skin. You’re practically vibrating with need, but he pays you no mind as he continues to explore your body, hands keeping you motionless beneath him to remind you that he was very much in charge. You can’t think straight and you blame the demanding Force signature slowly taking over you the more you submit to him. 

It’s not until he stops leaving wet kisses across the expanse of your skin that your eyes shine with recognition. You whimper at the sweet yet rough touches, and as Wolffe looks up from in between your thighs and holds your gaze, you can’t help but gasp at the predatory demeanor he was exuding. You part your lips to try and verbalize the word that suddenly came into your mind, but you can’t find your voice, incapable of forming so much as a coherent thought. 

“Hmm, I know that look. Tell me your safe word.” Wolffe teases as he nudges your knee with his nose and sticks his tongue out to lick the shivering muscles. You grab for the bed sheets and tug on them in an attempt to ground yourself before you completely lose your mind. Wolffe doubles down on you, moving closer to your heated core and leaning down when you don’t answer him right away. 

“It’s- uhh…” You forget whatever you’re about to say when you feel his lips leave the softest of kisses at the top of your mound. He chuckles and pulls away as soon as you buck your hips against him to feel his mouth on you again. Shaking his head in amusement, Wolffe decides to stop his torturing and rest his cheek against your hip, and if you had half a functioning brain cell, you would see how difficult it was for him to keep himself in check and not descend on your cunt like a starved man. 

“Go on, I won’t judge you sarad’ika. If it’s easy to remember, then it’s perfect.” Wolffe can smell your arousal, and he wets his lips to take in your scent, hoping that his tongue can catch anything from you to satiate his terrifying need for you. He soothes your legs, massaging them back and forth until he feels you melt at his touch. A part of him knows he’s being cruel, that you deserve some respite before he really takes you apart, but the bit of him that longed to keep this game going is beyond pleased with how easily you surrender to him, how little he has to do to make you fall at his knees. 

He’s close to warning you again when you break the silence of the room and whisper a word he never thought he’d hear fall from your lips, let alone come to mind as you begged him to take whatever he wants from you.  

“Riduur.”

The air is thick with unspoken feelings, and neither of you dare to admit the heavy implications behind such a simple word. 

Wolffe can tell that it took every ounce of bravery in your soul to admit this to him, and he hates that you look almost fearful of his reaction, as if he would ever deny you anything. He stops his teasing altogether, and smiles at you, knowing that anything he says might break the rhythm you’ve set and cause you to pull away from him. Leaning down, Wolffe kisses your thigh one more time before moving down the cot to get more comfortable between your legs. 

You’re not sure what to make of the soft gesture and calm expression meeting you, and you sigh in relief once you shut your eyes and relish in the Force signature blanketing you with comfort and serenity. As they flutter open once more, you look down and furrow your eyebrows when you notice that his smile only widened from a second ago. Afraid he’ll comment on your choice and embarrass you, you turn to the side and whine at him, praying to the maker that he doesn’t mock you. 

“You said you wouldn’t tease me about it.”

“I won’t cyare, we’ll talk about this later.” If Wolffe can tell that you’re beyond embarrassed of what you just said to him, he ignores it and shakes his head frantically to let you know that he wasn’t trying to tease you about such a confession. 

“But for now, I need to taste you.” No other warning is offered to you as Wolffe descends down on your wet cunt and lays his tongue flat against your slit. As soon as he parts your folds and shoves his tongue into your pussy, Wolffe feels as if all the stars in the universe burned on his lips, their ashes seeping through his skin and making him yearn for more. 

More of you. 

He knows he should try and control himself, not get carried out now that you were at his mercy and trusting him with the most precious part of you. But as your slick drenches him, Wolffe gets greedy and pulls you closer, growling into you as he expertly licks against your engorged clit and tastes you on his tongue. Wolffe thinks you’re growing hotter and wetter at his ministrations, but he finds that he doesn’t really care, not when you were groaning and screaming his name in ecstasy as you let him drown in your juices. He opens his eyes and raises his focus to your features, his heart threatening to leap out of his chest when he finds you too far gone to meet his gaze. 

Wolffe is sure he has not seen a more beautiful marvel than the sight of you coming undone at his touch, and he hopes that he is able to commit your pleasure to memory when he finally fills you with his cock and claims you. The thought of being a mere moment closer to fulfilling both of your desires sends him into a spiral and he sucks harder until you arch your back and let out a silent scream. 

An instant zap of lightning courses down your spine and forces you to push yourself into his mouth until the pain becomes pleasure. He growls and adjusts his hold on you, pressing one palm over your stomach to keep you from writhing beneath him while the other hand reaches up and toys with your sensitive nipple. You moan his name shamelessly and reach down to comb your hands into his hair, hoping that he could see how desperate you are to feel him pleasure you. 

As soon as you tug on his dark locks, Wolffe sucks harshly on your clit one last time to savor the taste of you before reluctantly dragging himself away from your cunt. He licks his lips and hums when he tastes more of your juices on his tongue. He watches you closely, relishing in how breathless you are when he barely just started. You try to reach for him again but Wolffe doesn’t bother for any more warnings, waiting until your fingers caress his cheek before he tilts his head to the side and bites your wrist. You whimper as the sting his teeth leave behind when he lets go and kisses the reddened skin, licking your palm to silence you into submission. 

“I’ve thought of nothing else since I met you.” Wolffe confesses, lifting his body off of you as he makes his way up your body and leaves a trail of wet kisses over every inch of you. He takes his sweet time, alternating between soft nips and harsh bites to any place he desires until he feels you growing restless once more. He can tell that it’s taking a great deal of patience and control on your part to remain as he wants you, to not reach out for him again out of fear of causing him to slow down even more. He’s more pent up than ever, and he can feel your muscles buzzing with energy as they prepared to take the onslaught that was his desperation. When you throw your head back and whimper his name to snap him out of whatever haze he fell under, Wolffe chuckles and zeroes in on the dip of your hips, slipping one hand beneath your body and lifting you off of the cot high enough so he can reach the untouched skin he wished to leave his mark on. As soon as he bites down on your body, you twist and turn beneath him, fisting your hands into the sheets around you to prevent yourself from sinking your nails into his arms. 

Even as you shut your eyes, his Force signature threatens to push you into a sensory overload, but you remain steadfast and focus on the warmer side of the aura, afraid that your distraction grows and deters you from giving the two of you what you have been praying for since many rotations. As much as you relished the intense yet calm, flickering signature that Wolffe emitted whenever you were in battle, you preferred him as he was now.

Inflamed. Unhinged. Dominant. 

“I’d lie awake every night wishing I was in between your thighs, kissing you,” it was almost threatening the way he unveiled his desires to you, as if he was promising you that he was going to take you apart piece by piece, and look forward to every second of it, “scenting you,” Wolffe nudges the side of your breast with his nose, not caring for how filthy the action is as he takes in a deep breath and hums in approval, the scent of you pushing him into the most pleasurable mandess, “marking you,” he takes a nipple in between his teeth and rolls his tongue around it roughly while tugging it far enough for him to take a good look at what he’s doing to you, eyes piercing your own until you prayed for him to touch you were you most wanted him, “hmm, fucking you till you screamed my name.” he breathes those last words against the goosebumps erupting across your skin, and it’s in that moment that you realize Wolffe was never trying to toy with you, or even sweet talking  you until you were soaking wet. No. 

He was voicing every fantasy that has overtaken his mind and making it known to the air so he was sure this was real, that he was here, with you, caressing your body, which he now understood, belonged to him. 

“Wolffe, I need you.” You plead again, and allow your own Force signature to flutter near his own in hopes of letting him feel how desperate you were for any part of him. When he shivers and sucks harshly on your nipple while pinching the other a little more violently than before, you know that he recognizes what it is you’re doing to him. You expect him to warn you again, perhaps remove himself from you until you obey his command before returning his touches. But Wolffe does neither of those things, and instead kisses the bruises beginning to form across your skin until the reddened marks aren’t as terrifying as before. You wait for him, allow him to do whatever he wishes, knowing that he needs to feed his desires before delving into your own. 

“What do you need mesh’la? My fingers…or my mouth?” The gruff tone of his voice is unnerving, and you clench your thighs tightly as more slick drenches your sheets and makes known your unbearable need for the man cornering you against your bed. You want to respond to him, but like before, Wolffe doesn’t give you any respite, and continues to map every dip and every scar across your body with his lips, all the while looking directly into your eyes and daring you to look elsewhere. You muster up as much energy and focus as your mind allows you to and push into his mind the dreams that have plagued you ever since you met him. Wolffe hisses, and you’re not sure if he does so out of pain or pleasure, but you feel the effect you have on him when he grasp your legs tightly and squeezes your muscles until you were sure an imprint of his fingers would appear the following morning. You don’t once look away from him as you push more memories of your desires into his mind’s eye, sobbing his name sweetly as images of the two of you, in the most unholy and compromising positions make themselves known to him. 

Wolffe shouldn’t be surprised, his own thoughts reflected the scenes unfolding in his mind, but he still finds it slightly shocking that you conjured up such indescribable dreams without the familiarity of another’s body. 

“Kriffing hells, you- you wanted me this badly, cyare?” When you don’t respond, Wolffe slips one hand across your sternum until it rests around your throat, and he pushes you down into your damp sheets as he trails his other hand down your body and cups your sex. You twitch and whimper beneath him, but Wolffe doesn’t pay you any mind as he repeats his question again. 

“Fucking tell me, what do you want?”

“Either…b-both. Just touch me, show me how much you want me. I d-don’t care what you do to me Wolffe, I just want you. Make me forget everything…make me forget the war, Commander.” It was one thing to hear you moan like a wild animal in heat, but something about the way you breathed those last two requests shakes Wolffe to his core. He is not completely sure whether you know what you just asked him, and he gets the sense that such words could have only made themselves known if you were truly so desperate to have him, needy enough to give him complete control over you, not for your own satisfaction only, but for his as well. 

“With pleasure sweetheart,” Wolffe gazes into your tear-filled orbs as he finally, finally, gives into you. His eyes don’t waver once as he rubs your clit softly to get his fingers wet. It’s hot and hard beneath his touch, and Wolffe wants nothing more than to look down at your cunt and commit to memory the sight of your engorged clit as it trembled at his touch, but he knows he would regret not keeping his attention on your features as they changed with every little caress he offered you. 

“Ohh…oh gods-” You arch your back at an uncomfortable angle, and Wolffe tightens the hold he has on your neck when you cover your mouth with your hands to keep quiet. A part of him understands why you must refrain from making too much noise. It wouldn’t do either of you any good if someone was alerted to your activities and interrupted you. But he finds that he doesn’t really care if you were found in such a compromising position. In fact, Wolffe straightens his back and feels his chest expand with pride when he realizes that he, very much, wishes to make you scream his name until the whole of Coruscant knew who was coaxing pleasure from your untouched, unclaimed body. 

“None of that, I want to hear you beg for me. Beg for me to give you what you want…what this pretty cunt needs.” Wolffe leans down and growls at you until your eyes flutter open. He sees your eyes get lost to the pleasure he was literally forcing out of you, and when he sees the gears shifting in your mind at his command, he bites his lower lip and smirks at you as parts the lips of your pussy and sinks his middle finger as deep inside you as he can without hurting you. 

He gauges your reaction, wanting to ensure that you were neither uncomfortable nor in pain at the familiarity with which he was touching you. He doesn’t move a muscle, afraid that you aren’t wet enough for his thick finger. He looks into your eyes and watches as they glaze over with some unknown spirit, and before he can ask you if he was hurting you, you sigh his name like the two of you have been doing this for eons, hands moving from your mouth to his forearm and grabbing them to have some semblance of control. Wolffe swears as your nails sink into his skin, and the thought that he would walk around the following day with the mark of your fingers on his arms makes his cock twitch to life. He wonders briefly if you would be willing to mark him with your teeth and your fingers as he did to you, but the curiosity evaporates when you manage to form a coherent thought and respond to him. 

“Wolffe, please…please touch me. I need you s-so badly. I’ve wanted you for so long, t-touched myself every night pretending it- it was your fingers making me cry till I came…till I was shaking with need for you. Please Wolffe, I- ahhh fuck!” Your cries are ripped from your throat as Wolffe quickly leans over your body and spits on his hand and your cunt. You groan at the filthy sound of his actions, and look down just in time to see him shove two fingers past your folds and into your cunt. Your heart threatens to leap out of your chest as Wolffe pushes his fingers deep inside you, and just when you think you can’t feel more full, he begins to curl the tips of his digits and rub the deepest, hottest part of you. You can’t find your voice, and the thought that Wolffe was staking claim on every untouched part of you almost sends you over the edge then and there. 

Wolffe barely manages to keep himself together. The sounds of your pleasure ring inside his mind and he finally allows himself to look down to where he’s filling you. The sight that meets him almost makes him lose his rhythm but he remains as he is, thrusting his fingers into your pussy with determination. Your juices flow easily down the palm of his hand and against the bed sheets, and Wolffe finds it remarkable that he hasn’t been touching you so intimately for so long and yet you were so affected by him. He can vaguely hear you calling out for him, but he doesn’t try to listen to your words, not when your cunt wept for him so sweetly and showed him how much you craved him. It’s only when you dig your fingers into his muscles that he snaps his attention back to you again, and as soon as he meets your eyes, he buckles forward from the sheer strength of your Force signature. 

He’s not sure what’s happening, whether you’re pulling him in deeper without realizing, or whether you purposely brought him closer to you to feel his skin as it slid against your own, but Wolffe thanks the maker that he was trained to multitask for so long, because he’s sure he would have been distracted by the heat and desperate veil blanketing him had he been shiny. He continues to move his fingers in and out of you, finding the soft, spongy walls of your pussy as they squeeze him tightly more alluring than he ever dreamt. He groans your name and begs you to come for him when he thinks of what you must feel like wrapped around his cock, and pulling him in deeper into your womb. 

Fuck, he really wanted to sink his cock into your pussy, shove his hard, leaking dick so deep inside you until you can taste his cum in your throat. Wolffe desperately wished he could just take you then and there, but he knew that he would be hurting you if he didn’t prepare you to take him first.  

Do it, please. M-make me scream.

The breathless whispers filling his mind push Wolffe into a frenzy, and he loosens the hold he has on your jugular just as he begins to fuck you with his fingers like a madman. He holds his breath as he pushes his digits into your pussy with an unthinkable force, occasionally shaking his head to rid his mind of the onslaught of images you continue pushing into him through the Force. He’s as hard as beskar, and he hates that it’s mostly due your willingness to use the Force in such an unholy way to show him how much you crave him. Your lips part as you feel a strange sensation growing in the depths of your stomach, and as you’re about to scream Wolffe’s name, he lets go of your throat and clamps his palm hard against your mouth to prevent you from making any more noise. He shushes you sweetly and warns you with a curious eyebrow, and when he’s sure you’ll be mindful of your noises, he lets go and fists his hand into the sheets near your head. He can barely hold his weight off of you, arm shaking from how hard he’s trying to not fall on top of you. But just as quickly, you begin to moan and whimper his name again, making Wolffe shake his head with disapproval as he forces you to part your lips so he can push three fingers into your mouth. You bite down hard on his fingers, but Wolffe doesn’t mind the pain stringing across his hand, not when he could feel you growing closer to orgasm, pleasure that he was pushing you towards. 

Him and no one else. 

“That’s it baby, you’re so close.Your pussy is squeezing the fuck out of my fingers…go on ner jetii’ika, I know you want to cum for me. Please cyare, let me feel you drench me…let me- fuck…let me see you cum for me.” He’s as breathless as you, his eyes lighting with fire the second he looks down and sees your hips attempt to buck against his movement. He can feel how close you are to coming, can feel your walls clenching tightly around him as your cunt threatens him with your slick. Wolffe wishes he can go down on you, but he doesn’t want to drag you away when you’re so close to finally falling apart for him. The need to taste you is slowly beginning to outgrow his desire to pleasure you, and Wolffe growls lowly above you as he picks up the speed and curls his fingers while driving his digits quickly into your pussy. You’re a mess beneath him, and from the way you continue to whisper his name while you show him memories of your dreams without any particular order or coherence, Wolffe would think he was pushing you into a sensory overload, so much so that you weren’t able to keep a proper hold on what you were doing to him anymore. 

“Give me what’s mine sen’ika, your pleasure…your pleas…your sweet cries. Go on mesh’la, mark me with your cum. Claim me for your own.” The urging words wrap around your body like an invisible rope, and you feel tears roll down your cheek as Wolffe doesn’t let up and continues to shove his fingers into your slit with the promise of blinding you with indescribable pleasure. You push your head back as you feel the knot deep in your stomach begin to unravel, and you can do nothing but silently cry for Wolffe as he leans down and licks the river of tears from your sweaty skin. The intimate action reminds you of how much the Commander above you yearns to taste you, and it’s only when he whispers the next few words in your ear that you finally come undone for him. 

“Cum for me General. Now.” There is a spike of something dangerous in his Force signature, and as his hoarse voice floats into your ear, you feel yourself fall to the pleasure his hands are bringing to you, silently whispering his name as you cease to breathe and come on his fingers. 

“W-wolffe…I-” The words die in your throat as you give yourself completely to him, unable to move a single muscle as Wolffe fucks you through your orgasm. You push your cheek into his lips, silently begging him to look upon you as he took what he wanted and brought you pleasure in return. Wolffe somehow senses that you want him to look at you, and he returns his hand around your throat once more, tightly grasping the length of your skin until he can feel you straining to expand your lungs with air. He gazes upon your body as it writhes beneath him, and he bites into his lower lip while he roams his eyes across the expanse of your muscles, chest swelling with pride at the knowledge that he was the one coaxing every bit of pleasure from your innocent soul. If he thought you were beautiful before, he wasn’t sure what word could describe the way you looked in that moment. 

Fuck, you were ethereal. 

“Kriffing hell, if only you could see yourself now General. You look so fucking beautiful when you cum cyar’ika. And the sounds you make…I won’t ever forget them, not in here, and definitely not out there. Come on sweetheart, be a good little jetii’ika and cum for me again.” Wolffe talks you through your pleasure, torn between keeping his eyes on your contorting expression as it turns heated, and your sweet cunt as it squelches the harder he thrusts his digits inside you. You’re unaware of how harsh your touches are becoming against Wolffe’s arms but he doesn’t care that you’re almost drawing blood, knowing that every violent mark you leave on him is more than worth the pain. He huffs in disbelief at the wetness drenching his arms and thighs, but doesn’t bother to stop, wanting you to come around him again and wet him with your sweet juices. 

“Ahhh I- too much…” You finally manage to flutter your eyes open and look at him, gasping with desire when you notice the way he’s gazing down at you. Had you not known Wolffe and trusted him with your life, you would have feared the look you found in his eyes. True to his name, he looked as if he was close to bending you and devouring you until you died from the pleasure coursing through your veins. But unlike the Wolffe you knew, the one who always ensured you were comfortable and well, the man on top of you never slowed down, and he smiled wickedly at you as he stopped for a moment to adjust his fingers and push them deeper into your cunt until his thumb flicked your clit. You twitch out of reflex and try to look down to where he is holding you, but the Commander doesn’t allow you to break contact with his eyes and he grips your jugular in warning until you’re forced to shift your focus on him. 

“Safeword then...” He orders, not wasting another moment before continuing his ministrations. The onslaught of his touches is almost painful, but you surrender yourself to the oversensitivity in hopes of finding that unmeasurable, yearning ecstasy once more and doing as he says. 

“You know what you have to say if you want me to stop baby, but if you don’t say it…then you’ll only be wasting my time.” He breathes against your forehead, kissing you sweetly as he teases your clit with his thumb and rubs it without remorse while curling his digits against your walls until he feels you squeezing him tightly. 

“Wolffe…please.” You plead yet again, praying to the maker that he gives you some respite and has mercy on your used body. But Wolffe wouldn’t be a man of his word if he gave in to your begging words so easily, and he readjusts his entire body until he has one thigh resting between your legs to prevent you from closing them around his hand. He hears you sob at the urgency of his fingering, chuckling at you with a teasing spirit to let you know that he wasn’t planning on stopping unless you spoke your safeword to him. Before he can think twice of what he’s doing, Wolffe lets go of your neck and quickly slithers down your body, violently pushing your thighs apart to make room for himself before descending down on your clit like a hungry wolf. 

“And now I want more. Come on little star, cum on my face.” His stare pierces your eyes instantly, and you try to sit up to look down at him, but he doesn’t let you, laying his arm across your body and pinching your nipple before pushing you down against the sheets. You arch your back as soon as you feel his lips enclose around your clit, screaming his name like a prayer as he sucks harshly while he pushes his fingers in and out of you at an excruciatingly delicious pace. 

You fall apart in an instant, the orgasm Wolffe is pulling from you making your entire body freeze up for a second before you begin to shake violently beneath him. Wolffe doesn’t stop, growling his pleasure into your mound and flicking his tongue across your clit and against your folds until the pleasure became blinding, even to him. He’s not sure if the desperation overshadowing him is his or your own, whether your Force signature is forcing him to become so needy for you or if it was his own wishes of having you come undone at the mere touch of his skin that lead him to such dominant dreams. 

“Not- not enough…give me one more sarad’ika.” He commands in between nips and kisses, moaning your name with every pass of his tongue against your bundle of nerves while his fingers fuck you in the way he always imagined. He swallows your juices, his heart threatening to escape his chest when he feels you drench him with every second that goes by and every slight push that leads him all the deeper into your cunt. 

“I can’t.” You whine, hands shooting for his hair and twisting in the brown locks to try and push him away. Somehow though, your body disobeys your mind, and you end up pulling him closer to your pussy, the feeling of his teeth as they softly graze against your clit making you see stars. His Force signature is unrivaled in its need and aggressiveness, and you make a mental note of asking him later if that desperation you were feeling through the Force would only be reserved for you. 

“You can, and you fucking will if you want my cock.” Wolffe demands as he sucks your engorged little peek into his mouth and closes his lips around it. He can feel you shivering with the slightest of touches, but he finds that he doesn’t really care, not when your walls squeezed around his fingers so perfectly and signaled another orgasm. He pulls away and collects your cum and his spit on his tongue before spitting loudly on your folds, allowing his drool to connect his lips and your slit for a few seconds before he licks his lower lip and sits up again. The sight of him shamelessly caressing your body like he’s done this a million times makes you dig your nails into his scalp a little harsher than you wished. He moans your name as you pull him up and part your lips to kiss him. 

“Commander, please I-” You try to beg him to slow down, but Wolffe shuts you up instantly, swallowing your pleads and your groans in a heated kiss that makes you forget the galaxy. You submit yourself to him within a heartbeat, allowing him to take control of the kiss and mark your bruised lips with his teeth. He shoves his tongue inside your mouth when he sees how obedient you’ve become for him, silently letting you know that you were being a good girl for him. He waits until the hold you have on his hair loosens before he breaks the kiss and taps your mouth twice to get your attention. You open your eyes and look right at him, finding the gray pupil of his cybernetic eye oddly softer and more endearing than the dilated black circle completely overshadowing his hazel eye. 

“There we go, you’re already so close.” Wolffe cooes at you, nudging your nose gently with his own and kissing the corner of your mouth just as he begins to fuck you with his fingers without abandon yet again. 

“Ahh oh g-gods!” You tilt your head to the side and bite into your sheets, knowing that you really should try and control your screams a little more. The sudden movement of Wolffe’s hulking form snaps you out of your haze and you watch as he moves in between your thighs one last time to kiss your clit. The soft yet filthy action sends you over the edge once more, and you clamp your hands over your mouth as you come on Wolffe’s fingers and mouth, drenching him with your sweet cum until there wasn’t another ounce of ecstasy left in your body. 

“Feed me mesh’la.” Wolffe mumbles as he licks at your folds violently, lips enclosing over your clit one last time to tease your oversensitive heat before he opens his mouth and swallows your essence. It’s the hardest you’ve come so far, and Wolffe smirks as he rings all the pleasure from your restless form until your muscles grow tired and cease to shake at his touches. He doesn’t remove his fingers just yet, not wanting to part from the heat of your pussy as aftershocks of your orgasm force him deeper inside you. You’re sobbing his name in between pleas, and if Wolffe was a better man, he would have apologized instantly for pushing your limits and turning the pleasure into pain. 

But he wasn’t a better man, far from it. He was a man that spent hours on end picturing you falling apart for him and asking him to take whatever he wished from you. He moves slowly, not wanting to scare you or make you push him away out of reflex. He keeps his hands as still as possible inside you, and when he’s sure that you won’t flinch, he slowly takes his fingers out and drags his hand across your sweaty skin. Your expression is much more calmer than a moment ago, but your chest is still heaving with overexertion, and before Wolffe knows what’s happening, you’re reaching for his shoulders and pulling him towards you until you’re completely hidden beneath his firm body. 

“You’re okay. Shhh, you’re okay sweetheart. I’m right here…not going anywhere. You did so good for me, so good for your Commander. Such a perfect fucking girl, letting me use you like this, letting me take what I want from you.” Wolffe kisses the top of your head, whispering sweet words into your ears as he leaves a trail of kisses across your damp skin. You’re not shivering anymore, and he isn’t sure why you keep hiding in the crook of his neck every time he pulls away to take a better look at you. It’s only when he repositions himself and feels how wet you are as he slides his cock against your heat that he gets an idea of the sudden embarrassment that washed over you. 

“I- I’m so sorry. I never…” You must notice the moment of realization because you kiss the base of his neck and apologize for making a mess of him. 

“There’s nothing to be sorry for, little one. You did exactly what I wanted, what I dreamt of seeing every night for so many rotations. And the taste of you…karking hell woman, I barely fucked you with my tongue and I’m already addicted.” He slides one arm behind your back until he has a good hold on the tips of your hair. Tugging on them, Wolffe winks down at you as he reveals your flushed features to his gaze, and when he’s sure you’re looking into his eyes, he leans down and gives you a quick peck on your lips before pulling away and roaming his hands across your nude form. Your muscles flex on instinct, turning him on more than they should as they ripple in recognition of his touch. 

“Wolffe…”

“I mean it. You plague every moment of my waking hours…and- you, kriff baby, thoughts of you consume me every night.”

The depth of his exclamation hits you harder than you thought it would, mostly because of how heartfelt and abrupt it is. It wasn’t as if you didn’t think Wolffe was capable of being romantic in the throes of passion, far from it. It was merely the fact that such confessions came so easily for him, a man whom you thought didn’t particularly enjoy opening up to others, even his own vod. You barely manage to hold back the tears threatening to escape down your cheeks, and instead of telling him that you share a similar predicament each night you go to bed, the sheer amount of want you have for him preventing you from falling asleep easily, your spiraling thoughts take over and make themselves known in the form of frantic sentiments. 

“Oh Wolffe, you have no idea how long I’ve waited to hear you say those words. I thought that- I came to terms with spending the rest of my days only stealing glimpses of you…thought I’d never feel the touch of your skin except in my dreams or- Force help me, thought I wouldn’t feel the heat of your kisses on my body.” You’re torn between wanting him to put your mind at ease and distract you with his mouth some more, and wishing he could wrap his arms around you and let you confess all of your worries to him so you wouldn’t think of them anymore as you laid alone in your bed after tonight. 

“Sweet thing, you could have had me any second you wanted. One word from you and I would have worshiped the ground you walk on.” Wolffe remarks, his voice soothing your heart until it didn’t ring so loudly in your ears. He nips at the bruised skin of your neck, licking across your sternum and purposely kissing you loudly so you can focus more on the sounds of his dedication to you and less on those busy thoughts inside your mind. 

“I- I didn’t want you to think that I was pulling rank, couldn’t live with the thought of you believing I would ever force myself on you. I couldn’t be the one to have started this, no matter how much I wanted to come to your bed every night and plead for you to claim me.” You reach down and cup Wolffe’s cheeks, urging him to look up at you so he can know why you weren’t the one who initiated this. The way he gazes at you makes your heart skip a beat. It’s as if he’s staring right into your soul, and you slowly bring him up again until his lips pass over yours in a chaste kiss. It’s unhurried and gentle, allowing you to savor the taste of him and the faint flavor of your cum on his tongue as he swirls it around yours. But before you lose yourself in the moment, Wolffe breaks the kiss and responds to your worried string of thoughts. 

“You wanted me to come to you? Well, here I am mesh’la. I’ll get on my knees and beg for you if you want me to, just don’t make me part from you again. I- I can’t bear the thought of not being beside you. I have to be with you, please. Don’t leave me again.” It’s his turn to bear his heart out for you, and you notice the shift in his demeanor as soon as he gulps nervously before letting all of his mental walls down for you. The rush of emotions washing over you with his Force signature is almost too much, but you take in a deep breath and allow him to show you whatever he desires. You see images of many memories, moments where he studied you as you fought and defended his vod, moments where you sat beside him in silence following a particularly rough battle, moments where he felt his heart almost give out from how deeply he realized he cared for you. He lets you in and doesn’t hold anything back, eyes piercing your own silently in hopes of having you understand what he meant by his words. 

Oh maker, he- he truly wanted to be with you. Always. He was willing to part with his battalion, his General…his brothers. 

He was willing to leave all of them for your sake. 

“I’d- I’d never ask that from you Wolffe. I would never take you from your vod, from Master Koon. I know how much you care for him and for your men. I couldn’t-” You shake your head in panic, not wanting him to think that you could ever push him into putting your presence above those whom he’s known his entire life, more than he’s known you. You can feel how truthful he is, how willing he is to remain by your side and not leave you for another day. The thought of Wolffe relying on you so deeply makes your heart clench tightly, the pain and relief of being the one who makes him surrender his soul so easily causing you to push back against him. He grunts at the sudden presence of your own wishes as they unravel and braid amongst his own, and if Wolffe didn’t know better, he would think you were trying to distract him from what he just asked you. 

“Then stay with me love, stay with the 104th.” He lets go of your waist and takes both of your hands into his own, pushing them against the sheets and forcing you into submission once more. You widen your eyes at the spike of neediness overtaking his bright aura, and before you can attempt to ask him to discuss this later, Wolffe widens his legs and forces your thighs wider until they frame his hips perfectly. 

“Wolffe, I- ahhh!” He slides his hard, leaking cock against your wet fold, the warmth of his length catching you off guard and forcing a loud moan from your throat. You forget whatever you’re about to say to him as soon as he bucks his hips against you and nestles his dick perfectly against your slit. The tip of his cock nudges against your clit with every small thrust he delivers, and you’re reminded that his length is much larger and much thicker than his hands. 

Oh maker in heavens, he was going to fill you to the brim. 

“You feel that cyare, this is what you do to me. This is how needy you make me. I- the thought of not being near you burns me with a desperate fire that…karking hell, that only you can tame. Please General, be with me. Let me be by your side, let me…let me protect you from this war. Let me…let me love you the way I’ve always loved you.” 

“W-Wolffe…” The way he breathes those last three words lights a flicker of hope in your chest, and you commit the moment to memory, knowing that it would be the only memory to save you from heartache when the time came.  

Force, he loved you. After all this time, wondering whether what he felt for you was anything more than physical attraction, he finally confessed those words to you. The hopelessness you felt through every meeting, and every battle, and every dinner suddenly didn’t compare to the complete and utter joy blanketing you…the two of you. 

“Fucking hell, you’re drenched and I haven’t even given you my cock yet. Tell me sweet girl, tell me you’ll stay with me and I’ll give you my fucking soul.” Wolffe mouths at the corner of your lips, dragging his hand down your body and taking hold of his cock before rubbing the hard tip in between your folds. The sound of your wet cunt should embarrass you but you moan with need as you feel him inch it ever so slowly into your hole. 

“I- I’m…” Wolffe slips out of you before he can dip his cock into deeper into your heat, and you feel your walls clench around nothing in anticipation of what’s to come. You were so ready to have him fill you, but then he teases you again with the head of his cock and you pout at him, whining at almost having him the way you’ve dreamt of for so many nights. 

“That’s it, use your words and promise me you’ll never leave my sight. I swear to you, my heart beats only for you sen’ika…every breath I take will- oh gods, it will be to protect you. Won’t let anything happen to you, oh fuck…I can’t take it anymore, I must have you.” His voice is almost unrecognizable, the aggressive tone shooting straight to your cunt and making you gush down your thighs as Wolffe continues to frame his cock with your wet folds. He looks down for a moment, groaning deeply when he sees how perfectly nestled his cock looks as he keeps teasing your slit. His actions are a paradox to his words in a way; whereas his confessions settle beneath your skin and flicker your spirit to life, his fingers and cock snap your attention back to him, reminding you that he was within your grasp, that he could give you whatever you wanted from him. 

“Then fuck me already Wolffe, please!” You attempt his demands with one of your own, but Wolffe puts an end to your tone instantly, slapping his dick hard against your clit until you whimpered his name and silently apologized for the way you behaved. 

You just needed to give him what he wanted first. 

“Promise me you’ll stay with me and I will. I won’t fill your cunt with my cock till you swear to me those words. Fucking tell me you won’t leave me and I’ll fuck you like the cockdumb whore I know you are. I’ll fuck you so hard baby you won’t remember anything but my name…just tell me you’ll be with me.” Wolffe demands as he tightens his grasp around your wrist, his other hand roaming across your body and pinching your nipples as it ascends to your throat. He chokes you harder than before, waiting until your eyes flutter open and look into his own once more before he leans down and biting your lower lip. He continues to move against you, giving you a taste of his cock in hopes of getting you to surrender your heart to him. 

“I- oh maker, I promise I’ll never leave you again Wolffe…won’t care for anyone else but you.” You claim as assertively as possible, knowing that there was no going back on your word now that you promised him you’d never leave him again. As the promise leaves your mouth, Wolffe pushes his cock into your tight cunt, forcing you to throw your head back in ecstasy and scream for him as he fills you deliciously. 

“Atta girl,” Wolffe grunts as he thrusts his dick deep inside you until he bottoms out, your pussy swallowing him whole and knocking the breath out of him before he can call for you. He almost falls on top of you, barely managing to keep himself from crushing your body as you spread your thighs wider and allow him to push impossibly deeper into your cunt. 

“Ohhhh,” Neither of you move as Wolffe nuzzles into your neck and breathes heavily against you. You throw your arms across his back and grab for him, hoping that he doesn’t mind the marks you’re surely leaving across his muscular back. An answer to your prayer comes instantly as Wolffe bites the space between your shoulder and your neck, reminding you that he enjoyed leaving his mark on you as much as you did on him. It’s only when he lets go and licks across the indents his teeth left that he finally recognizes how quiet and still you’re being. When he raises himself to look at you, he finds you gasping for air, lips wide open and eyebrows furrowed as you force your lungs to expand with air. Wolffe leans down and holds his mouth against your own, his warm breath snapping you out of your momentary haze and allowing you to breathe in more easily. He doesn’t dare budge, not wanting to hurt you anymore than he may have already, and waiting until you told him he could move before he pleasures you again. 

“Breathe…breathe ner kar’ta, you have to- osik …you’re so fucking tight ‘round me. Breathe for me, love.” He struggles to form a coherent thought, his mind racing frantically at finally having you wrapped so deliciously around his aching length. He’s spent so long wishing to touch you intimately, kiss you where no one has before, and where no one would ever again, whisper his devotion to you until you returned his affections. He dreamt of this moment so often that he almost can’t believe he was actually here, his cock stretching your cunt around him and squeezing him so hard from the smallest of kisses. 

“I- you’re so thick and it…Wolffe, I feel so hot.” Your words unintentionally make him thrust inside you, and the two of you moan in unison when you feel his cock twitch and push against your tight walls. A shudder courses through him when you tilt your head to the side and kiss his jaw, and it takes every ounce of self-discipline running through him to refrain from flipping you around and fucking you on your hands and knees. 

“Karking siths, you’re going to be the death of me if you keep…keep moaning those sweet words for me.” Wolffe warns as he tries his best to remain still, but he feels his resolve breaking as soon as he looks down and sees the way you’re gazing at him. 

As if he’s hung the stars in the heavens for you…

“But you are…you feel so thick and hard inside me. I feel like I’m on fire and you…you’re making it hotter, making it burn more.” Your confession sends a clap of lightning down his spine, and Wolffe fists his hands into the sheets to remind himself that this was your first time, that he should put your comfort and pleasure above his own, and not give into his desires. 

“Shit baby, we can stop if-” He begins to say reluctantly, not wanting to part from you but willing to do so if you asked him to stop for now. The way you pull him down against you until his chest touches your nipples lets him know that you are on the same page as him, and Wolffe kisses your cheek to distract you from the pain he was unfortunately causing you. 

“No! Please don’t…please keep going. I want you to fuck me Commander, fuck me like- like you can’t get enough of me.” It’s your turn to order him, and Wolffe has a teasing remark on the tip of his tongue, but like before, you distract him and push your own Force signature against his own, letting him feel how long you’ve craved him, how you couldn’t care if he was hurting you…

How you truly, desperately wanted him to make you forget the pain of this war with his touch. 

He bites his lower lip to restrain himself from sinking his teeth into your skin again, finding a similar need to your own mirrored in his own heart. He’s longed for the soft touches of another for so long, an intimate moment that could replace the violence he’s known his entire life. It didn’t feel right to experience it with just anyone, and it wasn’t long after he met you that he knew he could never share this part of himself with someone other than you. 

“But sweetheart, I won’t ever get enough of you. Won’t ever get enough of your sweet lips, the softness of your fingers…ah kriff, or your wet, tight cunt as you clench around me. It won’t ever be enough.” Wolffe cooes against your mouth, breathing in the air leaving your throat and hoping that you can see the need he has of having you mark every inch of him. 

“Take me Wolffe, make me forget everything.” A single tear espaces your eye, and as you whisper that last request to him, Wolffe rubs the dampness on your skin with his thumb before grabbing the pillow beneath your head for leverage…and to prevent himself from holding you down roughly.  

“Yes sir,” those two words are the only warning you receive before Wolffe pulls his cock out of your cunt and pushes back into you again. The force of his thrust would have sent you into the wall had you not been hugging him tightly, and you scream his name in ecstasy as the familiar pace you knew Wolffe was capable of returns with a vengeance. He growls into your ears as he snaps his hips into you, making you sigh in relief at finally feeling him the way you’ve always wanted to. Wolffe wants to slow down, he knows he should for your sake at least, but the tightness of your walls as they clench around him and swallow him whole with each push of his cock deep into your womb makes him feral. He always imagined what it may feel like to sink his dick into your pussy, but he never thought it would feel this natural, this sublime, this perfect.  

“Oh fuck sweetheart, you’re perfect. So good for me…better than all my dreams.”

You don’t bother trying to focus on anything else but him, clutching onto him tightly as he plunges his throbbing cock into you while continuing to whisper filthy words in your ears. You want to listen to what he’s murmuring to you, but you don’t have the mental capacity to ignore the hard, protruding veins of his dick as they rub against your sensitive walls and push you closer to that familiar, dizzying sensation.

“You’re mine now cyare, mine…fucking mine. No one can touch you but me, no one can- hmmmm, no one can kiss you but me…and I swear on my life, no one else will ever fuck you but me.” Wolffe promises as he trails kisses across any bit of skin that still hasn’t experienced his love yet, and he grazes his teeth over your shoulder when he feels you melt beneath him further with every ravishing sentiment he growls against you.  

“W-Wolffe…” His name is a whimper on your lips, making him pound harder into you to get you to pray it again for him. He raises his head to take a better look at you, smirking to himself when he finds you so lost in pleasure that you don’t notice the deep, slow thrusts of his pulsing cock as he plunged into you. 

“You paying attention sweetheart, or do I need to spit in your mouth again to get you to listen to me?” He asks teasingly, chuckling at you when you finally open your eyes and look at him through dazed pleasure. He expects you to beg him to stop, perhaps tease you less about how easy it was to have you writhing and pleading for him. 

“Please,” you dig your nails into the muscles of his arms and whisper sweetly to him before parting your lips and maintaining contact with his fiery orbs. He stutters for a moment as the dirty nature of your pleas settle in his mind, and without missing a beat, he makes a show of collecting spit on his tongue before pursing his lips and allowing a trail of spit to fall into your mouth. You whine at him only to get the breath knocked out of you when he parts your thighs wider and rams his dick into you again. The light connection of spit touching your lips and his own makes you clench around him and Wolffe forgets what he wants to do, lunging down and shoving his tongue into your mouth to swallow the gasp of his name. 

Something alien takes over Wolffe and he lets go of the pillow instantly, sliding one arm beneath your body to hold onto your neck while the other slithers down and grabs one of your thighs. He nuzzles into your neck again and allows himself to completely let go of his inhibitions, asking you a question he knows the answer to already, but wishing to hear you tell him once more. 

“Tell me little one, who do you belong to?” His voice is strained, and you tug on his hair when the sound of his heaving breaths increases with every push he delivers into your aching cunt. Wolffe hisses your name violently, and the sound captures you intimately and with such familiarity that you can’t help but wonder how often he moaned for you as he fucked his hands. You forget that he’s asked you a question, but Wolffe doesn’t and he lightly slaps your thigh to bring your attention back to him again. 

“You…only you Wolffe.” You murmur as you caress his neck and touch your cheek to his own, the moment somehow overpowering every other one the two of you have experienced with each other thus far. 

“And whose cunt is this?” Wolffe growls in return, grunting against you as he slams his dick into your pussy shamelessly and without mercy. 

“Y-yours,” you respond instantly, refusing to let him doubt your affections for him. 

“That’s right mesh’la, this is my perfect, tight pussy. Remember that baby, remember how full you feel right now…s-so you don’t cum unless you’re filled to the brim with my cock.” His words send a rush of heat across your skin, and you shudder at the thought of being able to have him again, of coming on his cock the next time he comes to bed with you.  

“Yes…oh fuck, yess Wolffe. Right there, keep- keep going.”

“Look at you, already addicted to getting fucked and I haven’t even gotten you on your hands and knees yet.” His chuckle should embarrass you, but you find that you enjoy this cocky side of him, how dominant and assertive he’s become now that he knew you wanted him this way. You want to tell him that you wish he could flip you over and fuck you from behind right this moment, but he drives his dick against your inner walls and pushes you closer to the edge. 

“Please…can I c-cum again? Please Commander, make me cum on your cock,” you beg hoarsly, knowing that Wolffe would fuck you harder if you asked his permission before you surrendered to the pleasure. As you thought, Wolffe swears beneath his breath and plunges his cock into you until he’s stroking every innocent inch of your pussy. 

“You sound so sweet when you beg my little jetii’ika…since y-you asked so nicely.” 

“Oh gods-” The words die in your throat as Wolffe slips his hand in between your slick bodies, fingers instantly hovering over your clit and rubbing it furiously until he feels your muscles shake at his touch. 

“Go on love, cum on my dick. Drench my fucking cock little one. Claim me for your own, I want you to.” Wolffe collects your wetness on his fingers and flicks the bundle of nerves with determination, raising himself to look at you just in time to watch you fall apart for him. Your arms fall to the side as you arch your back against him and throw your head into the pillow in ecstasy, coming harshly around his cock and squeezing him so tightly that Wolffe has to hold back from falling over the edge with you then and there.  

“There we go, so nice and wet for me…perfect cockslut for your Commander, aren’t you?” He talks you through your little high, continuing to tease your clit until your pussy clamps around him and makes him retract his actions. As much as he enjoys the wet, tight sensation of your walls as they claimed his dick, Wolffe doesn’t want to come just yet, wanting to make this last as long as possible so he could get to see you come undone for him one last time. 

“I- I can feel every inch of you, every hard vein and ahhh,” you tremble all of a sudden as Wolffe drags his fingers up and down your thighs, leaving a trail of angry, red marks across your skin as he shifts between rough, deep thrusts, to slow, shallow rocking of his hips. 

“Would you look at that? Didn’t think you’d have such a filthy mouth on you, but I shouldn’t be surprised. Your cunt gushes like a bitch in heat when I remind you who you belong to…s-should’ve known you’re a dirty mesh’la.” The teasing remark does it for you, and you sigh in relief as you roam your hands across his arms and back before mirroring his actions and scratching the expanse of his beautiful, bronze skin. 

“Wolffe, I- I can’t anymore. I need you to fuck me…hard. Don’t be gentle, I want to feel you for days. I- I want to see your mark all over my skin…bruise me with your love Wolffe, please.” You know you shouldn’t ask for such violent needs, but you can’t find it in yourself to care for the pain that would surely follow you in the days to come. You decide, then and there, that you very much want to feel traces of his aggressive kisses and hard thrusts in your muscles as you walk around the Temple and go on missions with him. You want to feel him in every step you take, a reminder that he was yours and you were his, that you finally gave into your mutual desires and took each other apart until the Force knew of your love. 

“Oh fuck, is that what you want cyar’ika? You want me to mark you up so everyone knows you’re mine? So you remember who fucked you till you screamed all night long?” Wolffe asks to make sure you are aware of what you’re asking him. He was doing his best to hold back so far, and although he knows he could have focused a little bit more on not hurting you, he still feels like crossing that line with you might make you regret ever giving yourself to him. 

He’s come to accept those violent needs he’s held in his heart, how he’d never give into them for your sake. But your pleas unlock them in a matter of seconds, and before Wolffe can ask you again, you pull on his hair until you meet his eyes, swallowing the lump in your throat as you declare to him words he never imagined hearing from you, certainly not to him of all people. 

“Yes…I- Wolffe, I love you. I’ve loved you for so long and- I…maker, I just want you.”

Wolffe freezes for a second, eyes boring into your own with an intensity unlike anything you’ve experienced with him thus far, and you fear that this was the wrong time to confess to him the depths of your feelings. Before you can apologize to him, Wolffe takes hold of you and flips the two of you around until you’re straddling him. The new position sends his cock deeper inside you, and you shiver as he experimentally thrusts up into your heat and sends you toppling against his chest. 

“Finally!” Wolffe growls before pulling you down by your neck and swallowing you surprised gasps, no longer caring for anything else as he wraps his arms around your back and plants his feet on your cot. You don’t bother trying to fight him for control, allowing your body to melt into him as he returns his rhythm and fucks up into you with a depseration rivaling your own. 

“You look so beautiful like this, falling apart for me. I- I want to sink my teeth in your perfect skin, have you bare my mark underneath all those Jedi robes so you don’t forget me. Sith hells…you’re pulling my cock so deep inside your cunt sweetheart. It’s like your body already knows my touch and wants more.” Wolffe holds you flush against his body, eyes taking in your features as they twist in pleasure with every pass of his cock against your tight walls. He can feel you reaching your orgasm slowly, and he realizes that he won’t be able to hold back any longer, the need to fill you with his seed outgrowing his willingness to keep pushing your limits and fucking you the entire night. 

“I want…no, I need- need to…” He stutters and throws his head back, biting his cheek so he doesn’t accidentally mark your neck with his teeth and have the other question your loyalty. You know what he wants to do, and the thought that there was still some conscious part of him worrying about you makes your chest tighten with more love for him. Knowing he was right, you don’t ask him to do what he wants this time, and instead beg him to tell you what he needs from you so he can come. 

“Need to what? Tell me Wolffe, what do you n-need? I’ll give you anything you want.”

“I- I need to brand your fucking soul baby.”

The vicious desire lacing those sharp words should have terrified you and had you wondering whether your attachment to each other was a mistake. But you completely ignore the warning of the Force, and surrender yourself to him completely, brushing his Force signature with your own in a heated embrace to let him know that he already has it. 

Already has you…

“Oh gods Wolffe, it’s yours. It’s already yours. Everything I am, it’s all yours. My body, m-my heart, my soul…they’re yours.” You pray for him as he continues his assault on your cunt, barely managing to hold back from screaming for more as he plunges his cock so hard into you until you can feel him swelling and throbbing harshly against your tight walls. 

“You mean that ner kar’ta?” The disbelief hidden in the question makes you wonder why he found it so hard to understand your dedication to him. But you remember what the Republic has done to him, what others often say of him and his vod, and your irritation turns into a string of words that you often tried to forget whenever you looked upon his handsome features. 

“They’ve always been yours, till the day I die Wolffe. Do whatever you want with me.”

“Oh fuck, I love you cyare. I love you so much…so much it fucking hurts. Can’t- won’t ever tell you enough how much I fucking love you.” Wolffe’s voice breaks as he tightens his arms around your back and lifts his hips off of the cot at an impossible pace. He can’t feel any of his muscles anymore, but he pounds into your pussy as he chases his release, hoping that you can find your own with him so he could seal your love with a final act of claim. 

“Wolffe, I- I want you to remember that…I’ve loved you always, and…ahhh I always will.” You manage to breathe out right as you fall apart with Wolffe, shaking with need as Wolffe loses his rhythm and pushes his cock a few more times into your cunt until he comes undone with you. A rush of heat spreads across your walls and you shiver with want when you feel Wolffe shove his seed deep in your womb. He’s growling and praying your name as his hands grab your muscles and keep you from moving off of him. You nuzzle into his neck and breathe harshly when he roams his hands down to your ass and squeezes it tightly as he shoots his cum into your pussy and marks you as his own. His hips continue to buck into you for a few moments, and you almost laugh when he feels your cunt flutter around him and forces him to grunt your name in warning. 

Neither of you move for a while, and Wolffe wonders if you would allow him to remain as he was for the duration of the night. He wants to ask if he can keep filling your pussy with his cock, but he fears how you might react if you knew the real reason behind his need to keep his cum in your womb. He knows it isn’t possible to have what he wants with you, but he wants to pretend that it was possible, that he could stake claim on that part of you until it took hold and you held evidence of his love inside you. 

His chest rises and falls more calmly now, and he fears that he may have been too much with you when you remain silent and refuse to so much as move a muscle. As if you read his mind, you push yourself off of him and take in a deep breath as you meet his eyes. You find his eyebrows furrowed with worry, the expression making you smile endearingly at him before you lean down and kiss him until he softens at your touch. 

You feel his Force signature flicker down, still very much intertwined with your own, and even though you don’t wish to part from him just yet, you slowly remove yourself from his lap and fall to the side. The two of you hiss at the sudden loss of each other, but Wolffe doesn’t waste another moment as he brings you into his arms until you rest your head against his chest. He titles his head to the side and kisses your forehead lovingly, smiling down at you when he feels you spread your fingers across his sweaty skin and touch the scars adorning his body. 

“Did- did you mean what you said?” Wolffe breaks the comfortable silence of the room, and you kiss his chest one last time before you sit up on your elbow to take a better look at him. Even though his cybernetic eye can’t truly convey any emotion, you feel your chest tighten at the soft, vulnerable look you find in both of his eyes. The hazel color of his natural orb glistens in the shadows of the remaining candles, and you smile at him reassuringly as you lean over and pass your lips over his own. His mouth seeks you out when you try to break the kiss, and his arm tightens around you back to bring you closer into him. You fall over him, but don’t bother moving away when he does finally let go of you. 

Wolffe turns his gaze down and takes hold of your hand, bringing it to his mouth and laying the gentlest of kisses on your palm before placing it across his chest once more. You wait until he meets your gaze before you touch your lips with his cheek one last time and whisper to him what you’ve known ever since the two of you were introduced. 

“Every word, from all of my heart.”

It takes a great deal of reserve for Wolffe to not drag you underneath him again, and fuck you until you’re nothing but a whimpering mess. You huff out a little giggle at the thoughts coursing through his mind, and Wolffe can’t find it in himself to care about how wanton he’s being. A few hours ago, he would have apologized profusely for allowing his mind to run away with such filthy thoughts, but now that you’ve seen him at his most vulnerable, hushed him with words of encouragement and promises of never leaving his side, he knows that he can never hide from you again. He could give you whatever you wanted, including free reign of his mind, without you asking. 

In the end, he settles for pushing you down into the sheets and covering you with his body, bringing your arm across his back so he could nuzzle into your neck and take in the scent of your sweaty, pleasured skin. His hands roam your body as if they were friends for ages, mapping out every little soft scarred tissue that formed from maker knows what weapon. However, as soon as his fingers slip a little lower and tease your engorged clit, you hiss out in pain and pull away from his touch. Wolffe lets go of you instantly, and sits up, shoving the covers away from your body to see what has caused you such pain. When he finds your body littered with discolored bruises, and your wet folds hot to the touch, he removes himself from near you and looks around in search of anything that can help. 

“Kriff, I didn’t mean to…I’m so sorry love, I didn’t think that-” Wolffe tries to apologize for his rough demeanor, mind racing in panic at the prospect of hurting you so harshly without taking notice. A part of him regrets being so careless with you, and he hates that it’s a little because he may never get to touch you again. He turns his focus back to you, and looks into your eyes, willing you to see that he genuinely didn’t try to hurt you on purpose. He’s about to get out of your cot when you reach for his wrist and stop him from moving another muscle. Waiting until he’s somewhat calmer, you place one hand on his chest while the other takes hold of his cheek. It takes a great deal of effort for you to move, but when you’re finally kneeling chest-to-chest with him, you lean up and kiss his eyebrows, waiting until they’re no longer furrowed before you lay back down on your sheets once more. 

“Don’t ever apologize for showing me how much you want me. I’ll wear these with pride Commander…and I’ll even beg you for more.” You take hold of his hands and trace them down your flushed skin, slowly easing yourself into his mind to show him that you weren’t lying, that you welcomed the needy, loving touches without a doubt. Wolffe watches you closely, studies the way you slide his fingers up and down the bruises on your body. He bites into his lower lip when he sees your nipples harden at the slightest of passes, and as much as he wants to leave his mark on the skin not bearing evidence of his love, he holds back and decides to fall into your arms. 

You throw your head back against the pillows as soon as his lips caress your neck, and it’s only when he nips and sucks at the skin of your throat that you grace him with a sigh of his name. He wraps his arms around your body and rolls the two of you over until you’re laying on top of him, and when you try to move away so you’re not crushing him, Wolffe refuses and grabs at your waist and neck, silently pleading for you to remain where you are. 

“Is that so?” He asks teasingly as he mouths at your clavicle, smiling to himself when you hum in approval and comb your fingers into his hair so you can push him into you. He slips his hand into the hair at the nape of your neck as well, tugging on it until your neck arches. With more access to your flushed skin, Wolffe eyes you hungrily, wanting to sink his teeth into your soft muscles until there was no doubt whom you belonged to. 

You nod against him as soon as you feel what he wants to do with you, and when he lunges for your throat and sucks harshly at the side of your neck, you slowly begin to buck your hips against him, not caring for how your body screamed for you to give it some respite. No, you needed to feel him on every inch of you, now. 

“Then you won’t mind if I leave some more?” He asks in between kisses, the hand splayed across your back slowly descending down your body until it settled against your ass. You shiver at the hot sensation as it travels down your back to your core, and Wolffe must feel what you’re trying to get him to do again because he quickly moves his digits and settles them across your thigh. He holds you there, knowing that you shouldn’t try to exert yourself anymore for the rest of the night. 

He waited this long to have you for himself, he could wait a little longer until you weren’t in pain. Now that he was sure there would be no one else, he needn’t try to stake his claim on you over and over again. 

“Never.”

Wolffe continues to leave a trail of kisses across your skin, occasionally taking your hands into his own and bringing them in between the two of you so he could caress them or peck the tips of your fingers. You don’t bother telling him to stop, mostly because you were enjoying the attention and the effect you had on him. You don’t tear your eyes away from his handsome features, smiling at him every once in a while when he turns and winks at you. You’re not sure how long the two of you remain like this, but when Wolffe is sure that he’s left traces of his lips everywhere, he lets go of you and moves you down his body until your head rests on his chest. He massages your back until you completely melt against him, his eyes shifting to your expression only when your eyes shut. 

He’s not sure what compels him to do such a thing, but the longer he stares at you, the more he feels the need to memorize every detail about you. He draws circles on your head, and when you sigh heavily and smile, he leans down and scents your hair, humming in pleasure when the sweet smell of your locks fills his nostrils. Wolffe pulls away almost immediately, realiznig that you might think him weird if he continued to behave so awkwardly. You take notice of the shift in his aura and shift back until you can take a better look at him. 

As soon as you look up, you find him already staring at you, his hazel eye almost as intense in its scrutiny as his cybernetic one. Although you can normally get a good read on him, you find it more difficult now. His Force signature was soft, but the way he was studying you was a mixture of vigorous passion and serious concern. 

“What?” You ask, giggling at him when his gaze doesn’t waver, but hardens with fire. It takes you raising your eyebrows in curiosity for Wolffe to finally snap out of his haze and respond to you. He must see how nervous he made you feel because he shakes his head and takes hold of your hand to bring it to his lips. You sigh in relief, and pray that he gets better communicating with you, but when he leans down to kiss your forehead, you suddenly can’t care any less about his behavior. What he lacked for in verbal communication, he made up for with sweet and soft touches. 

“Nothing. I just- I never thought I’d ever have you in my arms sen’ika, and now that you’re here, refusing to let me go, it’s like a fever dream.” His voice wavers a little as he speaks his truths, and you don’t realize what you’re doing until Wolffe groans your name and begs for you to take it slow. You mirror his actions and kiss across his chest, up to his neck and near the corner of his lips, wanting to show him how much you love him. He tries to pull you off of him but you keep licking at his skin, your mind adamant on ensuring that he knows this was real. 

“If this is a dream, then I don’t ever want to wake up. I want to stay here, in your arms…listening to your heartbeat and showering you with a thousand more kisses.” You say in between touches, and Wolffe throws his head back against the wall to feel anything other than the softness of your lips.

“I- I don't deserve you sweetness, and I may never deserve your love…but I swear to you cyare, I'll spend the rest of my life trying to be a man worthy of you.” He barely manages to breath out as you replace years of painful memories with softened touches. But when you suddenly stop, Wolffe snaps his attention to you to see what he possibly said that caused you to halt in your quest to mark every inch of him with the memory of your adoration. 

“Don't say that Wolffe, you- you're the only one who'll ever have my heart. You're important to me, perfect for me…more than you'll ever know.” Your heart skips a beat at the thought of Wolffe thinking that he was not deserving of your love. 

Of everyone you met throughout your life, he was perhaps the most worthy of your affections, not because of the numerous times he saved you or the different battles you led him and his men through, but because he was genuinely a kind and loyal soul. All of the clones were, but there was something different about Wolffe that attracted you to him from the first moment you laid eyes on him. He was reserved, except with those he was closest with. He has a great sense of respect, both to himself and others around him even those who didn't deserve it. He was also generous in everything he took part in, whether it was putting his life in danger for the sake of his vod or simply telling one of his brothers that they shouldn’t waste their time thinking of how others thought of them. He was generous even with you, during those rare instances when he could see through your act and recognize how tired you were. There was no need for him to go out of his way to make you comfortable during the many different missions the two of you sent on together, but he did, even if it cost him his own comfort. 

If there was ever anyone you would leave the Jedi Order for, it would be Wolffe. No one else could matter as much as he did to you. You just prayed that you'd have the heart to tell him.

Before it was too late.

“Far from it mesh’la, you’re only saying that because you’re my General.” He avoids looking at you then, afraid to find the slightest hint of agreement to his statement etched in your orbs. Wolffe shakes his head at himself, irritated that he only said those words so you can disagree with him. You’ve told him so many times throughout the night how much you love him, and even if you hadn’t, Wolffe could see how much you cared for him with each kiss and vulnerability you offered to him without a second thought.

“Hmmm, ‘my General.’ I do like the sound of that.” You trace circles across the hardened muscles of his chest, trailing your fingers down his stomach and teasing the top of his navel so he’d stop pouting at you. You almost chuckle at the way he furrows his eyebrows at you, but manage to hold back, afraid he would misunderstand your amusement for teasing and pull away. You hide your smile in his chest, not wanting him to feel embarrassed at your reaction to his little pout. Never have you seen anyone look so handsome and sexy while pouting as Wolffe, and the mere idea that he was capable of such an expression sends flutters through your heart. 

When you’re confident in your ability to suppress whatever laughter threatening to bubble up your throat, you turn to look at him again and tilt his chin to the side so he can meet your gaze. Wolffe is about to say something else but he quiets down when you lightly trace his lips with your index finger. His breath catches in his throat at the intimate gesture and without thinking much of what he’s doing, he sticks out his tongue and gently caresses the tip of your finger. The two of you are suddenly placed in a trance where you’re both mesmerized by the other’s affectionate touches, and it’s only when Wolffe leans up and bites your finger that you can finally snap out of your haze and remember what you were trying to tell him. 

“But you're still wrong Commander. I'm not saying that because I'm your General. I'm saying that because it's the truth.” 

Wolffe feels a sense of relief wash over him at your declaration, but a part of him still finds it unbelievable that you held such high regards for him, and against his better judgment, he confesses to you what he’s believed for his entire life. 

“I'm just another clone, ner kar'ta. I'm nothing special.”

The shift in your expression is instant, and Wolffe sits up immediately when he sees how shocked and angry you are at the relayed sentiment. He’s about to spew a string of apologies when you beat him to it and sit up away from him. He already misses the heat of your skin and he tries to reach for you to bring you back against his chest. You don’t give him a chance however, not caring for how aggressive you’re being as you grab his chin and force him to look straight into your eyes as you responded to his unfaithful words. 

“Wolffe, if you love me as much as you say you do, you'll never say those words to me again.” The tone of your voice is equal parts wounded and heated, and Wolffe mentaily chides himself for unintentionally turning such a sweet moment into the beginning of an argument. 

“Little one, I-” He shakes his head in an attempt to show you that he didn’t mean any offense by his words, but you shut him up again. Except this time, you’re not snapping at him in irritation or warning him of his next words. No, you’re throwing yourself into his arms and stopping whatever sorry excuse of an apology he is about to convey to you. You slip your tongue into his mouth without hesitation, trying to show him that you weren’t lying or flattering him because of your positions. Wolffe doesn’t question your reaction, arms wrapping around your back and pulling you impossibly close into him until there wasn’t an inch separating the two of you. You tilt your head to the side to deepen the kiss, and Wolffe growls in desperation as he meets your passion with as much vigor allowed for him. 

Neither of you is willing to break apart, and you maneuver yourself on top of him until you’re straddling his lap. You can feel his cock slowly hardening against your thighs, and you try your best to ignore how deliciously thick and long he feels as he nudges your oversensitive clit the more he moves beneath you. You finally manage to push away from him, and sense of pride and possession fill your soul once more when you look down and see him chase after your lips to kiss you again. Pushing your palms down on his chest, you sit up and force him to remain where he is until you’ve said everything you wanted. It’s difficult to put a coherent sentence together when Wolffe keeps looking at you like you’ve hung the stars for him, so you shut your eyes to collect your bearings before you meet his eyes again. You’re sure you can get off simply from memorizing the way his eyes roam down the expanse of your skin as if you were crafted by the maker himself, and you have to shake your head for a few moments to get your mind together once more. 

“You’re unique to me, as is each and every one of your vod. You are all special in your own ways, whether it’s your mannerisms, your smiles, your ticks…even your voices.” You trail your hands across his muscles, digging your nails into his skin occasionally when he gets distracted and breaks your gaze. He’s breathing heavily, and you’re not sure if it’s because you’re straddling him or because you’re touching him so shamelessly while revealing to him how much you appreciate him and his brothers. 

“And I want you to know that,” the words die in your throat when you place the palm of your hand on top of his chest, and grab his own hand to push it against your racing heart., “my heart noticed you from the very first time it heard your voice.” You hope that he can see how genuine your words are, because if none of what you said or offered to him tonight got the point across, then you knew you had to try harder to get him to see the deep, unconditional love you’ve always reserved only for him. 

“Sweet thing,” Wolffe cooes at you as takes hold of your arm and forces you down into his embrace. He keeps you in his arms without breathing another word, silently thanking you for everything you’ve done for him, and freely gave tonight. Wolffe was never an openly sentimental man, but he finds himself unable to stop the few tears rolling down his cheeks at hearing you reveal to him that you have loved him for so long. Although he knows he would have never minded displaying such an outburst of emotion in your presence before, he’s glad he waited until the two of you shared this night before he broke apart at your unmitigated truths. 

“And it became weak…I became weak Wolffe, have been for you ever since.” You turn your head to the side and nuzzle into his neck as you continue to whisper your heart’s affections to him. You knew better than to reveal such dangerous and sincere words, but you find that you no longer care about anything but him.

You’re not sure how long the two of you remain in this embrace, but when Wolffe finally loosens his hold on you, you push up and kiss his cheek and forehead before laying your cheek on his chest once more. 

“Keep talking like that and my heart might explode.” He chuckles as he breaks the silence, and you roll your eyes at him as you wipe the tears from his chiseled cheeks. He slips a kiss to your palm as you dry his skin, and when you rest your hand across his neck, Wolffe sighs with deep satisfaction and throws his head back, the faint evidence of a smirk managing to seep through his handsome features. 

“What a way to go…nestled between your thighs, listening to you telling me how weak my voice makes you.” You playfully shove him, hiding from his teasing gaze and wishing he wasn’t so quick to recover from the heartfelt conversation. 

“It's- kriffing hell, it's not the only thing that makes me weak for you Commander.” You admit to him with a whisper, squealing in surprise when he pinches your sides so you can stop hiding from him. 

“Is that so General?” The familiar, boyish charm returns stronger than before, and you huff in irritation at the effect his voice has on you. Waiting until he thinks he has the upper hand, you trace your hand down his form until you reach his navel, and when you catch his attention and his smirk falters, you throw your leg across his side and rut against him, smearing the wetness pooling from your slit across the skin of his thighs and distracting him long enough to answer his question. 

“Hmm, there's also your smile…rare as it may be, it makes me feel warm. And your amused chuckle when Master Koon says something sarcastic to one of the boys. And let's not forget the most important of them all…your brooding strut when you have a mission and you want to get shit done. It’s kriffing sexy watching you make your way through your battalion right before giving orders.”

“Fucking hell,” Wolffe moans as he forces his eyes away from where you’re humping him, biting into his lower lip when he looks down at you and sees a similar hunger swimming in your eyes. 

“I must say, there were times after you gave orders when I almost got on all fours for you and begged you to fuck me in front of the whole fleet.” His eyes widen for the fraction of a second at the sudden confession, but his expression turns almost devilish when he realizes that your desires weren’t too different from his own. 

“Oh yeah, well I wouldn’t have minded sweetheart. In fact, I would have fucked you real good, made sure they all knew who can make you sing so sweetly.” Wolffe leans down and nips at your jaw, content with knowing that you were as desperate for him as he was for you. You hum in appreciation at the warmth of his Force signature as he continues to shower you with affectionate kisses. It should have made you laugh realizing that Wolffe’s love language was touching and kissing, but now that you thought about it, it wasn’t surprising at all. The man lived most, if not all of his life, touch starved and untrusting. Of course he had a need to keep his skin against yours. 

You relish the quiet moment as Wolffe rubs your back and occasionally kisses the top of your head. You never want this moment to end, and the more his scent fills your senses, the harder it becomes for you to quiet down the fiery need rising deep in your chest again. You don’t know if you’ll be able to have him tonight once more, and you get the sense that it might be difficult to move off-world tomorrow if you tried to take him inside you for another time. So instead of recalling how perfect he felt as he dragged his cock against your tight walls, you leave a trail of wet kisses to the scars across his side before breaking the silence yet again. 

“When did you know?”

“Hmm?” Wolffe hums in question as his hands continue to draw random patterns across your back. 

“With me,” you hope he understands what you’re trying to ask without you elaborating because you get the sense that the question might sound stupid if you were to detail it further. 

“When did I know you had my heart?” The way the question rolls off of his tongue sends a shiver down your spine and you cuddle closer to him so he doesn’t see the effect his rather expressive and ardent interpretation of your question has on you. Had you known that Wolffe was the type to easily characterize a general question or opinion with such tender tendencies, you would have gone out of your way to chat with him more often, if only to hear his hoarse voice speak so earnestly to you. 

“Such a romantic…” 

“Don’t be so quick to judge mesh’la, you might find me pathetic if I ever answer that question.” Wolffe is quick to respond and the shyness that overtook you as soon as you asked the question evaporates into thin air when you look up and see Wolffe rubbing his face to try and hide from you. 

“Uh oh, this should be interesting then. Tell me.” You can tell that he’s embarrassed by whatever answer he clearly already has, and you sit up on your elbow to get a better look at him. 

“Nah, I don’t think I will. You think I’m romantic and I’d like to keep it that way.” He raises an amused eyebrow, but you see right through the act he’s playing, the flushed tips of his ears letting you know that his answer must have been too much for him to reveal to you. Without missing a beat, you trace your fingers up his body and lightly pass them across his nipples, hoping that you can push him far enough until he finally replied to your curiosity. 

“You know, I could pull rank right now if I wanted to…maybe even look inside that busy mind of yours and find out.” You raise your hand and tap softly at his forehead, laughing at him when he instantly snatches your wrist and pushes it away from him. He doesn’t let go, and when you try to take back your hand, his hold tightens further, a silent, warning demand on his behalf. 

“Go on then.” Wolffe calls your bluff, rightfully so, and you shrug your shoulders not a moment later before you shake your head. It may have been said as a joke, but you don’t want him to think that you would ever do such a thing without his explicit consent. 

“Hmm, I don’t need to.” You smile before you turn your attention elsewhere, studying the rise and fall of his chest as he studies your entertained expression. You know you have him right where you want him when he rubs your wrist with his thumb and loosens the hold he has on your hand before intertwining his fingers with your own. 

“Oh yeah, and why is that?”

“Because you’re going to tell me anyway.” You admit as if you already know what he’s going to do, and when Wolffe leans down and breathes the following question against your forehead, you pull away and bite your lip to suppress the smile threatening to break through your reserved aura. 

“And how are you so sure you little minx?” His voice is laced with annoyance and humor, and you can’t help but laugh out loud at how genuinely irritated he was at your line of questioning. 

“The way I see it, I entrusted you with so much of me tonight. My feelings, my desires, my body…everything. You answering my question would be all I need to know that you trust me just as much.” Wolffe is speechless at your awfully genuine confession and he hisses in pain and pleasure when he feels your Force signature blanket over him like woven fire. He doesn’t dare fight you, wanting you to take over him completely so whatever the two of you now had would grow deeper and stronger. He isn’t sure if it’s his soul being set ablaze or if it’s his body being raised to ashes, but he can’t find it in himself to care, not when you were opening up him so willingly and sharing with him the deep-sated love you extended only for him. 

“You may not have ordered me or looked in my head but karking hell woman, you had to go there didn’t you?” His voice is strained, and you’re afraid you’ve hurt him by accident, but he puts whatever doubts you had at ease when he suddenly tilts your head back and shoves his tongue down your throat. You moan into the kiss and let him take whatever he wants from you, silently praying that he’d finally give in and answer the question you’ve held in your mind for so long. Wolffe breaks the kiss with a growl, pecking you one last time before laying his head against the pillows again. 

“Fine. I knew my heart was yours when…when I saw you go at it with that Senator from the Hadar Sector.” 

It’s not the answer you expected, mostly because you don’t recall seeing Wolffe any time during that night. You briefly wonder if you were introduced then and you just couldn’t remember, but as you replay the important events of that night in your mind, you don’t once recall ever seeing Wolffe or the 104th. 

“You mean Gume Saam?” You ask as you continue to rummage through your memories to see if you missed him, but Wolffe’s low hum snaps you out of our struggling mind and turns your attention towards him. 

“Hmm.” It’s only when he looks down with a hurt look in his eyes that you finally register the reason behind that dinner. You swallow the lump in your throat in anticipation of whatever he’s about to say, already hurt that he had to hear such vile words about him and his vod from those who never once had to sacrifice anything in their lives. 

“You were there at that dinner with the senators, weren’t you?” You already know the answer, but you want to hear his perspective regardless, knowing that he must have had things he would like to get off his chest. 

“The General thought our presence would make the Senate see that we aren’t as…expendable as they believe us to be. We’re flesh and blood just like them. I wanted to tell him that he had too much faith in them but I- part of me hoped that he was right.” He toys with the tips of your fingers as he recalls the details of that night, and you wish with all your heart you can take his sadness away because if anyone deserved respect and honor, it was each and every one of the clones who weren’t asked to be a part of the war, but merely shoved into it without hesitation.

“How come I never saw you that night?” You ask him as you turn around until you’re lying on your stomach. Wolffe refuses to let go of your hand, and you don’t dare remove it from him, knowing that he needed to distract himself with something so he can respond to your questions. 

“The boys and I got good at blending in. Let’s just say a lot of spotchka went missing that night.” Wolffe tries to joke the night off, and you offer him a smile to the best of your abilities. When he sees that you aren’t buying the mask he’s slowly putting back on again, he gives up and shrugs his shoulders in defeat. 

“I don’t blame you.” 

“We were on our way out to 79’s when we heard a commotion at the far end of the room, and we almost headed your way too to break apart whatever fight we thought was going on. But then I looked over and saw the General hum in amusement and I stopped. I heard him mutter something to the other two Generals about how he always looked forward to hearing your passionate speeches. Now that I think about it, that may have been the first time I saw General Kenobi laugh so openly over your choice in insults.” Wolffe smiles the longer he speaks of you, and you look upon him long enough to memorize the soft expression before you look down and hide in shame. 

“I see.” You’re not sure what you’re supposed to say, and you mentally kick yourself for letting your emotions run away with you so easily during that gala. 

“You definitely had a way with words sweetheart.” Wolffe breaks your spiraling thoughts, and you shake your head when he tries to lean down and kiss you again. He furrows his eyebrows at you, unsure why you were suddenly refusing his touches. 

“I’m sorry you had to witness that. It was wrong of me to respond so crudely. You must have found it so difficult to respect me when we were introduced. I- maker, I acted like a child.” You shake your head and huff in irritation when Wolffe holds you down and lays the gentlest of caresses to your cheek. He remains there for longer than necessary, but it’s only when you smile at him that he finally lets go and brings you into his embrace. 

“Believe me, none of us were complaining. You were defending our honor cyar’ika, you think a few dirty words will make us think differently of you? If anything, it was your rather fiery speech that earned my respect, and when we finally met, it was only solidified.” Wolffe reassures you yet again, and you give into the kind sentiment, noticing the way his Force signature warms and spreads over you the more he speaks of his feelings. 

“You- you had me in the palm of your hand ever since then little one, and I wouldn’t have it any other way.” He whispers to you as he continues to massage your back and rake his nails down your spine, the contrasting touches making you move closer against him to feel every bit of his skin against your own. You thank the heavens that your unruly behavior didn’t make him think less of you, unsure of how you would react if he told you that he didn’t think your actions were deserving of his respect. You valued it more than anything, almost as much as his love for you. 

“You’re right by the way, I was totally wrong to call you a romantic.” You giggle when he swears beneath his breath and throws his head back to avoid looking at you. 

“Kriffing hell, I told you you’d think I was pathetic.” The sudden shift in his response makes you laugh a little harder than necessary, and you chase after him to let him know that you had more to say. 

“Oh no, I disagree with that as well. You’re…tender,” you cup his cheek and urge him to look down at you. When he does, you kiss his shoulder and trace his muscles with the gentlest of touches, “ardent,” grazing his skin with your lips until you reach his neck, and when you know you have his undivided attention, you nip at the juncture of his neck until he’s a moaning mess beneath you, “and so damn charming.”

“Only for you love, only for you.” Wolffe barely manages to breathe out, fingers combing into your hair and tugging on it so he can get a better look at you. He finds unadulterated lust coursing through eyes when he meets them, and he knows then and there that he’ll never get used to the sight of you shamelessly eye-fucking him. 

“I promise I won’t tell anyone.” You tease him some more, and brace yourself for whatever remark he’s about to throw your way when loud footsteps sound outside your door and cause Wolffe to sit up all of a sudden. His arm closes around your form instantly, and if you weren’t so spooked by his reaction, you would have told him that his protective tendencies made you fall even more for him. 

“You know who that was?” Wolffe asks when he sees your dismissive reaction to the footsteps growing fainter by the second. He looks down at you and is distracted for a moment when he notices the way you’re looking at him. He eases his hold on you but doesn’t relax down again, unsure if he needed to get out of your bed right this instant or not. 

“It’s just the temple guards, they come through every other hour.” You reassure him calmly, resting your hand across his chest to let him know that the two of you were safe behind your walls. 

“Shame, we could have put on a show for them.” Wolffe winks at you when he sees that your lust-filled gaze isn’t calming down. He hopes that the rather crude remark would make you shy away from him, but when he notices the way your muscles seem to come to life at the implication behind his words, he regrets the comment almost immediately. How was he meant to function properly now that he knew you were as enthusiastic and impassioned as he was? 

“Down boy,” you pinch one of his nipples in warning, throwing your head back in laughter when he salutes you with a firm, upright back and roars the usual response you expected from the lower ranks. 

“Yes sir!”

The two of you fall into a fit of giggles, with Wolffe making it worse by kissing down your neck and nipping at the heated skin of your breasts. You stop fighting him after a while, letting him mark you as he pleased, until the both of you were sure there wasn’t an inch of your skin that didn’t bear evidence of his touches. He continues to nose at your skin, occasionally scenting you to fill his sense with the memory of your sweet smell, one that was slowly beginning to smell like his own. 

As much as he hates what he’s about to do, Wolffe swallows the lump in his throat and reluctantly pulls away from you, taking one last look at your sated and inviting form before turning around. You don’t notice that he’s getting up until you open your eyes and watch him place his feet on the ground, body ready to stand up and move away from you. Without thinking much of what you’re doing, you sit up and wrap your arms around his neck, kissing his shoulder blades and digging your nails into his chest in hopes of showing him that you would rather him stay the night. 

“Where- where are you going?” Your voice is small, and Wolffe already feels guilty for making you ever doubt his affections. He turns his head to the side and waits for you to follow his movement so he can kiss your cheek. 

“Heading back to the barracks.” He whispers against your skin, reaching for your wrists and holding onto them tightly out of fear of feeling you let go of him. He doesn’t want to leave, it’s the last thing he wants to do as a matter of fact, but he knows that it might not end well for either of you, especially you, if he was seen leaving your quarters during the early hours of the morning. 

“Why?” You can tell he’s trying to make this easier on you, knowing that you might find it difficult to ask him to leave if the two of you spend another minute drowning in each other’s love. It breaks his heart to be the one to take the initiative, but he doesn’t ever want you to think that he would knowingly make matters worse for you, especially with everything that happened with Ahoska. 

“Because the last thing I want is to jeopardize your place with the Council.” He hopes that this answer is enough for you because he doesn’t think he’ll be able to say another word without begging you to reevaluate your loyalties…or his own. 

“I knew what I was getting myself into when I let you in here hours ago. I- I want you to stay with me, please.” Your voice wavers briefly but the request is as assertive as he’s ever heard. He takes a few deep breaths, not knowing how to respond to the sentiment mirroring his own desires. 

“Unless you want to leave for other reasons, in which case I’ll-” You, however, mistake his silence for rejection, and you slowly begin to move away from him as you try to give him an out. Wolffe doesn’t give you a chance to drown in whatever wrong implications your mind was conjuring up, and he reaches back and grabs your arms tightly to prevent you from putting any more space between the two of you. 

“I already told you mesh’la, I never want to leave you again.” 

He lets the words play in your mind for a bit before he turns around to look at you. When he finds you ringing your fingers nervously, he takes them away and brings both of them to his lips, lightly kissing each of your palms before reaching for your waist. 

“Come here love,” you follow his command without hesitation, letting him handle you however he pleases until you are nestled in his lap. When he’s sure you won’t try to move away again, he removes the covers on your bed and slips underneath them, ensuring that you don’t move too far away from him as he lays down. As he settles down with your relaxed form almost on top of him, he returns his arms around your back and rubs the expanse of your skin, silently telling you that he wasn’t planning on going anywhere for the rest of the night. 

“I love you Wolffe,” you wait until the two of you completely melt into each other before you profess your most deeply felt sentiment. So much has happened in the past rotation, most of which in the last few hours, but you put every small kernel of emotion in your exclamation to make him see that you meant those words from the bottom of your heart.

Wolffe is not silent for long, and he lifts your chin up until he meets your gaze, waiting until you mirror his smile before he kisses your forehead softly as he caresses your cheek and neck with his warm hand. 

“I love you too, sweetheart. Now, get some rest. And I promise I’ll be here when you wake up.”

— 

As the familiar chirping of birds rings across the gardens below your window and wakes you from your sleep, you groan and try to stretch but quickly find the task impossible to carry out. Blinking away the fatigue from your eyes, you turn your head to the side and quickly realize the source of your predicament. You can’t help but chuckle at the sight that meets your gaze. 

Who knew that the fearless Commander of the 104th Battalion, one of the fiercest in the GAR, enjoyed cuddling into the morning hours of the day?

You smile at Wolffe as you try your best to turn in his embrace without waking him. When he groans and furrows his eyebrows, you decide against it and instead focus on feeling him rather than seeing him. His arms grow tighter around your form, and you hold back from shuffling closer to him when you feel a particular interest poking at your lower back. Force, the man was incorrigible even in his sleep, and even though you knew you shouldn’t, you really want to slither beneath the sheets and wake him up a different way. 

Your plans are interrupted, however, when a loud noise sounds from across the room and you groan in irritation as you reach for your comms to silence the message coming in. Looking at who it’s from, you shut your eyes and relish the warm Force signature completely overtaking each and every one of your emotions. You allow yourself another few minutes of relaxation in Wolffe’s arms, meditating on the rise and fall of his chest as it brushes against your back until the pattern lulls you to peace once more. 

As much as you want to remain in bed with him, you know that the two of you had a job to do, and if he wasn’t back in the barracks soon, Master Koon might start looking for him. Placing the comms on the floor, you softly raise his arm from around your stomach and slip from beneath the sheets, careful not to wake him up until you are ready to go. You push the pillow against him to replace your heat, and let your eyes roam down his almost nude form in the process.

Kriff. You really wanted to wake him up and go for another round before he left. 

The insistent message drags your attention away, and you type out a quick answer to Master Kenobi before you grab your things to head to the refresher. Just as you’re about to enter, you hear Wolffe shuffling around and you turn around to make sure he was still asleep. A gasp almost breaks the silence of the room when you take a better look at him. You knew he was a beautiful man, they all were, but you certainly didn’t expect him to be this close to perfection. Images of last night swirl around your mind as you study him, and you realize that the lighting of your room a few hours ago did not do him any justice. Had you not known where he came from, you would have thought the force itself crafted him out of the most mesmerizing of elements across the universe. 

If you thought you couldn’t look away from him before in the heat of battle, it was damn near difficult to focus on anything but the soft expression he held as he slept between your sheets. He turns his head to the side and you get a better look at the scar adorning his eye. You’ve always known him with it, and even though you wouldn’t change a second of interaction with him, you wish you could have seen him before. You get the sense that he may have been a little more confident, but the longer you look at him, the more you appreciate the Wolffe you knew now. He was still confident, and perhaps even more handsome than before, but he certainly appeared more discerning and cunning, even a little more intimidating. You clench your fists tightly at the thought of ever coming across the one who hurt him. You would never admit this out loud, but you had a feeling that if you were to ever confront her, you would make her pay for the pain she caused him. 

You recall what he said earlier about your rather flowery language when you confronted the senator, smiling to yourself when you picture an amused Wolffe as he stood by and watched a Jedi Master lose her shit. You can almost see the confused expression turn into a smirk as the other Generals stood by and debated whether your fiery speech would result in a few clones needing to escort you away from the premises for the sake of the nerf-herder’s safety. Now that you thought about it, you wouldn’t have minded if Wolffe was the one tasked with removing you from the escalating argument. It would have certainly been an entertaining introduction. 

But just as that smile makes its way to your features as you stare at him, it’s quickly replaced with a somber look the longer you look upon his peaceful lips. 

A part of you prayed to the maker that your dreams were only the deepest fears lying in your heart, that they were temptations offered to you by the Dark Side in an attempt to betray your family, that they would never come to fruition. But you knew better than to hope this much. 

Still, you tried to keep faith that when the time came, when you finally breathed your last, it wouldn’t be too painful, for either of you. But you had a feeling that such a simple prayer may still be too difficult to ask of the universe.

Because now that he made you swear you would never leave his side again, there was no doubt about what would soon unfold.

You were still going to pass from this world into the next, as you saw a thousand times in your dreams.

And Wolffe would be, as he was tonight, a comforting embrace bridging you to a new life.

Tagging those who seemed interested when I first started this fic way back in February: @sunnydaysonthemoon @mrs-ghuleh @mandoleksiak @verdandis-blog @reaperofmen @gotomarvelgal @sjva03 @thefact0rygirl @2amandstillawake21 @ktrivia @sweetangel0069 @zombiesnips-blog @lackofhonor​

#commander wolffe #commnader wolffe/reader #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe/reader #wolffe x reader #cc 3636 #cc 3636/reader #cc 3636 x reader #the clone wars #star wars #star wars the clone wars #commander wolffe smut #Wolffe smut #clone smut #the clones smut #commander wolffe x f!reader #commander wolffe x fem!reader

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Part 2

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wolffe, Plo Koon, Cara (child OFC)

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, reader is not the spouse, grief, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 881

Author's Note: Well, I made it into a series based off of the feedback I got from the poll. I also gave Wolffe's daughter a name and updated the previous chapter to include it. Uh, forewarning, it gets worse before it gets better. We still have several parts of angst to get through before we ever start seeing glimpses of happiness, but it will happen eventually!

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

"CC-3636?" a nurse calls as she enters the hallway carrying a data-pad.

"Yes, I'm CC-3636," Wolffe says as he wipes his face. He stands up from the bench and approaches the nurse.

"I need you to fill out this form so we can alert the next of kin to claim the body," the nurse says.

Wolffe knits his brows together. "I am the next of kin. I'm her husband."

The nurse bites her lip. "I'm sorry, but according to current Republic statutes your marriage is invalid, which makes you a family-friend, not a next of kin."

"Friend?" Wolffe scoffs. "We live together. Have a child together. I'd say that's more than friends."

The nurse sighs. "Cohabitation and bearing a child doesn't constitute a legal binding marriage in the eyes of Republic law."

Wolffe's breath is stolen as he stares blankly at the nurse. She can't be serious. There's no way. They couldn't get a marriage license. It was impossible. He tried and it was futile. Every which way he tried failed. He couldn't get around the fact that he's not a legal citizen. He doesn't even have a legal name that could have been put on the marriage license. They had the ceremony, did everything else that they were supposed to do, but no one would give them an official license.   

"Speaking of which," the nurse adds under her breath, as if her own words pain her to speak. "We'll also need to contact child services since Cara is now considered a legal orphan."

"Orphan?" Wolffe exclaims. "But I'm her father!"

"Is your name on the birth certificate?" the nurse asks, as if she already knows the answer.

A lump forms in Wolffe's throat and he clenches his fist. "No… It's not. But my DNA… I'm still her biological father."

"I'm sorry," the nurse says. "But legally you aren't. She will be placed in a child facility pending a familial investigation, and if no family is found, she will be placed into foster care."

"You can't take my daughter!" Wolffe yells. "I've already lost my wife tonight! And now you want to take my kid from me too? What is wrong with you people!"

The nurse startles at Wolffe's emotional outburst. 

"She needs me!" Wolffe continues to raise his voice. "I'm all she has left!"

"Sir," the nurse says. "I'm so sorry, but there's nothing I can do. We're bound by the laws."

"I swear to the Maker if you lay a single hand on her I'll–"

"If I may," Plo interrupts. He carefully hands the sniffling child back to Wolffe, then ushers the nurse down the hallway. "Perhaps you and I can discuss the details of this form privately."

"Very well, master Jedi," the nurse says and follows him.

Wolffe collapses back onto the bench and squeezes his daughter against him as tight as he can, terrified that at any moment someone will walk through the medcenter doors and rip her out of his arms. He'll never let them take her. He'd rather die than let them take her. She means everything to him, and with his wife gone, Cara is the only piece of her he has left. He didn't think his night could go from bad to worse, but his nightmares are quickly becoming reality.

Wolffe feels Cara squirm in his arms and he loosens his grip. She doesn't say anything between her quiet sniffles, but settles herself onto his lap to get more comfortable. Her face is red and puffy from crying, and she's exhausted herself. Wolffe pulls up the edge of his sleeve and wipes the snot dripping down her face, brushes a small piece of hair away, then leans her against his chest. He tilts his head down and kisses the top of her head while rocking her back and forth.

"It's going to be okay," Wolffe whispers. "I won't let anything happen to you."

After a few more minutes, Plo returns with the nurse. They exchange a few more words that Wolffe can't hear, but the nurse is smiling, so he hopes it's good news. Maker knows he can't handle anything else going wrong. As Plo approaches the bench, Wolffe feels a new knot forming in the pit of his stomach. As tired and emotionally drained as he is, he will find a way to protect his daughter, even if it goes against all of his training and every GAR regulation.

"General," Wolffe says, his own exhaustion seeping through his voice.

"I have taken legal custody of Cara," Plo says. "She will reside at the Jedi Temple for the time being, and your wife will receive proper funeral rights as well."

Wolffe leans his head back against the wall and breathes in relief. "Thank the stars."

The fact that his general would take custody of his daughter, just to keep her from being taken away from him, touches Wolffe's heart deeply. The arrangement is still not ideal, but it's better than what he hoped for, considering the alternatives of foster care and complete strangers. At least at the Jedi Temple, Cara will be safe and cared for, and he can see her unrestricted by laws. It won't be enough when he gets deployed, but for right now, at this moment, it's more than enough.

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Masterlist

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[knightprincess]

Scars (Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader) - Prologue

Words: 1.1k Synopsis: Time doesn't heal all wounds, sometimes, there's too much hurt, too much pain to forget. Sometimes, scars are left behind. Scars that remind us the past is real. Everyone knows Love is the death of Duty. Pronouns Used: She/Her - (Y/N) also used Also On: Wattpad, Quotev, AO3 and Inkitt

The Clone Wars were a cruel, tragic, and devastating event that affected countless lives. Many lost their homes, their loved ones, their faith, and even their lives. Both the Clones and the Jedi fought and sacrificed selflessly in a war that they didn't choose to be a part of. They did everything they could to protect strangers across the galaxy, who would never even bother to learn their names or show any gratitude for their heroic actions. During the war, both the Clones and the Jedi faced many restrictions. The Clones were not allowed to enjoy even the simplest of pleasures and were treated as nothing more than mere products instead of the brave soldiers they truly were. They had fewer rights than even the convicts in the Republic prisons. The Jedi, on the other hand, were bound by their code, prohibiting them from forming any human attachments or loving anyone. They were not allowed to express basic human emotions for fear of falling to the dark side.

Despite that, though, love still somehow flourished. Clones managed to find a semblance of peace away from the battlefield in the arms of another, even if it was only for a few short hours. If they were lucky, it lasted longer. The Jedi found solace in the arms of the troopers they fought side by side with on the never-ending rotation of merciless battlefields and warzones. 

Most Clones and Jedi, in some sort of relationship, had a tendency to keep them secret, if only to avoid the scrutiny of their peers and the judgment of those who would so quickly look down upon them for wanting the simple pleasures of life. Most, if not all, of them, hid their devotion out of fear of what would happen if discovered. None of them wanted to imagine the horrors that awaited. Nor the idea of being ripped away from each other for the simple crime of wanting to love someone, of wanting to be loved, of wanting to feel more than being a warrior meant to die on the battlefield. A prisoner without chains. 

CC-3636 was one of the most respected Clone Commanders, gifted with a strategic mind and brothers he could count on for anything. Preferring to be called Wolffe, he was looked upon as a role model by many cadets. Close with his Jedi General Plo Koon, but haunted by the traumas of the war, scared even to get close to someone outside those apart of the famed Wolf pack, for fear he would lose them. He feared the Malevolence nightmare repeating with others he let himself care for. Despite that, he cares deeply for his brothers and respects Plo above all others. Many times, Wolffe had been faced with a cruel decision, forced to choose between the lives of his brothers; every time, he'd save as many as he could and never forgot the names of those he lost. 

After losing his eye to Ventress, he gained a new coldness, especially to the children of Dathamir. Although he'd admit they were few and far between, it didn't prevent his distrust in them. His distrust tainted even the purest of intentions, making him suspicious of even the gentlest acts of kindness. 

One of the most known Jedi Generals was (Y/N) Black, commonly referred to as a Princess General by many clones or simply Princess by several of her fellow Jedi. She was Dathomirian, a Night Sister similar to Asajj Ventress. Strong in the force with a talent for breaking or bending the rules, a friend to everyone, and one of the biggest supporters of Clone Rights. As a General, she was battle-tested, clever, and always had plans and backups in case anything went wrong. If one of her bright ideas was risky, the only life in danger was her own. She trusted her men, respected them, and valued their lives above her own. There was never a time when she'd called a trooper by their identification number. Instead, she called them by their chosen names, friends, or, in some cases, affection nicknames in various languages.

Everything had been selectively normal or as close to normal as the war could get. (Y/N) had returned to Coruscant with her legion 916th Battalion. Their last assignment to the outer rim had been a particularly nasty one, even more so upon the discovery that the republic information had been detrimentally wrong. The locals had been caught in the crossfire, many injured and killed, and in the end, they were forced to retreat, the droid reinforcements being too much for one lone Jedi and batallion to handle. 

Although (Y/N) hated admitting defeat with a passion, she did what was best for her troopers; once again, she had put them before the often pointless and corrupt demands of the Jedi Council and Senate. Upon returning to Coruscant, she wished her troopers a fond farewell before leaving for the Temple, mourning the loss of those who hadn't made it and wishing a speedy recovery for those who had been injured. As usual, she gave her normal line of "Stay out of trouble." 

As per usual (Y/N)'s arrival at the temple was expected. As soon as she entered the city-sized structure, she was swept to the communications center to be debriefed and hounded with questions that only served to wear down her already thin patients further, as well as question the overall intelligence of the council members interrogating her. Despite her desire to speak her mind, she kept her snide comments and obvious frustrations to herself, at least until she made it back to the safety of her quarters, where she could release her pent-up anger and frustration in privacy. Or that would have been the plan had she not been informed of a request by Master Plo. He asked for her assistance in the mid-rim. 

"I will inform my troopers," commented (Y/N), already feeling down about having to spoil the well-earned shore leave break.

"Not your men, Black, just you," quickly corrected Mace Windu, seeing her uncertainty; no doubt she still remembered what happened the last time another took control of her boys. The inexperienced Jedi knight had become lousy with the power and all but played god with the trooper's lives, cost so much all because he refused to listen to the advice of Trip, the clone captain who served as (Y/N)'s second. 

"I will leave on the marrow," replied (Y/N) before leaving to return to her quarters, exhaustion seemingly jumping her the moment she passed the threshold, her mind turning lousy too, as if it was already in shutdown mode to prepare her for the horrors that waited for her. Upon completing her normal routine, she soon got comfortable, drifting off slowly, at least before the intruding thoughts began to bug her. 

Working with her Master again would bring its own challenges. With Master Plo came Commander Wolffe, the battle-worn trooper with a known hatred of her kind. As (Y/N) tried to drift off, her thoughts turned to the struggles both would face. She was used to being judged with fear by strangers. She was used to being called a witch even when she wasn't one. But being hated because of the actions of another wasn't something she was used to; it was a challenge in and of itself, as would be working with the commander in question. After all, in his mind, she was no different than Ventress; she was the enemy, too. 

Series Masterlist

#star wars #reader insert #the clone wars #reader interactive #jedi reader #commander wolffe #star wars fanfiction #commander wolffe x reader #prologue #cross posted to wattpad #cross posted to quotev #cross posted to ao3 #cross posted to inkitt #plo koon #jedi order #clone wars

[nahoney22]

OMG HI! 🤩 Are you taking writing commissions?! Can I be added to a commission waiting list if you have one for a soft-pining between Plo-Koon and a Jedi!Reader? I’m talking like fluffiest fluff you can muster! Maybe them being like parents to their battalions! The forbidden attraction because of old Jedi rules 🥺

P.S: You are so right! None of this bs wouldn’t have happed if he didn’t bite the dust 😭

Forbidden

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Plo Koon X GN!JediReader

word count: 2.6k

Both being the greatest Jedi they can be to their Battalion, it’s no surprise that the kindness shared between you both brings you closer and maybe just maybe, makes things a little risky.

warnings: none, fluff! Minor mention of injury & death to Clones, forbidden romance trope, mutual pining. Ngl, not overly proud of this as I feel it’s a little rushed and messy. It was better in my head. I’m losing my touch.

Masterlist

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

The Medbay was often a horrible place for any person or sentient to visit and no matter how many visits General Plo attends, it is never any easier.

The last mission was a success but with so many casualties. His respect for his Battalion grows each passing second and has come to care about each man individually but at what cost? Another win yet it seemed like they were no step closer to beating the Separatist threat.

“I am here for CC-3636.” Plo speaks to one of the droids that maintained care for those who were taken in, hating using his Commander's designated number rather than his preferred name.

“Right this way. His condition is stable.”

Plo stays silent, walking down the painfully white halls of the Kaminoan facility towards one of the bays. Though deep in his thoughts, something stops him.

As if something had shoved on his chest and commanded him to stop, his head turned to look into an empty room. Well, aside from two beings in the right hand corner.

There’s a clone on the bed, no colour to their armor aside from the stark white and shiny new armor and a presence beside them. Their back was to him but he was certain that they were Jedi. That Jedi being you, someone who he still has not been formally introduced to though he had heard things. Many great things in fact.

Slowly, he turns and looks into a room opposite, busier than the others but still no other Jedi present. If he were to hazard a guess, he would confirm that the only two Jedi here were just the pair of you. All these men injured, yet it seemed that only you two had cared.

He sighs to himself, knowing he should not think ill of the other Jedi as he was well aware that most have care for their troops but clearly, maybe just not as much as him and yourself.

“Just this way Master Jedi.” The AZI droid speaks up, snapping Plo out of his doubting thoughts and proceeds to move on along. But as he leaves, you look over your shoulder and feel a shift in the Force. A Jedi was present and although curious to who it could be, you focus on your trooper and wait for him to wake up.

———-

“Anakin is growing stronger and courageous each day though I fear there is conflict within him.” Obi-Wan speaks softly as he walks alongside Plo.

The Kel Dor sensed his friend and colleagues troubles and opted to walk with him and try to clear his mind. “Your padawan is headstrong and a fine Jedi. Little Soka is becoming the ideal Jedi too because of him. Trust in him Obi-Wan and soon you will see everything will play out smoothly.”

Walking out into the courtyard, conversation changing to something more cheerful rather than Obi-Wan’s worrying woes, the two of them took in the calming air.

“Ah, look who is over there.” Kenobi points to the center of the courtyard, over by The Great Tree.

Plo looks in the direction and as if by an instant, he recognised you to be the Jedi on Kamino a few rotations ago. Your robes were breezing around your body, a content expression on your face.

“You haven’t met them yet, have you?” Kenobi asks, already getting ready to walk on over but like before, something pushed against him and his feet find their way walking over to you.

“No.” He answered him.

“Well, let me introduce you.”

Kenobi says your name aloud, catching your attention and as you turn, there’s a strange feeling in the Kel Dor’s stomach. He had not expected you to appear so youthful as you appeared wise beyond your years.

“General, what do I owe the pleasure?” You smile warmly to your friend, eyes flickering between the human male and then to Kel Dor beside him.

“Nothing at all, just thought I would introduce you to Master Plo Koon. I don’t think you two have worked together.”

When you look at him your eyes are full of intrigue and interest as you bore into the mask on his face. “No, I don’t believe we have.” You take a step closer and extend a hand. “Pleased to meet you.”

His hands or talons so to speak, reach out to you and gently clutches at the softness of your skin. His touch is surprisingly warm and enough to send chills down your arms but luckily, your robes hid the bumps. When he says your name you feel an odd sensation. A sensation as if you would want him to repeat it over and over again.

“And you. I see you find calmness in The Great Tree?” He pulls his arm back, digits leaving yours and you try to ignore how cold you suddenly felt. What was happening? Were you feeling unwell? You push the thoughts back for the time being and focus back on his question.

“Yes, I find it beautiful.” You say softly, turning to look at the leaves that bristled in the soft wind. “We’re definitely lucky to have one in our midst due to its rarity.”

There was something about you that Plo was fascinated by. Your voice was a soft and calming presence and there seemed to be no heavy grief on your shoulders. He was internally thankful that Kenobi had parted ways with you both and took the opportunity to get to know you more.

Respectfully, he had asked of your homeworld and family and listened with great interest at whatever you had to say. You also made sure to include him too and would ask questions about how the war is fairing for him and if he had any worries which reminded him:

“If you recall, I remember seeing you on Kamino though I didn’t make myself known.” He begins to walk alongside you and as you take small and slow steps, his large ones go down to a minimum.

At least the question in your mind of which Jedi had seen you that day was answered and a small smile crept onto your lips. “I thought I felt a spectre close by. You have a very warm presence in the Force.” Although you spoke calmly, there was no denying that there was a small hesitance in your mind and sincerely hoped you had not said anything too outrageous after just meeting him.

“That is kind of you to say.” He nods, genuinely appreciating your gentle words. “I hope that trooper you were seeing made a full recovery?”

“Oh yes,” you smile softly “Jammy, as I so named him, has made a speedy recovery. He got badly wounded on our last mission and I really thought he wouldn’t make it out this time.”

“This time?”

You roll your eyes a little playfully. “Hence the name. He’s been in that Medbay more times than I can count. He’s a lucky one.”

Plo smiles, noticing how affectionate you are when it comes to talking about the Clones. It was a nice relief to see one having respect for them after all they do for the GAR. It was rather refreshing.

“Who were you going to see?” You turn your head to look up at him. He chuckles softly and tells you about Wolffe, a trust Commander and the name just so happens to ring a bell.

“Wolffe,” you repeat his name, pausing, “I don’t suppose he is the Commander of the 104th? Making you their General?”

“Yes, why do you ask?” He stops with you and you find yourself blushing as you notice just how close he stood beside you, slowly moving to stand in front.

“I believe that I am joining you and your entourage in the next following days, on Aleen?” You ask hopefully and that strange sudden hope that you had was a little dangerous.

He hums a small chuckle but shakes his head. “Not me, but I’m sure my men will be a great addition in my absence.”

You tried to not look disappointed but the way he tilts his head at you makes you think that maybe he knew. “I’ll be happy to work with them, General.”

“Please,” he says softly and with enough grace places a hand to your shoulder, “call me Plo.”

————-

The relationship you had with Plo only grew from then on. Coincidentally (or not) the two of you would often find yourselves walking the halls of the Temple together but there was something not quite right.

Just now, your conversation with Plo was innocent and had you both laughing but as you passed a small group of maybe three members of the order, they were eyeing you both up suspiciously. At first you thought nothing of it but the stares lingered and then whispers would begin. You wondered if Plo had seen it too but for now, he said nothing.

When he walked you to your room, there was a small moment just outside your door. You were wishing him a restful sleep but the Kel Dor, almost unnaturally reached out and gently pushed a strand of hair away from your face. Your eyes widen, a blush creeping up your neck and you thank him quietly. He smiles a little and nods his head. “Sleep well, little one.”

The nickname was new and Maker it made you feel airy and light.

A week or two had passed and your heart that had been so full was heavy. You were back on Kamino and your chest tightened as you watched the AZI droids cover not one, not two but at least seven of your men with white sheets. The mission, although successful, left a sour taste in your mouth as you stayed in the Medbay, overlooking your fallen troops.

When the door behind you hissed open however, just by the thought of being with someone who you knew to be Plo, your emotions took over. You raised a hand to your face and quickly swept away a stray tear, turning to face your friend.

“Afternoon Plo.”

Although you could not see it, there is grief behind the mask as he crosses the threshold to you. “Come, little one… let us find somewhere else to talk.”

The nickname would have been lovely if not for the environment but alas you listened and followed after him with your head bowed. For the first time in a while, you both walked in silence until he found a quiet room for you both to sit in.

He gestures to a spot beside him and as you sit, you let out a heavy sigh.

“Your thoughts are wild and understandably so. Is there anything I can do to give you comfort?” His modulated voice was soft and gentle, just like the man he was. You knew that he knows just how hard losing men can be and it never gets any easier. For you, you make bonds with your men. Attachments so to speak, something forbidden within the Order. The thought of being careless to them made you angry and you knew some Jedi would not bat an eyelid. So as your fists tighten by your sides, there is no surprise that Plo had gently taken one of your hands and whispered, “At ease, they wouldn’t want to see you upset.”

That afternoon, you didn’t say much but you didn’t need to. Plo stayed by your side and as you felt yourself getting weary, he had let you rest upon his shoulder, even if it’s just for a few minutes.

Another week passed and another week of your feelings being a mangled mess. It was clear now that feelings had started to bloom between yourself and Plo. On your part, anyway. There is conflict within you and something tells you to back away and get a hold of yourself but that was a little impossible to do when your men had made jokey passing comments to you.

“What was that Trooper?” You turn to him with an amused gleam in your eyes, glad to see how at ease they were with you when he replies if you’re thinking about going to see the ‘Wolfpacks dad’. You snorted, dismissing him playfully but there was something in the back of your mind that was tickling your senses. Was it obvious to them that there was something there? Is that why the Jedi had been keeping a watchful eye on you both. Surely if they knew, Plo would know. This piques your curiosity even more.

That evening, you had decided to stay away from Plo purely because you did not understand these feelings yourself yet. Though, naturally, you both found yourselves in each other’s company.

You’re along one of the balconies back in the Temple when Plo had arrived.

“I didn’t think you would be here.” His voice made you jump a little, your mind so deep in force you didn’t even sense his overpowering presence.

“And why is that?” You poke at his thoughts as he stands beside you, overlooking the city below.

“This is where I often come to ponder my thoughts - something I find myself doing a lot more lately.”

Your body gets tingly at his words, heart racing a little faster. This could either be a good thing, a bad thing, or both. “Something on your mind?”

He stays silent for a few moments, his thoughts conflicted for the first time in a while. He was often quick, wise and brave but he felt the opposite now. Especially with you by his side.

“It is more someone than it is something.”

There it was. You just knew it was about you, or so you certainly had hoped unless he has someone else in his life he has kept quiet about. Words can not even string together but luckily, he does the talking. “My men, they like to talk shall we say about our relationship.”

You freeze. Relationship? Was there even one aside from friendship? “I see.”

Plo looks down at the railing, seeing your hands nervously strum along it and hoping he had read the last few rotations correctly, he quietly placed his hand over yours, talons very gently caressing into your warm skin. “Is this okay little one?” He whispers in your ear and you shudder a small gasp before nodding.

“Plo, what if someone sees us?”

“I must admit I am point the past of caring. I can not help who I admire, and that is you little one.” Plo is watching you carefully but when a small smile flicks onto your lips and your turn to face him, you carefully rest your hand upon his.

“Me too,” you sigh softly, “but I fear this may impact our place in the Order.”

Gently, his other hand comes down to your waist and turns you to face him fully. His hand leaves yours and places it to the side of your face as he looks adoringly into your eyes. “Like I said, I am past the point of caring. I can not stand to believe that we are to shut ourselves out of anything and not be deemed as a Jedi. I trust you feel the same?”

Without hesitation, you fall into his chest. Arms wrapping around his lean and tall frame, Plo wastes no time in reciprocating the gesture. “Of course I feel the same Plo… ever since I met you I could not help but-.”

“Fall for one another.” He finishes off for the both of you.

You’re both elated, glad that the mutual feelings were out in the open but for what is to happen next is uncertain. But what you both did know is that you would both pick one another over any stupid rule. Together, you will treat your own men with the love and dignity they deserve and if yours has to be a secret, so be it.

As long as you’re with him.

𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁 𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙𐄁𐄙

Masterlist

tags: @s1st3r @buddee @taskfork-archive @nunanuggets @andyoufollowyourheart @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @captxin-rex @cwarssimp @jesseeka @ashotofspotchka @oohyesplease @megafrost4 @adriiibell @theroguesully @equalityforcats @rexandechosandwich @mustluvecho @inagalaxywickedfahaway @misogirl828 @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @chxpsi @alexandrisonfire @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 7 @rain-on-kamino @either-madness-or-brilliance @by-the-primes @torchbearerkyle @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo o @therealnekomari @a-c-lee @autumnleaves1991-blog @tech-depression-inventory @mylifeinthetardisforever @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @lucyysthings @agenteliix

#plo koon #plo koon x reader #Plo koon x you #the bad batch #star wars #clone wars #nahoney22 writes

[starlightrows]

2 — Fresh Start

Hiding In Plain Sight

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Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 3.8k

Warnings: Canon typical violence, mention of vomiting

Summary: You accept an offer for a more permanent assignment and run into trouble pretty much the moment you get there

A few weeks after your unauthorized rescue mission, a transfer document appears in your inbox. You read through the document, finding it no different from the others you’ve filled out before, save for the note at the bottom. 

I hope you were serious about joining the 104th, it seems we are in need of a new field medic 

— CC 3636 Commander Wolffe 

You’ve spent a couple months loosely with the 501st, the men are so close, and you’ve grown rather fond of Ashoka and General Skywalker. But it’s never felt like quite the right fit. Maybe the 104th will be a nice change of pace. They are basically having to build a new battalion from the ground up. General Plo is well respected and exceptionally kind. And there’s something about that Commander Wolffe that you just can’t seem to shake. 

Another week later you’re on a transport ship to Kamino to meet up with your new battalion. The 501st took your leaving relatively well. Exchanged hugs and promises to see one another again. Ahsoka was delighted you were going to serve under General Plo, she studies with him often and considers the Wolf Pack as much her family as the 501st. 

You’ve never been to Kamino before, though the men have told you about it countless times. Cold, stormy, the city lights are artificially bright, and everything feels calculated and sterile. And they aren’t wrong. From the moment you land there you can see that they weren’t exaggerating in any way. 

“Good to see you again Captain” General Plo welcomes you 

“And you General. Glad to be here as well” you answer with a smile, adjusting the large duffle that contains all of your belongings on your shoulder 

“Come” he gestures for you to follow him “I’m sure you remember my commanding officer, Wolffe” 

“You’re looking well Commander” you smile at him. 

He looks… well he looks a bit stiff and awkward at the moment. Maybe he didn’t think you would accept his offer to join the team. Or maybe today is just an uncomfortable day for him given he’s now in command of a mismatched battalion that wasn’t raised together or even worked together before. You decided it’s the latter. 

“You… erm… I’m glad you accepted the transfer. I was concerned I’d have to work with a medic I’m unfamiliar with” he manages to get out as the three of you walk the eerily bright halls of Tipoca City. 

“Ah, yes. Take it from someone who’s been reassigned more times than I can count, it’s tough to break the ice” you chuckle 

“Hm” he nods, leading you into the temporary barracks room the 104th has been using during reassignment training. When he opens the door, all heads in the room turn towards you. 

“Attention!” Wolffe commands. The men fall into like standing at attention to greet you and the General. Wolffe introduces you with your full name and rank “She is our new field medic and as much a member of this team as any of you. At ease” 

The men in the room relax and come up to shake your hand. You remember Sinker and Boost, who greet you and ask how you’ve been since the rescue mission. The new members all seem pretty welcoming. 

First is their pilot, Slush whose hair has grown out past what you’d think it’s considered regulation. He’s got a charming smile and already has you laughing along with him. 

Next is Mav, with a shaved head and a big welcoming smile. You estimate that he’s probably one of the older generations of clones, but can’t put your finger on why. 

Cinder who has jarringly rough hands, “You’re probably gonna land up patching me up quite a bit” he chuckles sheepishly. 

“Get into trouble often?” You ask with a laugh 

“You could say that” he jokes 

Comet, who you realize you’ve met before. “I thought you were with the 468th!” 

“I put in for a transfer when I heard  the Wolf Pack needed some fresh blood” it’s not much of an explanation, and you’re sure there’s more to it. But you leave it there for now. 

Then there is Jag and Cricket. Both of them are young and ambitious. But in different ways. Cricket is polite and unassuming, but you can see the way he looks around at everyone when they talk and laugh. Like he doesn’t want to laugh at the wrong time or wrong thing. 

Jag is more bold. Telling you quickly that he is excited to work with you and anxious to get out there and start being of real value to the war effort. 

They are both obviously shinies given their pearly white plastoid armor. They haven’t earned their paint yet. You glance around at the men. None of them match yet. Wolffe, Sinker and Boost are still sporting crimson accents. Mav’s armor is scratched, scraped, and has a few blaster burns but it doesn’t look like it was ever painted. Cinders appears to have some black paint added here and there, but nothing that seems intentional or decided. Comet has sage green paint on his helmet and vambraces. Slush is still fully decorated in purple paint. 

These men may seem mismatched and have vastly different levels of experience, but you’re feeling optimistic about it so far. It seems everyone in this battalion needs a fresh start. 

“Given that we no longer have the flagship The Triumphant to oportate out of, our battalion is being relocated to a new Republic base until our fleet is ready. So collect your gear and meet on the shuttle” Wolffe informs them 

Given that you already have your gear you just follow Commander Wolffe towards the hanger. 

“This is quite the group commander” you observe 

“They’ve been here a while already” he admits “They’re… still getting used to each other” 

“You don’t sound impressed with them” you say quirking a brow, inviting him to further explain 

“I’m concerned. Some of them have never even been in the field” he says “Others seem a little overzealous” 

“They’ll learn Commander” you assure him 

“Hm” he grumbles 

Everyone loads up in the shuttle. Quickly packing in gear and getting on board. Slush climbs up into the cockpit to get the engines going. 

“Hey Doc” he calls down “You know how to copilot at all?” 

It catches you a little off guard, “Um, yeah I’ve flown before. Why, you need a co up there?” 

You glance around at your new squad. No one else seems to be volunteering, except Jag looks mildly put off. Though, you’re sure he doesn’t have any piloting experience, so you’re not sure why he’d be upset. 

“Come on up Doc, we’re mapped to travel through an asteroid belt and I could use an extra set of eyes up here” he calls down to you 

You glance over to Wolffe and General Plo, asking permission with your eyes. Unsure if they’re the types to want to give clearance for such things. General Plo doesn’t seem to notice or mind, he’s engaged in conversation with Sinker at the moment. Wolffe nods his head up towards the cockpit “Off you go, Captain” 

You shrug and climb up to the cockpit and slide into the copilot's seat. You’ve flown ships in the past, not this particular type of shuttle but the controls look the same. So you go through the full preflight check and get the bird in the air.

Kamino’s dense rainstorms make for a slightly tricky take off, but once you’re up and out of the atmosphere it’s smooth sailing. Slush flips on the auto navigation and glances over at you with a boyish smirk 

“I gotta know” he says “How did we land up with a mail order medic?” 

You laugh at the idea of it “Mail order? How long has this team been together waiting for a medic?” 

“Like three weeks. Commander Wolffe turned down six perfectly good medics” Slush tells you “I figured he already had someone in mind, but you’re not what I expected. So I gotta know, how did you land up on the Commander Wolffe’s list?” 

“Stars…. I’ve only met him once. I was on the rescue crew that went back for him and the rest of the 104th after the Battle of Abregado” you explain 

“Mmm… you must have made quite the impression” he comments 

“Can’t imagine why. He never even saw me in the field” you consider this fact, why did he request for you to transfer to his command?

“You must have done something to gain his trust. Commander Wolffe is a pretty particular guy” Slush shrugs 

“Alright then, how did you land up being the pilot for the most particular commander in the GAR?” You ask 

“I was actually originally a member of the 104th when the war first started, I got recruited to fly for the 187th” he tells you 

“Really? You worked alongside General Windu?” You ask 

“Oh yeah. The 187th are good guys, but to be honest purple isn’t my color and just wasn’t the right fit” he says 

“We’ll have to get everyone some crimson paint then” you say. But even as the words come out of your mouth, they feel sad and empty. 

“I think… I think Wolffe wants to pick a new color. Crimson was their color, if we’re gonna be a team and work well together, we need to have our own story our own colors ya know” Slush says, matching your somber tone

You nod “I suppose you’re right. I’m sure the team will come together well in time, we just need— agh!”  

Suddenly the ship starts violently shaking. The ship drops out of hyperspace and is under fire. 

“Slush! What’s going on up there?” Commander Wolffe growls 

You pull up one of the scanners and see there are two gunships tailing you. 

“We dropped out of hyperspace!” You call down to the squad “Someone’s shooting at us!” 

“Who?” General Plo calls 

“I don’t know sir” Slush yells down “We’re taking heavy fire!” 

Down below, the men strap into their landing harnesses, and prepare for a bumpy ride. General Plo attempts to reach out into the Force and feel for any intentions of malevolence. 

You pull up the navigation system, while Slush tries to evade the blasts. The star map indicates that you’re not in Separatist territory, obviously Slush wouldn’t have programmed a route that would take the team through Separatist controlled space as it is. But this system is unincorporated and considered neutral. Based on what you’re seeing, there might not even be sentient inhabitants in this system. This ship is not equipped to handle a major fire fight like this. 

“Can we jump?” You ask him, frantically trying to determine if the in range planet has hospitable conditions for your squad 

“No. I don’t know how, but they pulled us from hyperspace and disabled our core. We’re gonna need to get them off our tail and make repairs” he says 

“Well good news then, the air down there is breathable and its star is far enough away we won’t freeze or burn the second we land” you tell him, putting away the scanner

“Good enough” He says, turning a switch to put the ship steering to manual and solely his console. His typically relaxed and easy going nature is replaced by a focused and determined expression. You haven’t known him more than a few hours but you can tell, this is a deviation from his usual demeanor. 

“Everybody hand on!” He hollers with a slight turn of his head. 

Everyone below grips their safety harnesses and tries not to let any of the others see how utterly terrified they all are.

Slush expertly changes course and begins a rapid descent towards the planet’s surface. The enemy ship is hot on your tail, blasting at you with everything they’ve got. This little shuttle ship has blasters to return fire. This is a game of evasion. 

The planet seems to be some kind of massive jungle ribboned with twisting rivers and canals that remind you of Coruscant’s super highways. Under any other circumstances you would be fascinated and awed by the scenery, but right now you’re just trying not to scream by clenching your teeth. 

Slush angles the ship down towards the surface and makes a nose dive. The enemy ship sprays a maelstrom of blaster fire down at you and pursues with full force. While you’re putting in all of your mental effort into not screaming or giving up your lunch, you can hear below that not all of the men are quite as successful as you. 

The tops of the trees are becoming more and more clear through the front view shield. Briefly you wonder if Slush intends to crash the shuttle through the underbrush or maybe he has a death wish. But at literally the last second he pulls up and the ships under belly through rips the uppermost branches of the trees. Behind you the other ship does not pull up so fast. It crashes down through the foliage and you hear more than see the massive explosion that follows. 

You turn and look across the cockpit at Slush, whose death grip on the controls seems to have loosened considerably. 

“Alright, I say we take a little jungle cruise and try to figure out whose starship insurance just skyrocketed!” He says brightly, as if the last fifteen minutes of pure terror was nothing more than a breezey shuttle jump. 

“Uhhh… I’d better go confer with General Plo and Commander Wolffe” you say, a little dazed 

You make your way down to the hold and find some men in better conditions than others. Mav is patting Cricket’s back while he vomits into what appears to be an unused gear bag. Sinker and Boost both seem to be okay, Cinder and Comet both look a little green around the gills, but doing their best to keep it together. Jag hovers anxiously by the ladder up to the cockpit. General Plo and Wolffe both seem alright, and are speaking to each other hurriedly, they both look up at you as if they’d been waiting when you step down into the hold. 

“Captain, what does it look like out there?” General Plo asks 

“Appears to be a jungle planet sir” you answer “Slush was saying he thinks it would be a good idea to check out the crash site to see if we can determine who was trying to shoot us” 

Wolffe grumbles, the squad is already late as it is to report in at their new base. But, it would be worse to show up late and not have any intel from this unfortunate occurrence. 

“Alright” he relents “But let’s be quick about it” 

You nod and head back up into the cockpit to relay the information to Slush “And, try to make it a smooth landing will ya?” 

“Is Cricket throwing up?” He asks, feeling a little guilty 

“Yeah, Cinder and Comet aren’t far behind him. I’m gonna go back down there and get them some ginger tabs” you tell him 

“I’ll give us a smooth landing” he says a little sheepishly “Tell the boys I’m sorry” 

You give his shoulder a pat and head back down to go take care of your sick squadmates. But before you can get to your medical bags Jag stops you

“Uh, hey Doctor… mind if I take your spot up there?” 

“Oh? Uh, yeah sure. I’m sure Slush won’t mind” you shrug. That is all the permission he needs, Jag disappears up the ladder and into the cockpit. Well that is one less flight sick crew member you have to worry about. 

You get to work making sure everyone looking even a little pukey to take ginger tabs and drink water, and inform them that Slush isn’t anticipating any sort of rough landing. 

True to his word the flight back to the shipwreck is quick and smooth. By the time he has the ship touched down on the bank of one of the many winding rivers Cricket is looking a little better and everyone is ready to walk around a bit and stretch their legs. 

When you step off the shuttle you find that your battalion is not alone. It seems the locals on this planet not only saw and heard your firefight, but had come out in the masses to examine the wreckage. General Plo goes to make first contact. 

He introduces himself and the squadron and does his best to explain the situation to the locals. Wolffe orders the men to start going through the wreckage and look for evidence that would explain who or what was chasing you. You stand behind General Plo, prepared to help answer questions. 

The local people that live in this region express that they have not met many beings from other planets. Not many of their people leave their planet, and even fewer outsiders arrive on this planet. Intentional or otherwise. 

Wolffe comes up to you and taps your shoulder, you turn to him and face away from the General and his conversation with the locals. He leans over and puts his lips by your ear.

“The ship is full of Separatist droids” he whispers “Find out if they know anything about it” 

You lean away from him and nod, but you can’t help the warmth that creeps into your cheeks from his unexpected proximity. 

“Forgive me General” you speak up “What do you call your planet?” 

“Eris” one of the locals replies 

“Is Eris affiliated with the republic?” You ask

“No. We were extended an offer many years ago. But we declined. We have nothing to offer your republic and you have nothing we want in return. Neutrality seemed the right choice for us” an older woman explains 

“And you remain neutral in the war?” You ask, a little surprised 

“Indeed. There is no war here. The people in our nine regions coexist in harmony. And it has been to our advantage that we are largely ignored by the larger, more incorporated systems in our galaxy” another chimes in.

“I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but I do not believe your world is being entirely ignored in this war. That ship that crashed was not one of ours. It pulled us out of hyperspace when we came into range of your planet and attempted to shoot us down” you gesture to the wreckage “It is a Seperatist ship. I have a bad feeling they may either have plans to incorporate your planet or already be secretly occupying it on one of the other regions” 

“The people of Eris would never consent to join an outside government” someone cries out 

“And I believe you, my friend. But the Separatists do not take no for an answer. They will take your planet by force if they are denied access to your allegiance and natural resources” 

A murmur rises up in the crowd. Whispers about the Separatists and the republic. 

“Please. I understand your desire for independence and sovereignty. But the Separatists are merciless and will take from you what they want with no regard for who they hurt” 

The crowd continues to murmur amongst themselves until another speaks up to be a voice for the group “We will need to convene a meeting of the regions” 

“We would be happy to provide you with any resources, medicine, supplies that you or any of the other regions may need” you offer “We must return to our base, but would it be alright if we send republic diplomats to speak with you about a potential alliance?”

“That would be acceptable” 

You and the men bid the locals goodbye, and leave them with a com device the diplomatic can use to contact them when they come to negotiate at a later time. 

“You did well” General Plo comments as you walk between him and Commander Wolffe back to your shuttle. 

“Thank you General. I hope I didn’t overstep by extending that offer” you rub the back of your neck a bit sheepishly 

“Not at all my dear. Your approach was kind and welcoming. I believe they will join the republic in time” General Plo says “Now then. Commander I believe we have a schedule to keep” 

“Yes sir” Wolffe says before looking over his shoulder to holler back to the men “On the double boys! Let’s go!”

They hurry after you to the ship and get loaded up. Mav had stayed behind to make repairs to the ship and it was purring like a kitten, ready to go. 

The trip back to the base is smooth and uneventful, but you also had no desire to be copilot again. So you let a very eager Jag take your place. Instead you sat down in the hold next to Commander Wolffe. 

“So, a brand new wolf pack” you say with a bit of a smile “They’re not so bad eh” 

“No. They did well during our emergency landing. And seem to be taking orders well now that we’re not all cooped up on Kamino” he admits 

“Can I ask you something Commander?” You venture 

“Shoot” 

“Slush told me that you turned down more than a few perfectly qualified medics, and instead made me offer to transfer. Any particular reason why?” You hope to get an actual answer from him, and not a militaristic ‘your qualifications matched’ sort of line. 

“Rex speaks very highly of you” he says honestly “But, after what happened on the Triumphant. Losing our entire squad. I’ve been craving some… familiarity. Slush came back without me even asking. And you… you’re a good medic” He says “At the end of the day, you took care of me and the boys after the Triumphant. I hoped you’d be able to keep looking after us and patching us up”

“Hmm… is that why you’re feeling a bit on edge about Jag and Cricket?” You nod your head towards Cricket and Cinder where they sit on the opposite side of the shuttle. “They’re unfamiliar?”

“All of them really. They’re all my brothers. But… you know what it’s like… you get attached to your squad” he sighs 

“I know exactly what you mean” you agree 

Inwardly, Wolffe had hoped you would not ask him that question. He did tell you the truth. But selfishly, he wanted you to be the medic for his squad because he couldn’t stop thinking about you. You were the first person he saw after he woke up. He can hear you call out his name when he thinks back to waking up in that overly bright recovery room. He felt comforted by your voice. 

General Plo had advised him not to agonize over choosing new servicemen to form the new battalion, but follow his intuition if he had gut feelings on anyone. And he had a gut feeling about you.