#commander wolffe x fem!reader

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Dancing Lights

Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Summary: During a mission on a frigid planet, you get lost in a blizzard and Wolffe becomes desperate to find you before you freeze to death. Once he does, he’s forced to reveal a secret part of himself in order to protect you from a territorial pack of wolves.

Pairing: Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wolffe, Plo Koon

Tags & Warnings: 18+, implied/referenced nudity with no descriptions, established relationship, hurt/comfort, light angst, suggestive themes, implied sexual content, violence, blood, injuries, reader doesn’t know she’s pregnant, protective!wolffe, snowed in, abandoned cabin, cuddling for warmth, Brother Bear/Balto type spiritual references, happy ending

Word Count: 12.7k

Author's Note: The terms "alpha" and "mate" are used in one part of the fic for a very specific purpose as a language marker (there are NO sexual, kink, or ABO implications). There’s also a distinctive speech pattern shift between Wolffe talking to the wolves and Wolffe talking to himself and the reader. This is intentional. The perspective shifts between the reader and Wolffe a lot, but the change is always separated by a paragraph break. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Smile

Wolffe frantically searches for you. One minute you’re walking behind him and the next minute you’re gone. He trudges through the piling snow, calling out your name, barely a whisper over the raging winds and whipping snow, but receives no response for his efforts. The battalion lost long-range communications soon after the blizzard started and you’re not answering on comms, so his only hope is to find you before the drifting snow claims you. He can’t lose you, not now.

Wolffe only dares to backtrack so far to look for you, or he might lose the battalion as its dark gray silhouettes slowly fade into the white tundra. Wolffe stares out into the nothingness and calls your name as loud as his voice will let him. Then he waits, hoping for a shred of your voice to make it back to him, but he hears nothing. Gritting his teeth, he turns on his heels and uses the backs of his men as wayfinders to trudge his way up to the front of the procession.

“General,” Wolffe shouts over the storm.

“Yes, commander?” Plo Koon asks as his snow covered parka blows wildly in the wind.

“We’ve lost one of the… men,” Wolffe says, pausing to consider whether he should name you as the lost soldier. He knows how Jedi feel about attachments, and he’s not in the mood for a lecture. “They appear to be lost in the storm.”

“Have you attempted to make contact?” Plo Koon asks.

“Yes, sir,” Wolffe answers. “Multiple times, sir, with no success.”

Plo Koon raises his hand to his face in thought. “That is a predicament.”

“Sir,” Wolffe begins in a serious tone, “with your permission, I want to go after them.”

“That would be ill-advised, commander,” Plo Koon answers. “The storm is getting worse and we must advance to the rendezvous point before we become buried in it ourselves.”

“But sir,” Wolffe argues. “We can’t afford to lose anymore men. Our numbers are dwindling as it is. We need to find them.”

Plo Koon crosses his arms and waits a moment to respond, reading Wolffe through the force like an open book. “Attachments are dangerous, commander. As lethal as this storm.”

Wolffe grimaces and shifts on his feet like a child getting caught in a lie. “I don’t believe in leaving men behind, sir.”

Plo Koon’s facial features soften and he places a gloved hand on Wolffe’s shoulder. “Neither do I, but you are needed here. Perhaps we can send a scout.”

The general is both right and wrong. Having their commander walk away in the middle of a stressful situation will reduce the battalion’s morale significantly. They have been marching to their next rendezvous point for days, and the blizzard is only making it more difficult. However, there is no way in the stars above that a mere scout will be able to find you in this storm. The scout is more likely to get himself lost. But Wolffe? He can find you, without a shred of doubt.

“With all due respect, sir,” Wolffe argues, clenching his fists together to hold his composure. “I am the most suited for this mission. You know this. I refuse to risk any more of my men dying in this storm and being buried unceremoniously under a pile of snow.”

Plo Koon considers Wolffe’s words and the conviction behind them, then sighs. “Very well.”

“Thank you, sir,” Wolffe says, finally releasing the breath he was holding in.

“However,” Plo Koon continues. “We cannot halt the convoy or render aid if you fail your mission. You will be on your own.”

“I understand,” Wolffe nods before turning to walk away.

“And Wolffe,” Plo Koon adds quickly. “Come back safely. Both of you.”

Wolffe doesn’t answer, but the sentiment shared between the two is unmistakable. He will bring you both back safely, or it’s the last thing he’ll do. Wolffe climbs up into the ATTE he’s been living in for the duration of this campaign and grabs his pack. He grabs everything he might need, including canteens, rations, medical supplies, an emergency blanket, and a spare set of blacks, as well as tossing out anything that he knows he won’t need. Traveling light is a must.

Before making his departure, Wolffe seeks out Sinker and temporarily puts him in charge of the battalion for the duration of his absence. Leaving the battalion in Sinker’s hands is an easy decision for Wolffe to make. The sergeant has been by his side since the beginning of the war, and has shown considerable aptitude and courage under distress. Wolffe knows that he is up for the challenge and has faith in him to lead the men to the rendezvous point mostly unscathed.

With everything in order, Wolffe hops down from the ATTE, his boots sinking deeply into the fresh fallen snow beneath. The wind is ripping and visibility is minimal, but Wolffe steels himself and sets out in the opposite direction of the battalion. After a few yards, he looks back. The gray silhouettes of the men and machines are gone. There’s no turning back now. He faces forward, picking his feet up and over the snow in a painstakingly slow process, but at least he’s moving.

As he trudges through the blizzard, snow begins sticking to his armor and weighing him down. He stops every so often to brush himself off, but it quickly becomes a useless effort. He grumbles to himself that of all the planets you had to get lost on, why did it have to be this one? He’s not angry, but he is scared; scared for you and for the little package you carry inside you unawares. Regardless of how he feels about the situation, he is determined to find you.

After a little while longer, he stops and stands still. The snow swirls around him, covering his visor and the gray markings on his armor. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, calling on the senses lying dormant within him to come to the surface and aid him in his search. No human or comm system can find you in this storm, but maybe he can. Maybe the wolf inside him can. A spirit of a bygone era that speaks to his soul at night and shows him images of dancing lights.

Wolffe removes his helmet, a dangerous move in this type of weather. The temperature alone could kill him with frostbite, but he needs to feel the air around him. The cold nips at the tips of his ears and wind blows through his short hair without caution, leaving little bits of frost at the tips. With his eyes still closed, he breathes deeper, calming every nerve in his body until he can find your presence. If we can’t locate you like this, then he’ll be forced to make a drastic move.

Suddenly, it clicks like a strike of lightning. Whether it’s a feeling, a sense, or an intuition, he knows where he needs to go. He shakes the snow off his head and replaces his helmet, bristling as the cold snow melts down the back of his neck. But, he doesn’t have time to worry about his comfort at the moment. Every second he wastes thinking about himself is another second lost trying to find you. He turns and starts walking, letting his internal compass guide him to you.

As he continues forward, the storm lets up a little. He wonders if the change will be permanent or if it’s just a momentary lull. Again, he doesn’t have time to think about the logistics when you could already be dead and frozen, buried under a pile of snow. He shakes his head at the intrusive thoughts, then notices a ridgeline of trees in the distance. His stomach flips and his breath quickens. He knows you’re in there. You’re smart. Of course, you’d try to find shelter.

Wolffe moves as fast as he can through the piled snow towards the forest of trees. He senses that you are nearby. He stops at the edge of the wooded area and scans to the left and to the right, searching, listening, hoping, and praying that he’s not too late and that he can find you still alive. As he’s standing there, a shiver runs up his spine and he knows he needs to find you soon. If he can find you in this weather, so can they, and he’s not in the mood to deal with that.

He enters the tree line cautiously, then hears a sound in the distance that stills his heart. He doesn’t have much time to find you. Breaking out into his best sprint through the deep snow, he pulls on the trees and branches for leverage, making his movements faster as he frantically searches for you. You're close. He can feel it. He can smell it. His heart is beating out of his chest at the sound. They’re coming, a lot of them, and he doesn’t want to be here when they arrive.

Wolffe releases a heavy sigh of relief when he finally sees you, or rather, he sees your emergency shelter tied to a couple trees. You have the beacon on, but its light is barely visible against the white and gray landscape. The shelter is partially buried by the snow and Wolffe falls to his knees to dig you out. The wet snow seeps through his gloves, and the cold bites at his fingertips, but he doesn’t care. He continues digging until he finds the opening of the shelter.

Once he finds the entrance, he digs a bit deeper to make a little path for him to snake his body down and get into the shelter to get you out. When the path is wide enough for his body, he gets on his stomach and shimmies his way to where the zipper is. He pulls it open just enough to peek inside and no more. That’s when he sees you, curled up into a protective ball, covered in an emergency blanket, with a small heat lamp in the middle of the shelter to keep you warm.

“Cyare,” Wolffe calls gently as he opens the entrance wider and wiggles the upper half of his body into the tent. There’s barely enough room for him to crawl on his hands and knees.

You stir and make a small grunting noise.

Wolffe releases another sigh of relief, then rests his forehead against the cold canvas floor of the shelter. He thanks the stars you're still alive. Sadly, his brief moment of relief is quickly interrupted when he hears the sound in the distance again. They’re getting closer and he’s running out of time. He picks his head up and curses under his breath. He needs to get the both of you out of here now, or there will be trouble, and not the type he can easily deal with.

Wolffe stretches out his hand and tugs on your foot, trying to wake you from your sleep. “Cyare,” he calls a little louder.

You startle awake. The light from the tent-opening blinds you for a moment and the cold air nips at your exposed face. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Wolffe’s familiar bucket staring at you. “Wolffe?”

“It’s me,” he says.

“You found me!” you exclaim with excitement.

Wolffe wiggles the rest of his body into the small tent and pulls you into his arms the best he can, gently pressing you against his armored chest. He removes his bucket and rests his forehead against yours. “I found you.”

The sweet reunion is cut short when Wolffe hears the sound again, but this time, it’s not so distant. He jumps into action, releasing you and putting his bucket back on. “Pack up,” he orders. “We have to go. Now.”

You're shocked by the sudden urgency, but you follow Wolffe’s lead and begin rolling up the blanket. “What’s the hurry? The storm–”

“They’re coming,” Wolffe interrupts while stuffing all of the loose items into your pack.

“Who’s coming?” you ask in confusion. One minute you’re sleeping peacefully in your shelter as you wait out the storm and the next minute Wolffe is rushing you back out into the storm.

“We don’t have time for me to explain!” Wolffe snaps. He feels more afraid than he was before he found you.

You’re slightly offended by his harsh tone, but if you know anything about Wolffe, it’s that he doesn’t mess around, especially when it has to do with someone’s safety. You decide not to push the issue and hasten your pace to get things wrapped up. The good thing about emergency shelters is that they’re quick to assemble and even quicker to tear down. You both finish with the pack and you follow Wolffe outside of the shelter and break that down too.

Before you get in another word edgewise, Wolffe grabs your arm and pulls you along through the snow. His grip is tight and you struggle to keep up, feeling like your arm will rip out of its socket. “Wolffe, stop!” you shout while pulling on his arm with your free hand. “Let go!”

Wolffe ignores your struggle, believing that you’ll forgive him later for his roughness when you’re both safe. He doesn’t have the time to coddle you or explain why you need to run away as fast as you can. Your yelling doesn’t help his cause, but then again, they don’t need to hear you in order to find you. It’s already too late, Wolffe knows this, but he refuses to give up without at least trying to get you to safety. Even if he has to deal with it on his own, he needs you safe.

You continue to struggle against Wolffe’s grasp and fight him with each step as you demand an explanation from him. He doesn’t give you one. He doesn’t even turn around to look at you. He just keeps walking, not letting up on his brisk pace that has you panting in cold air that burns your lungs. Finally, in a last ditch effort, and to give your lungs and legs a break, you let your legs go slack and plop yourself down into the snow, jerking on Wolffe’s arm on the way down.

Wolffe stops and grunts in frustration. “We don’t have time for this!”

“Wolffe!” you yell through a panting breath while trying to get him to listen to you. “I can’t keep up. My legs. My lungs. It hurts.”

Wolffe lets go of your arm and paces in a circle as he thinks. “I need you to get up.”

“I told you, I can’t!” you argue. 

Wolffe kneels down on the snow in front of you and removes his bucket. He grabs both of your cheeks and forces you to look into his eyes. “I need you to get up. Now.”

His gloves feel cold on your skin and for a moment you see something flash across his eyes, something desperate that you’ve never seen in him before. But before you get to respond, you hear it. The sound of howling in the distance. You watch as Wolffe tilts his head to the side to peek around you and in an instant, you finally understand. How he heard them before you did, you may never know, but that sound is what Wolffe has been afraid of, the sound of wolves.

You find new strength in your fear and get to your feet, ready to start running again, but Wolffe doesn’t move with you. You turn to see him still kneeling in the snow, staring out through the trees at nothing. Your confusion turns into worry which then turns into a deeper fear. You step behind him and place your hand on his shoulder for reassurance. He places his hand atop yours and stands to his feet. He knows something you don’t, but you're too afraid to ask him what it is.

“It’s too late,” he says in a hushed tone.

“Too late?” you ask as your voice quivers. “Too late for what?”

Wolffe turns around and pulls you tight against him, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His cold plastoid armor digs into your clothing. He can hear the fear in your voice and it breaks his heart. This is exactly what he was afraid of, what he didn’t want to happen. The scenario he’s played over and over in his mind since he started out on this mission, the one he so desperately wanted to avoid at all costs, is now inescapable.

Wolffe drags his lips up to your ear and whispers. “Do you trust me?”

You shiver as his hot breath ghosts against the cold shell of your ear. “Always,” you answer.

Wolffe pulls away and plants two firm hands on both of your shoulders. “I need you to listen to me and do everything I say. Understand?”

You look into his eyes and nod your head. “I understand.”

“Don’t move,” Wolffe orders. He shakes your shoulders, like he’s trying to ingrain it in your body. “Don’t move a single inch, no matter what happens.”

You're confused by the instructions, but you trust that Wolffe knows what he’s doing, so you go along with it. “I won’t move. I promise.”

Wolffe nods his head and gives you a small half-smile. “Good girl.”

You watch him carefully, studying his body language, the way he worries his lip and shifts his weight from leg to leg. You can’t help but notice the growing anxiety, so you bring your hand up to cup the side of his face to reassure him. You smooth your hand over his reddened cheek, your fabric glove catching on the rough bristles of the stubble growing in. Wolffe places his hand over yours and leans into the caress, then pulls it away from his face to kiss your palm.

“You know I love you, right?” Wolffe whispers against your hand.

You smile. “I know.”

Wolffe relishes in the simple and soft moment he’s allowed to have with you. He’s not sure what will happen, but he knows that at least in this moment, he has you. He found you, which is what he set out to do. Mission accomplished. But, the promise he made to the general before he left the battalion reverberates in his mind. He swore he would bring you both back safely, and that’s what he still intends to do, no matter the cost.

An eerie silence washes over the area. Every sound of nature is muted by the snow and what’s left in its wake is a hollow peace. However, that silence is pierced by howls and soft steps in the snow. Wolffe closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then turns to face the oncoming enemy. He keeps one hand on you for reassurance, and the other in front of him for his own defense, not that it will do him any good. His blasters won’t help him here either, not against a full pack.

The wolves come into view and surround you and Wolffe in a circle. Their fur coats are light gray and white, perfect camouflage for this place they call home. If it weren’t for their golden eyes and black noses, you wouldn’t even be able to see them. Your breath hitches in your throat at their menacing presence. The wolves are large. Larger than you ever imagined from the books you’ve read, with the tips of their ears easily coming up to your hips. You swallow back your fear.

The pack circles around you and Wolffe, then comes to a stop. Wolffe holds his ground as he waits for their next move, but he doesn’t have to wait long. A large, older looking pure white wolf steps out from the circle. The alpha of the pack, Wolffe assumes. He knows what he needs to do, but even in the face of all of these wolves, he’s reluctant. Without an explanation, he’s not sure how you will react to what he’s about to do, but at this point he doesn’t have a choice.

To your surprise, Wolffe starts shucking off his armor, tossing it about haphazardly until he’s only left in his black bodysuit. You watch him with bewilderment, trying to understand why he’d take his armor off during a situation like this. He’ll freeze to death with so little coverage and be vulnerable to attack. You remember his words about not moving, but you want to reach out and touch him. He must be able to read your thoughts because he turns his head to look at you.

“Remember what I said?” Wolffe asks.

“No moving,” you answer. “But Wolffe–”

Wolffe puts a finger to your lips. “Trust me.”

You nod your head and kiss his finger, earning you a sly grin.

Wolffe turns to face the white wolf and you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Bright yellow lights emanate from Wolffe’s fingertips, his toes, his eyes, and his mouth. Wind blows by your head and swirls around him, obscuring everything but his silhouette. You watch as his body morphs into a smaller form and your breath is stolen in awe. He doesn’t make a sound, even as his body contorts into unfamiliar angles. The wind and light disappear and what’s left behind is a wolf.

“Wolffe?” you ask hesitantly, body shaking from what you just witnessed.

Wolffe cranes his neck around and looks back at you with a single, piercing, golden eye, the other eye is still cybernetic and the scar over it has morphed to fit his new facial figure.

“You’re a… wolf,” you stutter in shock.

You’re stunned. When Wolffe asked you to trust him, you weren’t expecting this. You stare at his new form, a man’s body traded in for dark gray fur across his face and ears that travels down his back, a lighter cream color across his belly and legs, and a black stripe down the middle of his back that stretches to the tip of his fluffy tail. He’s a wolf, there’s no mistake about it. You can’t help but admire his beauty, and also feel a level of terror at the teeth hidden in his mouth.

Quite the show, the Alpha says.

Wolffe turns his head back to look at the Alpha. Not great. Rusty.

The Alpha considers Wolffe for a moment, unsure of what to make of him. Your wolf-speak is less than to be desired.

Wolffe snorts. Been a time.

The Alpha is not impressed with Wolffe and circles around you both, sizing up the situation.

As the Alpha moves around you, you notice that it’s much larger than Wolffe, but it also seems much older. You’re not sure why, but that’s the impression you get. You can see multiple scars across his body, each one a proud win against another wolf, you suppose, just as the clones have scars from their battles. To you, everything is quiet. You can’t hear them communicating, but you watch their body language and hear their growls, which still doesn’t mean much to you.

Wolffe plants his paws firmly into the snow, ears pinned, and snarls. Back!

Easy, pup, the Alpha says as he makes a full circle back to where he started. I’m only observing.

Not pup, Wolffe growls.

No? the Alpha questions. Then what are you?

Alpha, Wolffe answers. Own pack.

The Alpha looks at Wolffe with intrigue. Oh? I would have never guessed. You’re rather small for an alpha.

Wolffe barks at the insult, baring his fangs in an intimidating display.

It works, well, at least on you it does. You flinch at the sudden loud noise.

The Alpha disregards it and looks past Wolffe to you. What is that? A hunting trophy?

Wolffe’s fur bristles at the insinuation and rumbles out a low protective growl. Mate.

Odd choice… the Alpha says as he continues to stare at you with mild interest. He decides to ignore you for the time being. Tell me, alpha, what are the laws that govern?

Wolffe cringes at the question. He knows the answer, it’s written somewhere in the DNA that entangles with his own, but his wolf-speak is poor and he can’t put the words together.

Has your tongue gone still? the Alpha goads. Trespassing in another pack’s territory is an offense punishable by death.

Wolffe retakes his defensive stance and bares his fangs.

The Alpha pauses for a moment before responding. However, I am feeling generous today, young alpha.

Wolffe’s ears twitch.

You have two choices, the Alpha offers. Join our pack at a lower rank and we’ll let your mate go free or give us your mate as tribute and you may go free. The choice is yours.

Wolffe snorts at the two bleak choices and decides to make his own third option. He raises his head and howls loudly towards the sky.

The sound is deafening and you cover your ears to try and muffle it. You’re not sure what they’re doing now, but the tension and uncertainty is making your skin crawl. The golden eyes that stare at you from around the forest make you feel small and afraid. You wish to be able to speak to Wolffe, to get any shred of reassurance that everything will be okay, but he hasn’t said a word to you. Your best guess is that he can’t talk to you, which is the only thing that makes sense right now.

Wolffe finishes his howl and waits for the response.

You want to fight? the Alpha asks. A bold move for one so young and stupid.

Not dumb, Wolffe replies. Protect mine.

The Alpha snorts, then stares into Wolffe’s eyes as he searches his soul. You have the spirit of ages within you, young alpha. My old eyes can still see. The Alpha pauses. I will respect your wishes. If you win, you and your mate will earn safe passage through our land, but if I win, you will join our pack and your mate will perish.

Wolffe takes a deep breath. He has too much to lose not to stay focused. Seal it. Sing the song.

The Alpha lifts his muzzle towards the sky and howls. Wolffe then joins in the howling, letting their wolf-songs mingle and intertwine in the sky like a binding contract.

Promise, Wolffe says. Mate not hurt.

You have my word, the Alpha says. Your mate will not be touched during our fight.

Wolffe nods and takes a fighting stance. The Alpha does the same.

You watch the two wolves with great anticipation as your legs tremble beneath you. You’re still unsure about what’s going on, but whatever it is, you trust Wolffe. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. That’s what he told you to do and that’s what you have to hold on to. You must have faith and believe that Wolffe will work things out and you can both go home soon. But waiting in silence, without knowing, is slowly killing your nerves. You want to run and escape.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when Wolffe and the Alpha lunge towards each other, fangs bared. A gasp escapes your throat and you have to tell your trembling legs not to move, just like Wolffe told you. The two wolves collide, both going for each other’s necks. You watch in horror as tufts of gray and white fur are flung about into the air. The sounds of growling and snarling fill your ears as they tumble in the snow, one on top of the other and then vice versa.

The Alpha pins Wolffe to the ground and clamps his jaw around Wolffe’s shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain.

“Wolffe!” you yell and take an automatic step towards him, forgetting Wolffe’s order not to move.

A wolf on the sidelines catches your movement and lunges towards you. You scream and fall back onto the ground. Your cry alerts Wolffe and he snaps his head up. With strength unknown to him he kicks the Alpha off of him and leaves his fight to get to your side. He snarls at the wolf and nips at his legs, causing it to retreat back to the circle. Wolffe whips around and looks into your frightened eyes. He brings his nose to your face and gives your cheek a small, gentle lick.

As sweet as the gesture may seem to Wolffe, you wish you could feel anything other than fear.  There’s blood on Wolffe’s muzzle and blood on his fur, reminding you of what he is doing.

Wolffe turns his attention back to the Alpha and barks. Liar!

The immature actions of a young pup, the Alpha says. I assure you, he will be punished severely. The Alpha glares toward the younger wolf in his ranks and bares his fangs with a low growl. The younger wolf cowers back with his ears flattened and his tail between his legs. Shall we continue?

Wolffe agrees and the fight recommences as they both tumble through the snow once again. Nipping and biting at each other’s necks, legs, bellies, and backs. Wolffe gets in a few bites, but the Alpha is much bigger and stronger, yielding better results with his bites, which leaves Wolffe’s beautiful gray fur coat marred with blood. He pauses to catch his breath and looks back at you, his strength and reason to fight. Mustering what he can, Wolffe forces himself to continue.

The yelp Wolffe makes when the Alpha sinks his fangs into his neck is unbearable. All you can do is watch and pray to the Maker that Wolffe survives this. You don’t know what started the fight, you don’t know the rules, and you don’t know what will happen to you if Wolffe dies. You shake your head at the macabre thought and focus on Wolffe surviving. You wish you could help him. You wish you could do more than watch as he lies helpless and whimpering in the snow.

Wolffe is out of breath and running out of strength. For a wolf so young, his stamina isn’t at peak performance, but for someone who rarely uses his wolf form, it’s better than he thought it would be. He lays in the snow, chest heaving as he tries to breathe. The bites sting him like fire and slow him down. He’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to last. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against a seasoned alpha. He may be the leader of the ‘Wolfpack’, but he’s no alpha.

You want to cry. You don’t know how long the fight has been going on, but you’re getting sick of it. You know you’re not supposed to move, but you can still speak. They can’t stop you from cheering him on. Whether he understands your words or not is a gamble you’re willing to take, because you can’t lose him like this. “Wolffe!” you yell. “Wolffe, get up!”

Through his pained haze, Wolffe can hear your voice calling out to him. The sweet sound of his mesh’la, warped by the fear caught in the back of your throat. He knows you’re trying to be strong for him and he finds it endearing. The need to protect you and to protect his unborn child, overrides his pain. He shifts his legs in the snow, trying to get back up, using your voice as a crutch to stand. He rocks himself onto his stomach and hoists himself up onto his shaky legs.

Will protect, Wolffe chokes out between pants as blood drips from his muzzle. Won’t lose. My mate. My pup.

The Alpha watches Wolffe carefully. His own white coat has been stained by blood. Some of it is his but most of it is from Wolffe. He finds the young alpha compelling. His protectiveness over his mate is rivaled by that of many an alpha and he admires him for his strong will. The Alpha can sense it strongly now, the spirit that resides in Wolffe. An ancient spirit from many generations before him. The one that chases the moon at night and howls with his brethren in chorus song.

The Alpha approaches Wolffe and bows. I concede to you, young alpha.

Wolffe heaves in a labored breath, his shaking legs about to buckle underneath him. He’s not sure if this is a trick, but according to the laws that govern, this means he wins.

The Alpha steps closer and Wolffe takes a cautious step back.

Your spirit, the Alpha begins to explain, it’s strong and powerful; ancient as the dancing lights that adorn the heavens. Don’t lose it.

Wolffe stares into the golden eyes of the Alpha and sees his truth. He bows to the Alpha, turns, and limps his way over to you.

You and your mate will have safe passage through our land, the Alpha exclaims to Wolffe and his own pack.

Wolffe turns back to look at the Alpha. Thank you.

And with that, the pack of wolves disappear into the trees as silently as they came. You stare with wide-eyes, then drop to the ground, your legs refusing to bear the load of your body any longer. You don’t know if you should cry, scream, or laugh. Regardless, you and Wolffe are safe, at least you hope you're safe. You startle for a moment when you feel Wolffe’s nose touch you. You look into his tired eyes, trying to read them as best as you can, but you understand nothing.

“Can you turn back?” you ask. “To a human?”

Too weak, he answers, but his voice won’t reach your ears.

You sigh when you get no response. With no way to communicate with Wolffe, you’re not sure what to do. You don’t know where you are and with no comms to contact the battalion, you’re on your own. You stretch out your hand to pet Wolffe’s head, but you recoil it when you get too close, scared he might not be who you think he is. Wolffe sees your hesitation and lifts his head into the palm of your hand, nuzzling it for comfort. You smile and scratch behind his ears.

Overcome with the emotion you are holding in, you throw your arms around Wolffe’s neck and bury your face in his soft fur. “You saved us. Thank you.”

Wolffe wants to melt into your embrace, but a snowflake landing on his nose reminds him of the other situation. Wolffe pulls out of your arms and starts pushing at his armor with his nose, piling it together. You tilt your head at his actions, but when you see the snow start to fall again, you get the idea. You stack Wolffe’s armor neatly and wrap a cord around it so you can tie it to your pack. Wolffe grabs his bag between his teeth and you grab yours, slinging it onto your back.

Wolffe starts limping forward and you walk closely behind him, following his lead through the forest. If anyone can get you home, it’s Wolffe. You soon reach the end of the forest and stare out into the wide advance of nothingness. The snow falls harder and the wind begins to howl. You shiver as the cold air breaches your layers of clothing. Wolffe turns around and stands behind you. He noses at his bucket tied to your pack and you wonder what he wants.

You put your pack down and carefully remove his bucket from the neatly tied package of armor, then hand it to Wolffe, unsure of what he could possibly want with it in that form. It’s not as if it will fit on his head.

If Wolffe could roll his eyes, he would, but instead he pushes his nose against the bucket so it goes back towards you.

You sigh and shake your head, still unsure of what he wants you to do with it.

Put it on! Wolffe growls as he drops his pack from his mouth.

His sudden outburst startles you. “I don’t know what you want me to do!” you snap at him.

Wolffe tries to calm himself. The language barrier is grating on him, so he takes the bucket in his mouth and places his front paws on your knees to gain some height, then haphazardly drops the bucket on top of your head. It sits crooked and looks funny from Wolffe’s vantage point, but it should get the point across.

“Oh,” you realize. “You want me to wear it.”

Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand as an affirmation.

You situate his bucket on your head, but it’s too big on you and bobbles around. You think you look ridiculous, but if this is what Wolffe wants then this is what you’re going to do. It’s probably to keep your face from freezing off in the cold, but it could have other uses as well and you just don’t know it.

“How do you see out of this thing?” you ask as you try to walk forward, but the HUD throws you off balance.

Wolffe can’t smile or laugh, but he snorts through his nostrils at your comment. He sees just fine out of it, but then again, it is made for him.

You watch Wolffe’s reaction to your comment and wonder. “Can you understand me?” you ask.

Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand again to answer your question.

“We can work with that,” you think out loud. “We need some way to communicate... How about for yes or no questions, touch your nose to my hand for yes and growl for no?”

Wolffe touches his nose to your hand in agreement.

“Well, that was easy,” you breathe.

Actually, none of this is easy. You're several klicks away from your battalion, out in the middle of a snowstorm with a small amount of supplies, and an injured Wolffe who seems to be stuck in a wolf’s body. At least, that’s what you gather from the fact that he is still a wolf and not a human. You don’t have any way to confirm that theory, but you can’t imagine that he would choose to stay a wolf if he had a choice. The words you speak in your mind surprise yourself and you sigh.

Wolffe can smell the storm coming and he nudges your back to push you forward, causing you to stumble.

“Hey!” you turn around and exclaim. “Just because you’re a wolf doesn’t mean you can’t have manners!”

Wolffe snorts, picks his pack back up, and limps past you.

You huff, then hoist your pack onto your back and follow after him.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been walking, but your legs are tired and your body is freezing. The blizzard began to rage not long after you left the forest, and you're both out in the thick of it without much protection. The wind whips around you and threatens to knock you over as it bites your skin through your clothing. Wolffe was smart with making you wear the helmet. There’s no way you would’ve been able to see without it and your ears would have fallen off already.

You have one hand holding the strap of your bag and the other holding onto Wolffe’s tail as he guides you forward through the storm. You don’t know where he’s leading you, but you trust him that it’s towards shelter. Well, that’s what you're hoping for anyway. He, at least, has fur and is made for this type of weather, but, you don’t have a fur coat to keep you warm and your two heavy legs sink further into the deep snow while his four lighter legs sit closer to the surface.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to start staggering, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Wolffe when his tail gets yanked. It hurts, but it’s better than losing you in the storm, so he bears it without complaint. It’s when you let go of his tail that he gets worried. He turns around and looks back to see you laying still in the snow. Panic washes over him and he limps back over to you. He knows that if you stay like this, you’ll get buried in the snow and he can’t let that happen.

Wolffe drops his pack and digs with his paws to get your head out of the snow. He pushes you with his nose to try and get you back up, but you don’t budge. He knows you’re still alive, he can hear your heartbeat, but you still won’t move. He digs around each side of your body as the snow continues to bury your limbs. He grabs onto your outer jacket with his teeth and pulls, but with the weight of the snow you're too heavy for him. He steps back to reassess the situation.

Wolffe paces beside you as he tries to think, then howls in frustration towards the gray sky. Get up, cyare, Wolffe pleads. Please, get up.

He noses at your face, but gets no reaction.

We’re so close, Wolffe says, trying to encourage you to keep moving, like you did for him during the fight, but his voice falls on deaf ears. You have to get up! That’s an order!

He still gets no response. Not even a stir from you.

Don’t make me do this, cyare, Wolffe growls.

He only has one option left and it makes him sick to his stomach. It’s the last thing he wants to do, and he hopes you will forgive him when this is all over, but he’ll do anything to keep you safe. To keep you both safe. He digs out your left arm that has been re-buried by the heavy falling snow and bites down hard.

You jerk at the searing pain in your arm.

The adrenaline in your body starts pumping and you're quickly awoken. You figure you must have fallen asleep since you’re laying in the snow. You look up through the HUD with half-lidded eyes and see Wolffe crouching in front of you, your arm in his mouth. He’s biting you. He’s eating you. You stare at your arm as blood begins to soak through your coat sleeve. You’re scared. Not of the storm, but of Wolffe. He has your arm in his mouth and you're afraid he’ll rip it off.

“Get off me!” you yell hoarsely, scrambling to get up out of the snow and away from him. “I’m not your dinner!”

Wolffe drops your arm before you hurt yourself. I’m sorry.

You stare at him and then your bloody arm in shock and disbelief. “You bit me!”

Regret washes over him at your reaction. I’m so sorry.

“Why?” you ask. You feel heartbroken and confused as to why Wolffe would bite you. Why he would intentionally hurt you. You don’t understand. All of those sweet promises he’s whispered in your ear during moments of passion slip away on the raging winds of the blizzard. He told you he’d never hurt you, but he did. He hurt you and you’re bleeding. “Why would you do that?”

Wolffe drops his tail between his legs and lays himself flat against the snow to seem less intimidating. He wishes he could explain, but he can’t. He never meant for you to misconstrued his intentions so far as to think he would attack you on purpose, or eat you. It’s the worst-case scenario, but he’d rather have you alive and hate him than have you dead and love him. You both need to keep moving, but he lets you settle down before making any more movements.

You lie in the snow as you let the adrenaline run its course. The snow starts to pile around you and in a moment of clarity, you understand why he bit you. If he didn’t wake you, then you would have been buried in the snow and froze to death. It doesn’t make the wound hurt any less, and you’ll never forget what it looked like to have your arm bleeding in his mouth, but you can push past your anger for the moment and move on. You can talk about it later when you’re both safe.

You make an attempt to push yourself up and out of the snow, but struggle. Wolffe gets up and places his muzzle under your other arm, trying to help lift you so you can stand. You get the picture and use him to pull yourself out of the snow. Once you’re up, you lean against Wolffe to help regain your balance before trekking on. Moving is a chore for both of you now. Between his wounds and limp and your frozen and tired body, it’s a miracle you’ve even gotten this far.

When you’re ready to get moving, you grab onto Wolffe’s tail. He picks up his pack, and once again guides you through the blizzard to shelter. It’s not much further before you see a dark shadow appear through the blinding snow. As you get closer, you see the outline of a cabin and breathe a sigh of relief. You knew Wolffe would find shelter, and you’re so thankful that he’s with you. If it weren’t for him, you’d still be back in the woods, waiting to be devoured by wolves.

You approach the cabin and Wolffe scratches at the wooden door, whining for you to open it. You pull the latch and Wolffe drops his pack and runs in before you to be sure it’s safe. The last thing you need is more danger or obnoxious critters. The cabin is dark and cold, but solid, and not too drafty. It will do just fine to wait out the rest of the blizzard. Wolffe circles back from his perimeter search and presses his nose into your hand to let you know it’s safe for you to enter.

With Wolffe’s nose-touch of approval, you pull the door shut against the merciless winds and latch it closed. You drop your pack down, pull out some glow sticks, and the small heat lamp you had in your tent. You crack the glow sticks and place them around the outer areas of the cabin to get some much needed light, then place the small heater in the middle of the room. It won’t throw enough heat for the entire cabin, but it will take the chill out of your bones for the time being.

Wolffe can see without the glow sticks, but he knows you can’t. As you settle in, he does a more thorough reconnaissance and assessment of your situation. There’s a fireplace, some chopped wood, an old table, some broken cabinets with no food in them, and a worn out rug in the middle of the floor. It’s not much, but it’s enough. More than enough, actually. Wolffe turns when he hears you strike a match to light the fireplace. The small fire casts a warm orange glow in the room.

Finally able to relax, you take Wolffe’s bucket off and place it on the table alongside his armor. You pull your coat and gloves off, and blow into your hands to warm them up. It will take a little for the fire to heat the entire cabin. You look over at Wolffe and see the blood dripping from his shoulder. You’re not sure how he’s still standing, but you need to get that wound taken care of before it becomes infected. You grab the medpack from your pack and walk over to the fire.

“Come here,” you call as you sit crisscross on the rug and pat the area next to you.

Wolffe, absolutely exhausted, slowly limps over and lies down on the carpet beside you. He places his muzzle on your left leg and you run a hand across his head. He closes his eyes. You gently move your hand down to touch the area where his shoulder is bleeding and he whines. You frown, then grab the bacta and start applying it. Wolffe kicks out his hind leg at the pain, but he stays still for you. Finally, you wrap the wound in bandages, then take care of the other bites.

Once you’re done with Wolffe’s wounds, you move onto your own. You pull the sleeve up on your left arm, and wince as the movement opens the scabs that are stuck to the fabric.

Wolffe picks his head up off your leg when he hears your pain. He looks for the source and sees the puncture marks of his teeth on your arm. His stomach drops. He gave you that wound. It’s his fault that you’re bleeding and he wishes he could fix it. If only he had the strength to change back, he could bandage your wound, instead of forcing you to do it yourself. In an effort to help, he leans forward and licks at your wound, but you recoil and reflexively whack his nose.

“Ow!” you exclaim. “That hurts!”

Wolffe whines and lowers his head to rest on the rug between his front legs. He didn’t mean to hurt you even more. He just wanted to help. I’m sorry, cyare.

You look at how sad he is and sigh. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

Wolffe remains still, but lifts his eyes to look up at you.

You meet his gaze and offer him a sad smile. You can never stay mad at Wolffe for long, even if he did bite you. Usually you like it when he bites you, but not when his teeth are as sharp as a vibro-blade. Besides, there’s no use in staying angry at him, not when he’s already saved your life three times in one day. You pat his head and give him a small scratch behind his ear, which seems to perk him up a little. “Good boy.”

Getting back to the task at hand, you apply the bacta to your wound and wrap it in a bandage. It’s not the best job you’ve ever done, but you did it with one hand, so you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Now that the wounds have been taken care of, you move onto food and water. You get up from the floor and rifle through Wolffe’s pack. You grab the canteens and rations from it, since you used your supply back in the forest, and sit back down next to Wolffe.

You reach out to hand one of the canteens to Wolffe, then stop when you remember he can’t drink out of it like a person. You sigh, stand back up, and walk over to the kitchen area past the old wooden table. There’s no food in the cabinets, but there has to be a bowl you can use, and it doesn’t take long for you to find one. You wipe it out with your shirt and bring it back to where you were sitting, then place it in front of Wolffe’s nose and pour the canteen of water into it.

Wolffe continues to lie on the floor, but picks his head up to lap at the water in the bowl. He didn’t realize how thirsty he was until the first droplets hit his tongue and he eagerly drinks the rest of the bowl, being careful not to spill any of the precious resource. When you try to refill the bowl with more water, Wolffe stops you. He doesn’t need it as much as you do, and if push comes to shove, it’s easier for him to go find water in his wolf form, than it is for you as a human.

Once you’ve had your fill of water, you open up the ration pack and toss one of the bars to Wolffe. He catches it mid-flight in his mouth and eats the entire bar in one bite. You’re a little surprised, but you’re not sure what you were expecting, considering the size of his mouth and what wolves actually eat for sustenance. You chuckle. “Well, those aren’t going to last long.”

When you try to give Wolffe another ration bar, he does the same thing he did with the canteen of water and declines it. He intentionally doesn’t catch it, and the second bar comically bounces off of his head and onto the ground. Wolffe gently picks the ration bar up in his mouth and drops it in your lap for you to eat. He can survive on the one ration bar for a while. It’s more important to him that you get your proper nutrients to help keep you and the little one healthy and safe.

You pick up the ration bar and cringe in disgust that it has some of his wolf-saliva on it. But, then again, it can’t be the worst bodily fluid of Wolffe’s you’ve ever put in your mouth, so you eat it without complaint and try not to think about it too much.

After you finish the ration bar, you and Wolffe sit in silence for a while and just listen to the crackling fire in front of you and the howling blizzard outside. It’s peaceful, in a sort of sense, and almost comforting. You look over at Wolffe and wonder if he’s fallen asleep. He has his front paws crossed with his head resting on top of them and his eyes are closed. You look back over at the fire and yawn, thinking it’s best for you to get some sleep as well. You’re exhausted.

You get up off the floor, walk over to the table, grab the blanket from your pack, and sit back down next to Wolffe. You look over at him and his eyes are open and staring at you. You shake your head at his alertness. Not much gets past him. You stretch your arms out over your head, then lay the blanket on your body. You rest your head on the hard floor, which quickly becomes uncomfortable, and you know you’ll wake up with a crick in your neck if you try to sleep like this.

You sit up and look at Wolffe, who is still watching you. “Can I…” you fidget with the edge of the blanket. “Can I lay on you?”

Wolffe picks his head up and beats his tail against the wooden floor.

You giggle at his response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Wolffe changes his position and lies out flat on his side with his legs outstretched towards the fire. He doesn’t care what position he sleeps in, because his fur works as a buffer against even the hardest of surfaces. He’ll gladly be your pillow and he’s happy to oblige you. You're still his cyare, even when he’s in his wolf form. The wolf form changes nothing about how he feels about you or his devotion and duty to protect you. He may be in a wolf’s body, but his heart is his own.

You situate yourself between Wolffe’s legs and lay your head on his side, being careful not to disturb any of the bandages. His body is warm and his fur is soft. You can feel him breathing steadily as his chest rises and falls, and the sound of his heartbeat is so similar to his human form that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s him you’re laying against. You nuzzle your cheek against Wolffe’s soft fur and let yourself drift off to sleep, safe by his side.

When you wake up, you feel a slight chill and notice the fire has died down. You need to get up to put more logs on it to stay warm, but you don’t want to move. You lazily rub your face against Wolffe, but it doesn’t feel right. There’s no fur. You pick your head up and look at Wolffe, but he’s no longer a wolf, he’s human. He’s also completely naked. Realizing that he’s going to freeze to death being exposed like that, you lay your blanket on top of him and get up to rekindle the fire.

You're glad he’s back to normal. You weren’t sure how long he was going to be a wolf, or if he was ever going to change back into the man you know, but you feel relieved now. You carefully lift the blanket to check the bandages, and you can see his injuries better now without the fur, and they look good. Nothing is infected, but the bandage on his shoulder needs to be changed. You run your fingers through his hair, then warm yourself by the fire and wait for him to wake up.

It’s not much longer before Wolffe begins to stir and shift uncomfortably on the hard wooden floor. You smile as you hear the familiar grunt he makes when he wakes up from a good night’s sleep and you bask in the sound of the deep voice you love so much. You turn from the fire to look at him, and you see him try to push himself up from the floor and onto all fours. You scoot across the rug and gently push him back down before he reopens the wound on his shoulder.

“Cyare,” Wolffe says, his voice rough with sleep. He tries to touch his nose to you, but he misses by several inches, not realizing that he’s back to his human form.

“It’s me,” you giggle.

“You can understand me?” Wolffe asks in confusion.

“You’re you again,” you explain as you grab his hand and touch it to his face. “See? No fur.”

Wolffe grunts like he has a hangover and places a hand against his throbbing head. “Must have changed back in my sleep.”

“Yeah, about that…” you say, trying to segue into the obvious.

Wolffe slowly sits up, the blanket falling down around his waist. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” you counter while sitting down next to him. “The blizzard hasn’t let up.”

Wolffe sighs. He knew this conversation was coming and he thought of several ways to explain it to you without it sounding like some bizarre folktale, but he’d rather not. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me,” you say with folded arms.

A shiver runs up Wolffe’s spine and he realizes he’s naked. “Can I have my blacks first?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” you say before getting up and grabbing the spare set of blacks Wolffe put in his pack, then returning to hand them to him. “Sorry about that.”

Wolffe chuckles and grabs his blacks from your hands. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

Wolffe quickly puts his blacks on and melts into the comfort of the tight bodysuit against his bare skin. He sits back down next to you and immediately pulls you into his lap, your back against his chest, and wraps his arms around your stomach while burrowing his face in your neck. He peppers your neck with soft kisses, making you smile. His kisses become longer, more focused, and he trails them from your neck down to your shoulder as his hands creep under your shirt.

“Wolffe,” you say knowingly.

“Hm?” he mumbles into your neck.

“You’re stalling,” you say as you remove his hands from under your shirt.

Wolffe grunts at your perceptiveness. He really thought he could make you forget by working you up, but he was dead wrong. You want to know, and he knows you well enough that you won’t let it go until you have an answer. With a heavy sigh, he stops his attack of kisses and shuffles you around in his lap so you’re facing him. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes,” you answer. “Tell me everything.”

Wolffe sighs and begins his recount of the events.

“It was near the beginning of the war. My first campaign after losing my battalion and my eye. I was at my lowest point back then.”

Your shoulders slump and eyes soften at his words.

“During the campaign I got separated from the battalion, on a world similar to this one, and I found myself cold and alone on the side of a snowy mountain, staring up at the night sky and waiting to die. Thought I was going to.”

You lean your head on his shoulder as you continue to listen.

“Then I saw these green and blue lights appear out of nowhere and dance across the black sky, right over my head. They were beautiful. As I stared up at the lights, I saw this white figure jumping down from them like it was a staircase or something. As it got closer, it kinda looked like a wolf, but it was see-through and wispy-like. I’d never seen something like that before.”

You chuckle at Wolffe’s descriptions.

“You find it funny, but I thought I was dying and seeing things. So, the wispy-wolf-looking thing came over to me, and I mean it stood right next to me, and started talking to me. It said I had a ‘strong heart’ and a ‘wise mind’, or something like that, and then it asked me if I wanted to live. I actually thought about saying no, but I ended up saying yes for whatever reason.”

You grab onto Wolffe tightly, and he rubs your back to soothe you.

“Then it spoke again and said it was an ancient wolf-spirit that travels across the night sky, waiting for someone worthy who can tether it back to the ground, or something like that. It didn’t make much sense to me, but I agreed. It was better than dying on that mountainside. Then that thing walked right inside of me and I nearly pissed myself.”

You snort.

“That was my first transformation into an actual wolf. Once I was in the wolf form, I could smell and see and sense all kinds of things. That’s how I found my way back to the battalion. The general was the only one who knew it was me, through the force I guess, and we never told anyone. It took a little to figure out how to transform back, but the wolf-spirit’s been inside me ever since.”

“You can’t get rid of it?” you ask. “Just out of curiosity.”

“Not that I know of,” Wolffe shrugs. “It’ll probably leave me when I die, and go back up into the dancing lights.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you say.

Wolffe tilts his head to the side. “It does?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer.

“So, you believe me?” Wolffe asks.

“Of course,” you say with a small laugh. “There’s no reason not to. Besides, there’s lots of things in this galaxy that we don’t know about, and wolf spirits now aren’t one of them.”

Wolffe gives you a crooked smile and places his forehead against yours. “I don’t deserve you.”

You lean into the embrace and sigh, but your happy moment is interrupted by your growling stomach.

“Hungry?” Wolffe asks.

“A little,” you answer while getting off his lap.

You walk over to the table and pull out the last package of rations from Wolffe’s pack. You open the package and put one of the bars in your mouth, then throw the other one to Wolffe. He catches it, but he doesn’t eat it.

“You can have mine,” Wolffe says.

You cross your arms. “You need to eat.”

“I can wait,” he says.

“You're injured,” you argue. “You need energy to recover.”

“I have reserves,” he retorts.

“Wolffe,” you huff. “I’m not arguing with you. Eat the bar.”

“I said, no,” he says sternly.

“Fine,” you say as you put your coat on. “Then I’ll go find you something to eat.”

Wolffe gets up from the floor and grabs your arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

You give Wolffe an incredulous look, then yank your arm back. “What is your problem all of a sudden?”

“I’ll go out and find us some food,” he says.

“You’re injured!” you exclaim. “If you transform back into a wolf, you’re going to break open your wound!”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he says.

“Well, I’m not,” you huff and start walking towards the cabin door.

Wolffe stands in front of it with his arms crossed. “You’re staying in this cabin and that’s an order.”

“Wolffe, I swear to the Maker, you can’t just pull rank on me whenever it suits you!” you exclaim.

“Too bad,” he says.

You fume and try to push past him. “Get out of my way!”

Wolffe groans. “Stop fighting me!”

“Stop telling me what to do!” you yell.

Wolffe grabs your shoulders and shakes you. “What do I have to do, huh?” he asks. “Tie you up?”

“Maybe,” you sneer.

“Why can’t you just listen to me?!” he exclaims.

“Because,” you begin, “you’re not making the best decision for the two of us!”

Wolffe’s patience snaps. “Only because I’m trying to make the best decision for the three of us!”

You pause, taken aback by his choice of words. “Three?”

Wolffe sighs and leans his head back against the door, kicking himself for saying the one thing he didn’t want to say.

“Wolffe,” you ask slowly. “What do you mean by three?”

Wolffe wipes his hand across his face and looks at your confused expression. “You’re pregnant.”

You gasp in shock. “What– How– When– How do you know that?”

Wolffe rubs the back of his neck. “It started out as more than a hunch, but when I transformed into a wolf, I knew for sure because I could hear its heartbeat.”

You place a hand on your stomach and stagger backwards, looking for a place to sit as you try to process this life-changing information.

Wolffe catches you and guides you to one of the chairs by the table. He kneels down in front of you and takes your hands in his. “I wasn’t going to say anything until you figured it out on your own. I’m sorry. It would’ve been difficult to explain.”

You stare at Wolffe, still in disbelief. “I’m pregnant?”

Wolffe nods his head. “Yeah.”

“I’m pregnant,” you say as you continue to stare at Wolffe.

Wolffe isn’t sure what to do, so he just stays still and waits for you to make the next move.

Suddenly, the lightbulb turns on in your head. “That’s why you gave me your rations and why you didn’t want me to leave.”

Wolffe lets his shoulders relax as you finally understand. “Exactly,” he sighs. “I was worried about the baby.”

You start to laugh and Wolffe raises his eyebrow in confusion. You throw your arms around Wolffe’s neck and squish yourself against him tightly. He pulls you from the chair to sit in his lap and holds you there for as long as you will let him. He rubs your back with his hands and soothes you with soft kisses along your neck.

“Will you let me take care of you now?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” you mumble.

Wolffe gives you one last big squeeze, then hoists you up to carry you over to the rug near the fire. He places you down gently on the rug and wraps you up in the blanket, then gives you a small kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Promise?” you ask.

“Promise,” he answers.

Wolffe removes his blacks, since it’s the only pair he has and he doesn’t want to ruin them, then hands them to you. “Here, they should smell like me now.”

You smile, take them from him, and breathe in his calming scent.

Wolffe leaves the cabin, making sure the door latches securely behind him, then transforms into a wolf so he can find some food. His shoulder wound still hurts, but he can walk on it without much of a limp now, which is fine for him. Even if it was broken, he would still go out and find you food. The urge to protect and provide is so much stronger now that he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re carrying his child. He would do anything to keep you both safe.

Now that you’ve settled down and have time to think, you feel bad for being angry and argumentative with Wolffe. Everything he’s done for you since he first found you in the forest has been to protect you and the baby you didn’t even know about. You can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it has been for him to keep that secret for so many weeks. You’re body hasn’t changed, so it never even occurred to you that you could be pregnant, but he knew.

You wait diligently in front of the fire for Wolffe to return, wishing you had a data-pad to distract yourself with, or even a deck of cards, or anything. Waiting in the quiet is making you fidget out of boredom, and if you’re not careful, you’ll fidget your fingernails right off your fingers. You need something busy yourself with, so you scan around the cabin to try and find inspiration. Then you realize that whatever food Wolffe brings back with him is going to need to be cooked. Bingo.

You throw Wolffe’s top blacks over your head, so you don’t have to carry the blanket around, and you walk over to the kitchen portion of the room. You go through all of the broken cabinets and drawers until you find something to cook in. You have a fire, but throwing some dead carcass on an open flame makes your stomach churn. Eventually, you find a large pan hidden away in a corner. It’s a little dusty, but it’ll do. You clean it off, then set it near the fire to preheat.

Satisfied with your preparations, you sit back down onto the rug and continue to wait for Wolffe. Your wait isn’t much longer before Wolffe returns from his hunt, but then again, without a chronometer, you can’t tell how long he’s actually been gone. The latch on the cabin door opens, then closes abruptly, and you smile while stoking the fire. You hear him take a few steps into the cabin as the floor creaks beneath his weight, but the steps are followed by a loud thud.

You whip around to see Wolffe lying on the ground, his fresh kill next to him. You rush over to check and make sure he’s still breathing, and he is. Thank the Maker. His body is cold from exposure, which makes sense, but you notice his breathing is labored and he’s sweating. You put your hand to his forehead and it’s hot. He has a fever. You curse under your breath, and check under the bandage on his shoulder. It’s red around the edges, just what you were afraid of.

“Wolffe,” you say. “I need you to get up for me.”

Wolffe groans.

“Come on,” you say while putting his arm around your shoulder. “You’re too heavy for me. I need you to help me.”

Wolffe musters what he can and you do your best to drag him over to the rug by the fire. His body is cold, and you need to warm him up so he has a chance to fight the infection. You lay him down on the rug and work to get his blacks on. It’s a struggle, and you wish he would’ve stayed in his wolf form since it came with its own fur coat, but you guess it’s better if he can talk to you. You cover him with the blanket, then focus on cleaning and redressing his shoulder.

Once you get Wolffe situated, you turn your attention to the dead creature at the door. You're not completely sure how to turn it into dinner, so you just throw it into the pan next to the fire and hope for the best. It’s better than starving, but you wish you could make it into soup to help Wolffe. You think for a moment, then get an idea. You grab snow from outside and use it to fill the pan. Then take the electrolyte package from the medpack and dump it in the pan too.

You look at your concoction brewing by the fire and narrow your eyes. “That’s going to taste awful.”

“Mesh’la,” Wolffe calls in between pants.

You turn your attention away from the pan and back to Wolffe, then scoot over to him. “I’m here.”

“Sorry,” he breathes.

You smile and wipe his forehead with your sleeve. “Don’t be. You took good care of me, of us. Now it’s my turn.”

Wolffe doesn’t respond, but you know he would if he could. What’s important now is that he gets rest.

After a little while, you check on the weird soup you’re trying to make and see that the creature is thoroughly cooked, at least, you think it’s thoroughly cooked. You taste some of the ‘broth’ and you’re not impressed, but at least it has salt and nutrients in it. You scoop up the broth into one of the bowls you found and bring it over to Wolffe. You situate yourself behind him so he can sit up against you and you can help him drink it. He fights you on it, but you eventually win.

Once you’re both fed, you throw more logs on the fire and settle in on the rug next to Wolffe. He’s shivering from his fever, so you snuggle up to him to try and keep both of you warm. It’s not ideal for you, but you know Wolffe would try to give you the blanket and his blacks if he knew you were cold, and you can’t let him do that, not when he’s sick. With Wolffe heating your back and the fire heating your front, you let your mind slow down and drift off to sleep.

The next two rotations, you guess, are similar. Wolffe’s fever continues as he fights the shoulder infection and the blizzard still rages on outside. You wonder if it’ll ever stop. The only good thing about the cold is that you can leave the leftovers outside and defrost them by the fire when you need them. Lucky for you, Wolffe brought back a decent sized creature that you’ve been able to ration out. But, the food reserves are dwindling, and neither of you will survive on nothing.

Finally, on the third rotation, you think, Wolffe’s fever breaks and his infection looks much better. He continually apologizes to you for getting sick, but he knew that if he didn’t bring back food, and he fell ill, you both would have been in trouble. You, of course, tell him not to worry about it and that you’re glad he came back safely. He saved your life, again, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Actually, he saved both you and your baby’s life, which makes you love him even more.

Not long afterwards, you both notice a silence. It’s still dark outside, but there’s a certain sound missing. The sound of the howling winds. You walk over to the cabin door, with Wolffe right behind you, and you open it to see nothing but a white ground and a black sky. The storm is over. You smile and lean back against Wolffe’s chest in relief. Now you can leave and head towards the rendezvous point to meet up with the battalion. It won’t be difficult with Wolffe leading the way.

As you stare out into the darkness, hot puffs of breath mingling into the cold night air, the sky lights up with green and blue colored streaks. Your mouth gapes and your eyes widen at the magical sight. It’s just like Wolffe described, dancing lights in the night sky. Wolffe wraps an arm around you and pulls you close against him and smiles. He’s happy you get to see them too. Then he hears the spirit within him howl towards the dancing lights above and he feels complete.

Masterlist

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[221bshrlocked]

desire for obedience

Pairings: Commander Wolffe x Jedi Fem!Reader

Words: 5656

Warnings: Angsty Smut. Semi-Public but Consensual Sex. Some Dirty Talk. Rough Manhandling/Sex. Clothed Male Naked Female. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (Wrap the Shlong before you King Kong my Dudes). Slight Breeding Kink. Creampie. Implied Squirting. Indirect Love Confessions. 79′s shenanigans. 

Summary: You risk your life to save Wolffe and Boost’s. Wolffe doesn’t appreciate you disobeying his orders. Things escalate at 79′s...

A/N: I was minding my own business writing a oneshot involving a threesome with Crosshair and Mayday when this suddenly happened so here you go. I am not okay after that Bad Batch episode so naturally I am writing smut to make myself feel better. Enjoy my lovely Clone lovers and let me know how I’m doing in the comments please and thank you. You can add yourself to the taglist here if you like.

If it had been any other day, you would have brushed aside the flare of anger heating all around you, chalking it up for the particularly extraneous mission you and your battalion had just returned from. But the last rotation brought about many revelations, one of which involved the Clone Commander currently staring daggers into your very soul. You avoided him as much as you can, and from the looks of it, he noticed your tactics and was getting extremely tired of them. 

When you look up at him again through the multitude of white armor surrounding the two of you, you find his eyes narrowed dangerously at you, jaws clenched tightly as he realizes that you were very much aware of why he was fuming at you. A question breaks your attention away from him, and you turn to the trooper beside you, pretending to laugh at whatever anecdote he just said to avoid the tempest threatening to take you over. 

You know why he’s behaving this way, and as much as you hate to admit it, he had every right to feel this way. But you couldn’t tell him that, mostly because you didn’t want to hear how disappointed he was with your decision or how right he was that you weren’t ready for your position. 

You continue nodding at the trooper, completely oblivious to the slow approach of the man you’ve been avoiding for the better half of the day. 

“Good evening Commander,” the words snap you back to reality and you look up in time to see Wolffe’s unwavering gaze threatening to bring you to your knees. 

“This next round is on me boys,” you blurt out immediately, avoiding any and all contact with Wolffe’s rather dangerous eyes as you take a step back from the group. “Order anything you want and p-put it on my tab.” You manage to breathe out before you turn around and head towards the refreshers, praying to the maker that 79’s wasn’t seeing too much action in the back tonight. 

You barely manage to move past the dancing crowd, keeping your hand firmly placed on your lightsaber in an attempt to calm yourself. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that Wolffe had every intention to shoot you with his blaster the second he walked up to your group. Slamming the door open, you head towards one of the sinks and turn on the cold water, splashing your face several times and dragging the water down your neck in an attempt to calm down. 

Not a second later, the door opens quietly, making you sigh heavily as you look for anything to wipe your face. You hope that the occupant behind you doesn’t try to ask you if everything is okay because you aren’t sure how you can manage to respond to that question. It’s eerily quiet as you pat your face down with the edge of your robes, and when you don’t hear any movement towards one of the stalls, you look up into the mirror and feel a wave of cold ice wash over you. 

Gulping down the anxiety threatening to make itself apparent in the form of a stream of tears, you turn around slowly and watch as Wolffe tilts his head to the side and continues to stare into your eyes. You say nothing, unsure of what or how you were supposed to get yourself out of this sticky situation. 

Then he locks the door and taps on it twice, and you know you’re in for it. 

“Wol- um, Commander. H-how may I be of service?” You hate the way your entire body shakes whenever you’re in his presence, even more so now as he slowly approaches you, the look of a predator clear and visible on his features. 

You had always wondered why he was named Wolffe, but as his jaw tenses, the veins on his neck straining from how harsh he’s biting down, pronouncing the nearly homicidal look brewing in his eyes, you finally understand how he came about his name. 

Maker, he looked positively frightening. 

It aroused you to no end. 

“I’m only going to ask this once, and you better have a damn good answer.” His voice is menacing, and you swear you hear a growl emit from deep within his chest as he speaks, as if he was embodying the spirit of the animal he was named after. 

“Yes Commander?” You pray that your nervousness calms him a little, maybe prove to him that the last thing you intended to do was get on his nerves. When he says nothing and continues to walk towards you, you can’t help but back up, and as soon as your back hits the cold tile wall, you feel your heart skip a beat at the prospect of being at his mercy. 

He had finally cornered you, like a prey, and the only thing left for you to do was to follow his lead and ensure that he understood who was in charge here. 

Wolffe’s eyes never once leave your own, and you will yourself to continue breathing so you don’t pass out from the intensity of his gaze. He says nothing for what you deem as too long, and only when he’s a foot away from you does he finally break the terrifying silence that has washed over the room. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

You immediately know what his question is in reference to, and you know for a fact that playing dumb would do you no good, especially now that he had you at his mercy. You look back and forth in between his eyes, the scar adorning his right eye appearing much more threatening this up close. You part your lips to try and answer his question, but nothing comes to mind, nothing that would satiate the Force signature completely engulfing you in this instance. 

“I- I was just…”

“Disobeying orders?” He cuts you off, taking one more step towards you until you are completely overwhelmed by him. You want to scream at him, push him aside and remind him that you were the General and he was the Commander, that you outranked him and didn’t have to listen to anything he said. But the two of you would know that you’re lying, because up until now, you had seldom made him feel like he was inferior to you. When it came to the battlefield, Commander Wolffe was among the best of the best, with his experience, his tactical intelligence, and his sheer will to ensure the safety of those around him. 

Which is how you found yourself in this mess. 

You had disobeyed a direct order, went after him and Boost when he told you to leave the two of them and accompany the rest of the battalion. You had never seen someone so furious before, and you ignored everything he spewed at you as you single-handedly fought through hundreds of battle droids to get to the two of them. 

Looking into his eyes now, you’re also reminded of the small flicker of hope that broke through the violent rage of his Force signature when he saw you approaching him and Boost. It was that little flame that led you to him and his brother, the same one you could feel slowly heating within his chest now. 

You got the sense that it wasn’t just hope for being saved, but something else entirely, something you prayed for every day and night as you accompanied the Wolfpack on every mission that Master Plo Koon couldn’t go on. 

“Wolffe, I-” before you can try to come up with a response that wouldn’t get you in more trouble, Wolffe takes the last step towards you, slamming both of his arms on either side of your head and caging you in, until the only thing you could see was him. 

“What were you thinking?” He asks once more, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think his question wasn’t about the events of the morning today, but something else entirely.

You swallow down your nerves, knowing that the sentiment about to form on your lips would shift the dynamics between the two of you. 

“I was thinking of you.” 

The reality of the meaning behind your words hits Wolffe almost as soon as you’ve come to accept them yourself. His eyes widen in shock, and you feel his Force signature simmer down soon after, allowing you to say the next confession with ease. 

“I’m- I’m always thinking of you.”

Again, the Clone Commander stands there in a state of surprise and disbelief. You think perhaps that you shouldn’t have revealed to him the reason behind your actions, and before you can apologize for the bold response, you sense a dramatic spike in his Force signature, one that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Fuck.” He breathes the word with such heartache that you don’t registers what’s happening until you feel the wind get knocked out of you. 

Wolffe lunges at you with a growl, and you part your lips in surprise as soon as you feel his lips dominate your mouth. You allow a few seconds to pass by, mostly so you can be certain you weren’t imagining this and that the call of your name wouldn’t wake you from your sleep and ruin this moment. When he wraps his hand around your throat and pushes you harder into the wall with his body, you know this wasn’t another dream. 

Slowly shutting your eyes, you surrender to the war the Commander was waging on your body, and as you try to wrap your arms around his shoulders, he lets go of your neck and grabs both of your wrists, slamming them harshly against the cold, solid wall above your head before grasping them in one, rather aggressive hold. You sigh into him, melting against the dominance of his touch as his palm returns to your jugular and softly increases the pressure around your neck. 

You tilt your head to the side to allow him more access, and it must be what he wants from you because he deepens the kiss instantly, shoving his tongue inside your mouth until the only thing you can taste is the faint flavor of the bitter whiskey he was drinking earlier. 

But before you can enjoy him, Wolffe pulls away and stares down at you, looking back and forth between your eyes in search of something, of what you’re unsure. You say nothing, whimpering against him as he chokes you harder and pushes the length of his body into your own. 

“You shouldn’t have said that.” His voice is hoarse, engulfing you in a state of unadulterated desire, something you were sure he was unintentionally transferring onto you the longer he kept you in his arms. It’s not that you didn’t feel the same, far from it. It just felt strange to finally sense him so deeply, as if he has kept his emotions bottled up for so long and could no longer hold back now that you voiced your mutual desire for him.

“Wolffe, please.” you moan his name as you throw your head back and enjoy the devastation he was bringing upon your body. 

It must be all he needs to hear because in the blink of an eye, Wolffe is dragging you away from the wall towards the sinks again. He turns around roughly, and you tremble at his handling of you, only to look up and see the way he’s staring at you through the mirror. Before you can say anything, ask him what he was planning on doing with you, you hear the loud sound of plastoid armor hitting the ground. You gulp loudly as you feel his palm across your back, pushing you down slowly until you are bent over the sink, both hands holding onto the steel supporting your body.

“I’m going to fuck you, mesh’la. I’m going to fuck you hard, and mark you up so everyone can know.” The promise he delivers makes you shake with need, and you don’t dare blink away from him, afraid you’d miss the way his handsome features shift with each strike of pleasure he lands on you. Without missing a beat, Wolffe takes hold of your robes and pulls them off of your body, throwing them on the opposite sink before unclipping your lightsaber from your belt. You’re about to ask him to be careful with handling it but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything, instead hanging it on his own belt carefully to avoid any harm to it. 

You’re not sure why, but the sight of your weapon, a tool that you’ve spent your entire life forming a connection to, hanging around his belt makes you wet, and you stare at its reflection as he moves closer to you, watching as it swings back and forth while he undresses you completely. 

“Don’t you dare look away from me.” Wolffe warns, the growled command pulling your gaze back to his in the mirror and making you wish you weren’t at 79’s but somewhere more private. You nod instantly, wanting him to know that you didn’t mean to shift your attention elsewhere. When he’s satisfied with your response, he reaches around and unzips your pants, dragging them down quickly before taking hold of the hem of your shirt and tugging it up your body. You help him take the offending object off of your person, and watch with fascination as he throws it above your robes before stepping back to look at you. 

You’re nearly naked, and as you look at his reflection, you can’t help the rush of excitement that rakes over your body when you notice the feral, hungry look he was giving you now, as if he’s wanted this for so long and couldn’t believe his eyes. You try to raise yourself a little, but the small movement snaps Wolffe out of his haze, making him return to your space and push you down again. You brace yourself against the mirror, both hands dragging against the shiny, cool surface slowly beginning to fog over from the damp air filling the small room. 

“Look at you, waiting for my next order.” He taunts you then, dragging his fingers up and down the side of your body before bringing his still-clothed chest against your back. The armor is harsh and cold against your heated skin, but you don’t care, knowing that whatever he was planning on doing to you would make you forget very quickly the discomfort of the plastoid. 

“Wolffe.”

“That’s Commander Wolffe to you, mesh’la.” He leans over and whispers in your ears as he reaches around with one hand and cups your breasts. You shut your eyes to relish in the warm touch of his hand, only to open them in shock when he lands a particularly hard slap to your lower thighs not a second after. 

“I thought I told you not to look away from me.” Wolffe growls again, and as you’re about to apologize, he leans over and bites into your neck, chuckling to himself when you moan his name lewdly and arch your back against him. He soothes over the bite with his tongue, kissing along your neck and down to your shoulder as he looks up and sees you staring at him. 

“Maybe you can be obedient after all.” There is a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you nod at him, wanting him to know that you would whatever he says, even if it were at your expense. 

Thinking he would drag this out, you lean down a little more until you can feel the edge of the sink dig into your hips.

“I’m going to fuck you General, until this whole bar knows who’s making you scream.” He says as he lets go of you and palms his cock through the blacks beneath his armor. You want to look at him, and you get the sense that he is daring you to shift your focus from his eyes to his hands, but you don’t give into the temptation, instead biting into your lower lip and doubling down on the eye contact. 

“Please Commander!” You plead for him, no longer caring on whether you sound pathetic or not, and it must please Wolffe greatly, the use of the honorific and the wanton tone of your voice, because he lowers his blacks down far enough to free his cock and spits on his hand before covering himself with the wet palm of his hand. 

“You’re going to leave tonight with my cum trailing down your thighs, General. And if you can be an obedient little sweetheart for me, I’ll make sure you cum too.” Wolffe groans against your ears, making you whine his name over and over again as you feel his hand moving behind you. You want to beg him to end your misery, take what he wants from you and mark you up however he wants, but the only thing that manages to escape your throat is a long sigh in the form of a desperate plea. 

When you feel his fingers push your panties to the side, you brace yourself for the onslaught he would soon deliver to your body. Then he pushes his cock against your wet folds, and you realize that this may hurt more than you initially thought. 

Fuck, you couldn’t wait for that sweet burn. 

You part your lips to tell him exactly that, only to watch as Wolffe stares into your eyes while he pushes his dick into your cunt, not bothering to slow down until he is fully sheathed inside you. He’s larger than you imagined, thicker and warmer too, and you nearly close your eyes to commit this feeling to memory, only to feel a hand grab your neck and push down on it until your gaze is wide open. 

“Keep those pretty eyes on me. I w-want you to watch me as I fuck you, General.” His voice falters briefly, making your heart threaten to leap out of your chest at the prospect of having a similar effect on him as he was having on you. He wraps his other arm around your chest, keeping you flush against him with his unwavering hold on your body. 

“I want you to watch me as I teach your body how to take me…how to pleasure me…how to make me cum.” He breathes heavily against you, barely pulling out before snapping his hips back against you. You cry out his name into the night air, fogging up the mirror further as he quickly sets a pace that makes you see stars. You have no control over your reaction to him, nor to the way he seems to coax pleasure from your body. With each drag of his thick cock against your tight walls, you remember the sliver of hope he offered you all those hours ago, one that was similar in nature to the look he was giving you now. 

“Fuck…I’m going teach you how to be obedient, even- kriff, even if it’s the last thing I do.” His words become less dangerous and more affectionate, and it finally settles in why he’s been so angry with you ever since you saved him and his brother. 

He truly thought you were of more value than him. 

The idea that Wolffe sees himself this way brings tears to your eyes, and you don’t have time to dwell on anything but this sad sentiment before you’re openly crying in his arms. 

Wolffe is too far gone to notice when you start crying, constantly biting into your flesh to prevent himself from dragging you to the ground and mounting you like an animal. He fucks you harder, thrusting his hips against you the more you clench around him and bring him closer to the edge. It’s only when you sob that he realizes you’re practically breaking down in his arms, and he stops instantly, letting go of your neck and almost pulling out of you. 

Then your hand snaps to his wrist and pulls it back to your neck, and Wolffe is unsure of what he’s meant to do. You shake your head at him, quickly wiping away the tears with the back of your arm before returning your hands to the mirror in front of you.

“Please, make me yours.” You hope he understands what you’re trying to say because you’re not sure if your mind will manage to come up with another coherent sentence if he asked you to elaborate. He stares at you for a while, gauging your reaction to his touches as he massages your back and your sides, studying you to be certain of your desires for him. When he finds your gaze unwavering, the beautiful pout on your lips begging for his lips, he slowly drags his hand down your body until they reach the back of your thighs. 

With immense ease, he takes hold of your thigh and pushes it higher, until you’re resting your knee against the sink as well. Your entire upper body is bent now, nearly pushing against the mirror, and Wolffe clenches his jaw tightly before he leans into your space once more, sending his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. 

“Sir, yes sir.” He whispers his response as he widens his stance and grabs both of your hips, fucking up into you with harsh, deep thrusts until you could no longer keep your voice down. 

You somehow manage to keep your eyes on him through the mirror, wanting to give him whatever he wants so he could keep fucking you. There’s a rush of vulnerability that fills your lungs, and you realize it’s a mixture of both of your feelings when you notice the way Wolffe’s features shift from anger to hurt. 

If he knows you understand why he’s behaving this way, he mentions nothing of it, instead choosing to shove his cock harder into you until the only thing you can focus on is the perfect way he continues to fill you with his dick. You can feel every twitch and every vein on his cock dragging deliciously across your tight, wet walls and consistently hitting that small spot that makes you scream in sheer agony. 

“Mine. You’re fucking mine, mesh’la. You hear that?” Wolffe asks, not really expecting you to respond to his question. 

“Yes, ‘m yours…‘m all yours Commander.” You cry in ecstasy as he tightens his hold around your waist, surely leaving bruises there for you to trace in the days to come. 

“My perfect fucking Jetii’ika, taking my cock like a good girl.” He manages to return his gaze to you now, knowing that he hasn’t imagined you telling him that you were his.

“Fuck…ahh fuck, are you close? Please cyar’ika, tell me you’re close. Tell me you’re going to cum on my cock.” Gone is the menacing, commanding Clone Commander, and you rest your forehead on the mirror briefly before you pull away and look into his eyes again. 

“Not- not until you cum first.” You respond with a whimper, the raw emotion behind your words sending Wolffe into a state of shameless craving, a need to make you belong to him. He leans over you, wincing lightly when you hiss at the cold, plastoid of his armor as it digs into your skin. Wrapping his arm around your body and neck one last time, he turns your head to the side until your lips are near his own, and without wasting another second, he kisses the corner of your lips and whispers one last order for you to follow. 

“Cum for me General, cum for your Commander.” 

“Yes sir.” 

He molds his lips with your own as soon as you respond, swallowing down your moans of pleasure as he pushes his cock one last time into your cunt and fills you with his seed. You shake violently in his arms as you feel the heat of his cum rush into you, painting your walls with hot strings of his pleasure just as he reaches down and flicks your clit with his fingers. You nearly topple over, but Wolffe doesn’t give you a chance to part from him, shifting your neck so he can keep kissing you while he pulls an orgasm out of your abused body. He grunts and bites into your lower lip, grinding his hips against you until you’ve milked him dry, but he doesn’t stop there, continuing to rub your oversensitive clit until you force his cock out of your cunt and fall into blinding pleasure. You break from him then, falling against the mirror as he doesn’t slow down and elongates your climax. Only when you scream and plead for him to stop does he finally remove his hand from your wet folds, resting his entire weight on top of your own as he mirrors your actions and attempts to catch his breath. 

Neither of you say anything for a while, and even though Wolffe had just fucked you within an inch of your life, you can’t find it in yourself to look him in the eyes, the previous shyness you’ve held whenever he’s around returning a thousandfold. 

Once again, Wolffe mistakes your timidity for fear, and he loosens the hold he has on your neck instantly, rubbing your skin to soothe away whatever he’s done to you. You can feel his Force signature shift once again, and you’d tell him later that, for someone who prided himself in keeping his emotions under check, he wore his heart on his sleeves. 

“I’m okay Wolffe, I swear.” You whisper into the silent air between the two of you, waiting until he begins to touch you again with more familiarity before speaking again. 

“I didn’t know, but…I’m not sorry for what I did.” 

It’s probably not what he expects to hear from you, and the reluctant demeanor turns into fiery irritation once again when you meet his eyes through the mirror and he sees that you meant your words. 

“How could you say that?” He asks, not knowing how else he should respond to your confession. 

“Because the thought of you dying scares me to death, and…and I will never value my life more important than your own.” You tell him, matter of factly, hoping that he wouldn’t question your feelings any further. 

“You can’t think like that, General.” Wolffe frowns, sighing heavily as he takes a few steps back and rests against one of the stalls. You mirror his expression and slowly lower your leg to the floor, wincing slightly when a sharp pain shoots across your body and nearly forces you to the ground. 

Wolffe is right behind you in an instant, wrapping his arms around you and turning you around slowly in his arms before pushing you up to sit on the sink. He begins to move away, already regretting everything he’s just done now that he knows how much he hurt you. You don’t let him get too far though, dragging him by his wrist until his arms were framing your body once more. 

“You’re not being fair Wolffe. You- you can’t expect me to not fear for your life the way you do mine. I- I can’t think less of you…I won’t. You have to understand that.” You cup his neck until he looks at you, and it takes too long for his Force signature to finally ebb down again. Only then do you feel confident enough to lean into him and take his lips in a chaste kiss, one that doesn’t remain soft for too long because in the blink of an eye, Wolffe is hugging you tightly and bringing you flush against him. You spend the next few minutes stealing each others’ breath away, and when you’re satisfied enough with his recognition of your emotions, you let go of him and fall back to rest against the mirror. 

A moment later, Wolffe begins to chuckle and digs his nails into your skin as he explores your body. You wipe the sweat from your forehead and watch as he takes in your nearly nude form. There’s a sentiment forming on your lips, one that you knew would shift your relationship with him further, but you get the sense that it wouldn’t be the right time to say it now, mostly because of what it would entail should he say it in return. 

“Looks like we still have to work on your obedience, sweetheart.” You know he’s joking, but the way he looks at you now lets you know that there was some truth behind those words. 

“Whatever you say Commander.” You try to shift closer to him but Wolffe distracts you with a rough swipe of his fingers against the mess in between your thighs. Before you can ask him to slow down, Wolffe grips the edge of your panties tightly and rips them from your body, leaving you as shocked and embarrassed as when he first walked into the refresher. 

“What- how am I supposed to leave now?” You ask, only to cease to breathe when he brings the ruined material to his nose and takes a long whiff of your mixed scents. 

“With all due respect sir, I never promised you’ll be leaving with your dignity tonight.” He laughs as he shoves the fabric into his pocket and puts his slowly hardening cock back into his blacks. You watch as he reaches for the codpiece and latches it onto his armor again, moving to the side to fix his hair and right himself before he hands you your clothes. 

He’s as good as new in the span of a few minutes, and you hate how ruined you look when you jump off the sink and turn around to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a mess, and your neck is littered with love bites, ones you knew would be visible even when you wore all of your robes. 

Pulling your pants back up, you shift uncomfortably when you feel Wolffe’s cum slide down your thighs and make an even bigger mess inside your pants. You shake your head when you glance to the side and watch Wolffe eye you down hungrily, as if he hasn’t just fucked your brains out. 

“I’ll have you know, I could write you up for insubordination…Commander.” You tease him as he hands you your shirt with feigned innocence, all the while dragging his eyes across your body until your skin erupts with goosebumps. You fix yourself to the best of your abilities, throwing your outer robes slightly higher around your neck so no one outside knows what you just did.

Assuming they didn’t hear you scream his name a thousand times already. 

“That’s a little inaccurate, sir.” Wolffe remarks as he unhooks your lightsaber from around his belt and stands behind you again, not moving a muscle until you rest your head against his shoulder and surrender to the sensation of his lips around your neck again. 

“Oh yeah, h-how so?” 

Wolffe chuckles, and you can almost feel the smirk on his handsome features as he continues to shower your flushed skin with kisses. 

“I wasn’t the insubordinate one here…General.” Whereas you heard the growl before, you can feel it rumble against your back now, and you thank the maker that he was standing behind you because you’re sure you would have fallen to your knees if he wasn’t. 

“Hmm.” 

“If you really want to write me up for insubordination, sir…perhaps we can take this somewhere else.” Wolffe traces the length of your neck with his tongue, bringing his arms around your body and cupping both of your breasts in his larger hands to pull you closer to him. 

“And where- oh Force help me, where do you recommend we g-go?” You arch your back into him, throwing your hands back and tugging on his curly locks while he continues to teach your body how to recognize his touch. 

“Well, we can go back to yours…not much privacy though.” 

“No…not- not enough privacy.” You repeat his words, shivering with embarrassment when he laughs at how easily he has you wrapped around his fingers. 

“Or, we can go back to mine.” Wolffe suggests, sucking another red mark on the skin just below your jaw, not caring for how hard it will be to cover up. 

“But…but what if the boys are there?” Your mind is coherent enough to understand the dangers behind getting caught, but your question only makes Wolffe harder, the prospect of his men seeing you beneath him as he fucked you into kingdom come making him wish he didn’t have such nasty thoughts of you. 

“I’m a Commander, cyar’ika. I get to have my own quarters…besides, if I tell the boys they saw nothing, then they saw nothing.” He shrugs his shoulders when you open your eyes and look at his reflection in the mirror. This up close, Wolffe looks more relaxed and content, perhaps even a little younger. You can’t believe how different he appears now, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, mostly because of how delicious those whispered promises sounded to your ears.

“You’re wrong, Wolffe.” You respond to him and watch as his eyebrows furrow at your words. Before he can misunderstand you, you turn around and throw your arms around his shoulders, leaning up on your tiptoes until the two of you are breathing the same air. 

“You’re not just a Commander, you’re my Commander.” 

The smile Wolffe graces you with will be etched in your mind until the end of the universe, and he hums at you approvingle before grabbing your neck and sealing the night in another heated kiss. 

“Damn right I am.”

Tagging who showed interest in my other Wolffe fic: @mrs-ghuleh @mandoleksiak @verdandis-blog @reaperofmen  @sjva03 @thefact0rygirl @2amandstillawake21 @ktrivia @zombiesnips-blog  @lackofhonor @ner-runi @whore4rex @spaceh0m0 @why-not-movies @yoonloml @where-is-my-mind-tho @okdeedee @clone-simp-99 @lonely-day3636 @cautionhotmess @frogunderarock @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​ @knightprincess @artemis-rex @raccoonsaregay​ @prozacspice​ @r2d2staser​ @marierg​ @2amandstillawake21​ 

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe/reader #commander wolffe x reader #wolffe/reader #wolffe x reader #cc 3636 #star wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #commander wolffe smut #wolffe smut #clone smut #commander wolffe x f!reader #commander wolffe x fem!reader #clone/jedi fanfiction #clone/jedi smut

[coffeeandbatboys]

Saw the last call post, and I swear I had a mini heart attack haha. Anyways! I would love to see a fic with: Wolffe, 3, and middle lovey emoji face (because I don't have an emoji keyboard). Thank you! I always love your work, so I know it'll be amazing! I might spam your inbox with a few more requests if you don't mind multiple requests from the same person.

Oh, this one is perfect, I repeat; FUCKING PERFECT for Wolffe.

Prompt: Holding and cradling their face to study it, perhaps noticing something new. Something else to love.

Come What May (Wolffe x Reader)

Wolffe ran a hand over his cybernetic eye. You could tell that he was trying to turn it away from you, but you figured you’d give it some time for him to come around.

But after a few nights of him doing this, you’d had enough.

“Wolffe.” You whispered, tilting his chin to face you.

He closed his eyes.

“Why don’t you hate it?”

You frowned.

“Why would I hate it?”

He opened his eyes again. Tears sparkled on his waterline.

"You deserve so much more than this," He choked. "If I didn't come home to you one day....I can't hurt you like that."

Your heart dropped to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. You shifted yourself to sit in his lap as you cradled his face ever so gently with your hands.

"Then you will have departed as the most adored and loved man in the galaxy. You're not getting rid of me like that, Wolffe. I love you, and that will never change. And this?"

You began to press feather-light kisses to the scar over his eye, only pausing to finish your reassurances. "—is the most beautiful thing I have seen in my life." You whispered, returning your lips to his bronzed skin.

His arms wound around your back and pulled you flush against his chest. His face buried into the crook of your neck and you continued your kisses down his cheek and finally to his lips.

"The measure of a man is within his heart. And I firmly believe that yours is made of gold. That's why I love you, Wolffe." You murmered in between kisses.

Tears finally spilled over and he kissed you back. "I love you too, Mesh'la."

"Hey," you pulled back yo hold his face again. "I'm serious. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

He nodded and pressed his forehead to yours.

"Come what may, love." You whispered. "Come what may."

#star wars #coffee’s 270 follower celebration #commander wolffe x reader #star wars wolffe #clone wars wolffe #wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x you #Commander Wolffe x fem!reader #wolffe x fem!reader #Wolffe x reader

[rexxdjarin]

No Shame

Commander Wolffe x F!Reader One Shot

Summary: Based on the above song - You and Wolffe have been FWB for quite some time and although you want it to be something more, there's no way he would ever want that with someone like you. Right? Word Count: 7k Chapter Warnings: MINORS DO NOT INTERACT. 18+ RATING, angst, FWB to lovers?, dom!Wolffe (is there any other kind lol?), p in v sex, fingering, light bdsm themes and spanking (if ya squint), self-esteem issues, self-doubt, hurt/comfort, very mild arguing Notes: this is loosely based on themes of this song (or rather what I imagine a happy ending to be like bc I refuse to write shit that ends sad haha)

[crossposted on ao3]

Commander Wolffe was always far better than any other partner you’ve ever had. He was so good. Too good for you. His interest in sleeping with you often scared you. Because you knew you loved him and sleeping with him was only making that affection deepen. But you were filled with self-doubt. Denying your own worth against quite literally the perfect man. You weren’t a carefully engineered genetically ideal human. You were just you. Average men didn’t even like you. His interest in you didn’t make sense. Someone as perfect as him could never love you. No matter how much you wished he could.

You filled your life with men you thought you deserved. Men who could never measure up to him. Men who couldn’t even call themselves men by comparison to him. You were inferior. You knew it. He’d be ashamed of you. Ashamed to be seen with you. The fact that he even wanted to sleep with you at all was just because you were easy and accessible. That’s what you told yourself. You wouldn’t bother wasting his time by asking him to do all the relationship stuff you wanted. He’d probably laugh at you.

You tried to cut it off before you hurt yourself. Before you loved him so much it would kill you to ever see him walk away in disgust. But you couldn’t stop yourself. Every time you swore it would be the last, you found yourself comming him, begging him to find you and fuck you like only he could. You felt pathetic needing someone, who didn’t think of you for even a second, so badly that it hurt. So you decided you’d look elsewhere for the relationship you wanted, even if they were far less than everything Wolffe was.

Tonight you walked through the doors of 79s with your date and saw him sitting at his booth with all his men, clutching his drink in one hand and staring up at the waitress with a warm smile, an actual fucking smile, on his face. Finally, something in you just snapped. He didn’t want you. He really didn’t. He could look at anyone, no, everyone else the way you wished he’d look at you.

Your date stood beside you, not even noticing you as you seethed in anger beside him. He was too busy eyeing several of the twi’lek waitresses to notice. If you actually cared about him, you’d be as angry at him as you were at Wolffe, who wasn’t even yours. He would never want to be yours. As if pulled your direction by gravity itself, Wolffe turned and looked directly at you.

The familiar darkness you knew all too well wiped whatever warm friendliness you’d just seen right off his face. His brow furrowed in anger and his eyes narrowed, looking you up and down with the disgust you knew he’d felt for you. You’d never brought dates here before, but in order to move past him you’d have to show him you didn’t need him anymore. Even though everything inside you was screaming that you did.

You stood by the bar watching Wolffe stand up like he was going to walk toward you, only for him to turn and enter one of the freshers in the back. You excused yourself from your date to use the fresher and followed into the one Wolffe had just entered. You pushed open the door to find him leaned up against the wall scowling at you.

“You know I don’t appreciate you coming to my bar parading around some other pathetic excuse for a lifeform you’re dating. It’s insulting.” He spat, his voice low and his brooding expression dangerous. He took up all the space in the entryway, his broad shoulders caging you in against the door you’d just locked behind you.

“Your bar? Since when do you own 79s? It’s Republic property.” You argued, trying your best to stand up to him without breaking down already. Looking at his perfect face was hard enough from across the bar, but it was even more painful just an arm’s length away.

“I am Republic property.” He scoffed sarcastically, stepping close enough to you to press his puffed up chest into yours. He slammed his hand on the door just beside your head and smirked at you. “You’re not going back out there to that lowlife. I won’t let you.” He muttered, the slightest hint of desperation littering his tone. But that was probably in your head.

“You don’t get to tell me what I can and can’t do, Wolffe. Haven’t you already taken enough from me?” You practically whimpered, turning your face from him as you felt tears well up. His face was only inches from yours and you could feel what felt like his glaringly angry stare burning a hole right through you. 

“What? You’re the one that calls me. You’re the one begging me to come over. You’re the one pushing me away.” His voice was escalating and he stepped back, lowering and unclenching his fists, giving you space as you flinched at his every word. He was right. That’s exactly what you were doing. Keeping him away from you so that when he finally realized he could do better, that he deserved better, it wouldn’t devastate you so much. 

And yet, as you crumbled against the fresher wall, you realized it didn’t matter. Knowing him at all had already devastated you anyways. He was too good for you. You didn’t deserve him. He should be fucking ashamed that he’d stooped low enough to be with you.

“Not enough.” You whispered, finally finding the courage within you to admit to him how you felt about this arrangement and yourself. You were never going to be enough for him. He might as well leave you here now. Save himself the humiliation. 

“You’ve made that pretty fucking clear. It’s never enough. Nothing I do, nothing I am…is ever good enough for you.” His shoulders sagged and he looked at you pitifully, an expression the big, rough Commander had never shown you in all the time you’d known him. 

He’s…got it all wrong. It’s backwards. How does he not realize that it’s you that isn’t good enough for him? That you could never let someone like him waste their time on you. He shouldn’t waste his time loving you. Even if all you ever wanted was to love him. 

“Wolffe…no. It’s not you-” He stepped closer and leaned his face down to your ear. He lifted his gloved knuckle along your cheekbone softly, brushing your hair aside and kissing slowly up your neck. You let out a shaky sigh, swallowing your thoughts down as he awakened the same desperate yearning that he always did. Whenever you were in his presence. Whether he was directly in front of you or 30 clicks away. Whenever he was near you, you needed him like this. 

“Who’s gonna touch you like me? Hmmm? Him?” He asked, running his hand down your arm and tracing his tongue along your jaw. He pulled back, smirking as you trembled with need you couldn’t deny yourself. He pushed you up against the wall gently, slotting his knee between your open thighs. He brushed against your heat and sent a shiver of pleasure down your spine. You let out a soft moan and he chuckled quietly. “No. He doesn’t know you like I do. Make you feel good like I do…Care…about you like I do.” 

“Wolffe.” You sighed out resting your hands on his chest before he crashed his lips against yours. He slid his tongue in your mouth, overwhelming you and stealing every breath you needed to form words you wanted to say. He melted you. He always did. You drowned your sorrow in the flood of arousal that he sent rushing between your legs whenever he touched you. 

He maneuvered his thigh against your clit, making you break the kiss to moan desperately. “That’s it, mesh’la. There’s that sound I love.” Warmth radiated from your core outwards, the feeling consuming you and making a thin sheen of sweat coat any of your exposed skin. You forgot your pain. You forgot your self-consciousness. Your inferiority. It was just him. Him and the pleasure he always brought you. Even if it was just a momentary comfort from him, you’d take it. You’d take whatever he gave you until the end of time.

“Wolffe…mmmf please. Feels s-so good.” You whimpered, resigning to the pleasure and burying the inevitable. Pretending he won’t take what he needs and walk out that door like he should. “More.” You gripped the armor on his chest for dear life and looked up at his handsome, stern face with the pathetic, lovesick adoration for him that he’d never return, but you couldn’t help showing. You rocked your hips against his codpiece and let your hands fumble with his to tear it off him to get the salacious contact you needed.

He shoved his gloved hands underneath your shirt, tearing the fabric off your head and onto the floor. “You look…fucking incredible. Much too good for anyone else to have. No one else deserves to touch your skin,” His hands gripped your breasts hard, kneading them and teasing your nipples to hardness. 

His hand slid down your torso and tore down the skirt from around your hips, leaving you bare and exposed in front of him. He slid two of his thick, gloved fingers through the slick between your legs and grunted in amusement. You whined at the contact, jerking your head back against the door as he teased your clit with the heel of his palm. The dizzying pleasure buzzed through all your nerves, making your eyes slam shut. 

Just as quickly as he started working your heat under his touch, he pulled away, lifting his coated digits to his lips. “No one else deserves to taste you,” He grabbed your face in his other hand, making you watch as he slid his fingers past his lips and dragged the taste of you across his tongue. He let out a strangled exhale, releasing the digits with a pop to settle them between your folds again. He slid his hand down to your neck and curled his fist around the smooth, unmarked skin. Slowly, the pressure of his fingertips increased, making you feel the race of your pulse as he sent your heartbeat skyrocketing.

The hunger in his brown eye was dangerous and alluring, making you crave the thorough fucking he was planning on giving you even more. He rested his forehead on yours, staring deep into your eyes as he plunged the same two fingers inside you. The delightfully sinful stretch at your entrance made your eyes roll back in your head as the pounding of your walls around him matched the thumping rhythm of your pulse. “No one else deserves to feel that pretty pussy strangle them but me. Saved this dripping little cunt for me, didn’t you, darlin’?” He growled, his hand on your neck massaging gently and loosening just enough to let you speak.

“Yes, Wolffe.” You moaned, gripping his forearm and hoping he could feel just how desperate you were to tell him how much you only ever wanted to belong to him. That every part of you was his. All he had to do was say so. The gnawing in the back of your mind always told you that day would never come. That physically using you like this was all you’d ever be any good for to him. 

“Say it louder. Don’t think he heard you out there.” Wolffe teased, motioning to where your date was somewhere beyond the door you were pressed up against. Wolffe’s fingers curled up against your front wall and pressed hard, making you buck your hips forward in response. He kept at it, nudging up against the same spot as he twirled his thumb against your sensitive clit. “Louder, mesh’la.” He growled, encouraging you as he edged you closer to your climax.

“Wolffe.” You cried out, your mind going numb as flows of pleasure flooded your center. The fresher echoed with the obscene shlicking sound of him fingerfucking you deep and hard, your body unable to resist a carnal reaction to him. You spread your legs wider, your back arching off the door to give him deeper access and he took it. He pressed his fingers inside to the knuckle and laughed devilishly.

“That’s it. There’s my filthy girl. You’re so fucking pretty…look at you- you drive me fucking crazy. Walking in looking like this…I can’t help myself, darling. I have to fucking have you.” Your insides were overheating, the heat in your gut swelling higher and hotter until you were seconds from snapping. 

You watched him through your hooded lids, his eyes roaming your body like he was trying to commit to memory what you looked like. His jaw flexed almost in anger, like he was trying his hardest to prove his worth to you and you still wouldn’t budge. He was fucking handsome always, but especially so when he was grumpy and pissed about something. His scowl always made him look so serious even though you knew he was a sarcastic and witty fucker when it really came down to it. 

You weren’t scared of him or intimidated like everyone else. You felt safe and protected around him, like nothing in the world could ever touch you as long as his arms were around you. But it was all spoiled by the fact that he never stayed for long. Always left you by morning. Never went anywhere he could be seen with you. And you know it’s because deep down he doesn’t care about you. Doesn’t care about feelings. Doesn’t care that you love him. So you run from him whenever you can find the strength to. But you’re never strong enough to stay away from him for long. And now, as he’s coaxing another orgasm out of you, you think he probably hates you for that too.

“Gods- why won’t you let me keep you? I don’t want anyone else to ever touch you. To know you like I do. Look at me, cyar’ika.” He shook you out of your own intrusive thoughts, his lips just inches from brushing your own. His eyes were wild and desperate for your attention, not just because he was drawing out the strongest orgasm of your life with just his hands, but because he wanted your sole focus, your entire body, to bend your will until you broke for him. He was looking at you like he was asking you for more and for the first time you realize you might be wrong. About everything. 

You look up into his eyes as yours fill with tears. Just a few more passes of his thumb tracing circles on your clit and you’re cumming hard. Your eyes lock with his as the orgasm collides into you. Your walls entrap his fingers inside you and your thighs shake around his forearm. Your mind blanks as the euphoria surges through your nerves, down each and every extremity and your vision is just him. His eyes, one brown and one cybernetic gray, watching what he did to you and smirking. Clearly immensely pleased with himself. 

“Wolffe…” You choke out behind high pitched moans and soft whimpers. “It’s not enough. I…need more…” More time with him. More attention. More dedication. More of his hands on you. During sex. Before. After. You just needed more. 

You needed him for more than what this was. 

You needed him to tell you he loved you like you loved him. But how could someone like him want you for more than just sex? He had every better option in the galaxy. He’d never choose you, so you could never ask. You could never risk losing what little part of him you did have. You couldn’t say all of that right now. So you begged him for more with no explanation of what more was.

He let out a frustrated growl and rested his cheek against the side of your hair. “You want me to fix that for you. But it’s never enough. You need more…deserve more than just something physical. Why do you always comm me if you’re scared to be loved?” He asked, his voice softer and more delicate than you’d ever heard him be with anyone. You panted as you toppled down from the height of your orgasm and you rested your hands on his chest. He misunderstood everything. You weren’t scared to be loved, you were just positive that the one you loved could never love you. 

“I’m not, I just…You shouldn’t have wasted so much time on me. Aren’t you ashamed to be seen with someone like me?” You asked, watching his brows raise in surprise and both his eyes blinking away dumbfounded confusion. He closed them and stepped back shaking his head. 

“What are you talking about?” He rolled his eyes and ran his hands down his face in exhaustion. “Why would I ever think something like that?”

“You only like what I can do to you, Wolffe. And you’re ashamed that you’ve stooped so low to be with someone like me.” You shouted at him with every bit of viciousness you could muster, to finally push him away from you if he couldn’t bring himself to care for you like you deserved. “I’m not good enough for you. That’s why you never take me out. Why you never let yourself be seen with me. I’m just here until you find someone better. And I can’t keep letting someone who doesn’t care touch me like that. So I’ve been trying to find someone who does.”

Wolffe whipped around like you’d just shot a blaster bolt through his back. His lips curled back in a snarl and he pointed the same fingers that were just inside you to the door behind your naked body. “You think that asshole cares about you? Who’s the one who noticed you the second you walked in here? Not him. He was too busy eyefucking the waitresses right in front of you. Who’s the one who knows exactly what you’re feeling just by the look on your face? Not him. He couldn’t tell how much it kills you to be ignored everywhere you go with him. Who’s the one who knows every square fucking inch of your body and exactly how you need to be touched? Not fucking him. Because he’s out there forgetting you exist. And I’m in here. With you. Because I’ll always be there for you. I’ve got no shame in admitting that. Who else out there is going to love you like me!?”

His chest was heaving, his heart thumping so hard you could feel it under the hands you pressed against him. He towered over you, tall and sturdy and so angry you could see the steam pouring out of him with every exhale. He was staring you in the face, expecting you to say something. To bite back at him like you usually did. Instead you shrunk away from him, retreating back into the silence of pleasure rising inside you again at the palpable tension between the both of you. It didn’t feel real. You couldn’t believe him. He was just saying things. 

He shook his head and drew in a deep breath to calm himself, grounding his boots to the floor. “I’m not ashamed of you. That’s insane. I could never be. It’s that it’s not safe for people to see me with you. I’m- ugh- I’m trying to protect you. Because I don’t want anything to happen to you. Because I can’t let anything happen to you. I’m sorry if I ever made you doubt for a second how I feel about you. But you can’t deny there’s something here, mesh’la. I know you feel it too…I love you. Don’t push me away. Please.” He rambled, grabbing both sides of your face and staring deep into your eyes with a fierce fondness that was so unequivocally Wolffe that you knew he wasn’t lying.

Tears welled up and spilled over your cheeks as you finally let the walls break down. “I just thought you’d realize you were too good for me. Because I’ve always thought you were. Perfect man with an average girl like me. And that’s why you wouldn’t want to be seen with me. And that pretty soon you’d get tired of me and stop coming back for someone who’s so pathetically and hopelessly in love with you. I didn’t want to push you away. But I didn’t think you’d ever feel the same. I didn’t think I deserved you. So I tried and tried to see other people, to run away from you before you had the chance to hurt me. I’m sorry, Wolffe. I’m so-”

Suddenly, his lips were closing around yours, cutting off the last words of an apology you never had to make. “Hey…hey…c'mon now…run away? You know I’m fast enough to keep up, mesh’la. Never letting someone like you slip away from me that easily. There’s no one good enough for you. Doesn’t mean I won’t try and succeed anyway. I’m never going to leave you or give up on you.” He cupped your face between his hands and smirked, “You really think I’m perfect, huh? Even with the eye?”

You choked out a laugh through your blubbering tears and ran a hand up the back of his neck, gripping the dark curls in your fingers. “Even more so.” You nodded, watching the concern in his eyes lessen as he calmed you down. 

“Well, I know I’m more perfect for you than that guy.” Wolffe snickered, pressing his hand against the wall to surround your body with his. You rolled your eyes playfully and pulled him into a deep kiss, his tongue dipping inside your mouth to twist with yours.

“I’m just glad I don’t have to keep looking for guys to date to make you jealous. You’re an impossible man to live up to.” You said breaking the kiss and gasping as he gripped your hips possessively. Your hands ran over the clasps of his armor, clicking it off of him and tossing the chest plate to the floor with the rest of your clothes.

He tilted your neck roughly, kissing along your jaw harshly and using his hands to guide yours across his chest. “Hmm you're right, I was fucking jealous. But I’m glad you don’t have to waste time looking for my replacement in these losers anymore.” His hot tongue kissed up your neck, biting and sucking marks on top of the finger shaped bruises starting to show from his grip earlier. You slid your hands down his torso grabbing at the waistband of his bottoms and pulling them down in one motion. He grabbed your hands and guided them to where his cock sprang up, throbbing for your attention. He laughed darkly in your ear “Besides…who’s gonna fuck you like me?” He tempted you, sliding his cock into your hands and hissing in delight.

He was pounding in your fingers, the head slick and almost purple he was so pent up with need. You dragged a long, slow tug up the shaft and looked down to spit sloppily on top of where you fisted his cock. His jaw dropped open as you coaxed your lubed up fist down his length again, your fingers gripping the perfect amount of pressure around him. “There’s no one like you, Wolffe. No one.” You whispered seductively, batting your lashes at him and twisting your fist back up.

He growled in amusement, happy to have his ego stroked by you once again. “That’s right. Don’t you forget it. Fuck mesh’la-” His words interrupted to let out a whine as you gingerly ran your fingers around the ridge of his tip. He kept his hands on the wall beside your head, letting you work him to within an inch of his sanity and torturing himself by not touching you.

You smirked up at him, your eyes innocent and compliant, as your hands slowly worked him. Resting your foreheads together and brushing your lips against his with every word you muttered, “You can never forget your best…can you, Wolffe?” Your other hand ghosted down his bare chest seductively, fully preparing to get on your knees and taste him the way he did you.

He grabbed your hand just as you began to kneel and pulled you in tighter, the hunger in his eyes mixed with his signature brooding seriousness. His mouth quirked in wicked amusement, like he was still as blown away by you as he was the day you met. He huffed softly, whether out of arousal or admiration you couldn’t tell. “Never.” He answered, the fond softness in his voice a sound no one but you would ever believe he could make. “But if you get down on your knees for me right now…you’re not going to make it out of here looking very presentable for your date.” He teased, the threat more arousing to you than he probably anticipated.

“Oh I’m as presentable as I need to be…” You rolled your heat up against him, pressing every part of you against his toned body. “...for what you’ve got planned in here.” He let out a pained whimper, grabbing the plush of your ass in his hand and rolling you into his body harder than before. In a second, the tension between you snapped and his lips were on yours like you were his only source of air to breathe. Hands gripped waists and scratched down shoulders and backs as you both scrambled to get at each other.

He lifted you off the ground and wrapped your legs around his waist, hovering your slick heat right along his needy cock. “Should walk you out there and fuck you right out on that bar. Front of everyone. Show them how I make you mine.” A deep rumble in his chest filled the room and you rolled your hips along his length to work him up more.

He backed up to the fresher mirror, pressing your back up against the cool, transparisteel wall. “Thought you wanted to keep me hidden. Keep me safe.” You challenged, sucking dark hickies into the tanned skin of his neck and humming as you felt his pulse under your tongue. 

“No. That was stupid. Would rather show you off. Anyone who's got a problem is gonna have to deal with me. You know I’m not very friendly.” He growled, slapping your ass hard just to watch you squirm. “Besides…that’ll you make happy, right? You can let everyone know the Commander claims you.” A rush of heat floods your center, still resting precariously over Wolffe’s length. He felt it immediately, chuckling to himself. “That’s what I thought. Makes you fucking wet, mesh’la.”

His hands tangled in your hair and pulled, forcing your gaze up toward him. You could feel yourself swollen with need for him, the heat in your entrance dripping down to coat him without him even having to touch you. His hold on you was like no other man’s could ever be. Your eyes were heavy with lust, your desire to have him take you, to submit to him, was so strong that maybe you would let him take you out there. In here. In your place. Or his barracks. Wherever he wanted. You finally trusted him. With that fear out of the way, all that was left was your need for him.

“You do, Wolffe. It’s all you. You’ve got me like this. Now make me yours.” You beg, your thumbs tracing gentle, affectionate circles on the plane of his chest. You sink your hands lower, feeling his body shiver slightly under your touch. You traced the intoxicating dips of his abs flexing as they helped carry the weight of you effortlessly. He was fucking gorgeous. You don’t think anyone ever tells him that enough even if they treat him like he is.

“Look at you…giving me orders now…you’re lucky you look so pretty tonight…or I’d have to do something about you being so mouthy…” His hand closed around your throat gently, squeezing just enough to make the blood pound in your ears. He scowled at you menacingly, his brown eye glinting with mischief because he knew how much you liked being touched like this. With his other hand he pulled your face closer, your lips inches from his and dragged his thumb across them. “Want my name to be the only thing falling from these lips, darlin’. Loud.”

You nodded hastily, slipping his thumb into your mouth and moving yourself into position over his cock. A wicked grin spread across his strong jaw and he lined himself up with your entrance. He ran his fingers through your folds soaked from your first climax and slicked it down the length of his cock. Slowly, he pushed past your entrance, spreading your walls to make space for the sheer size of him. The feeling made Wolffe toss his head back and sigh, carefully pressing himself deeper with your every inhale as you adjusted.

You could never get used to how thick he was, his cock stretching you out almost painfully. He watched you react, both to make sure you were okay to keep going and to practically feast on the sight of you taking all of him. “Wolffe…stars- move..please.” You gasped, grabbing at his chest desperately for more of him. You needed him to do what he does best, tear you apart from the inside out. To not bother being so gentle when you could more than take a little roughness. 

Without even taking another breath, he pulled back, the head of his cock the only part of him still inside you. You whined loudly at the loss, earning you a scolding smack to the ass and teasing growl from Wolffe. “Impatient..” Before you could argue, he slammed into you even harder, the length of him filling your belly and making the tension coil even tighter.

You choked out what sounded like his name with each powerful thrust, scrambling for some part of him to take hold of. You tangled your hands in his dark hair and pulled, bit down on the taut muscles in his shoulders and dragged your nails down his back. The deeper and harder he torqued his hips, the harder it was to keep quiet. Which was exactly what he wanted. “You’re so…fucking good, Wolffe. More, baby.” You begged, feeling the familiar tingling of your climax starting to build in your core and swelling outwards.

“Can’t..get enough…already…” He leaned forward and bit down on the hardened bud of your nipple, making you gasp. His tongue soothed over the mark on one side before he switched to the other and repeated the action, leaving his mark on all the parts of you he loved. You could feel his grip on your waist starting to bruise and the drag of his cock inside you pounding against your walls.

He pushed your back further up the wall to change the angle and the head of his cock speared into a spot so satisfying you yelped. “Fuck..fuck..Wolffe.” You whimpered, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes as you held on to his biceps, hoping it would hold him in place enough to hit that same spot again.

“Say it louder. Louder.” He growled menacingly in your ear as he fucked into you against the fogged mirror. His teeth gritting as huffs of overexertion and dissipating anger left him, his cheek pressed against yours and groaning in your ear with every snap of his hips. “Who’s gonna fuck you like me, mesh’la? Who?”

He was drilling into you so deep you could barely fill your lungs with air before your chest forced out moans of his name. Sounds he desperately wanted to hear more and more of. “Wolffe. Wolffe. Stars- fuck me, Wolffe.”

“Fuck you’re such a good girl. My good girl. You were made for me. This…perfect…tight…pussy. Fuck- made for me. You’re all fucking mine. Say it for me.” He grunted, holding your entire body close to his with just one hand and speeding up his thrusts. Each growling moan through his gritted teeth rumbled low in his chest and rattled through your bones, the deep frequency lulling you into a familiar ecstasy. You were his. He meant it. You were safe and comfortable and more fucking happy with each full thrust than you could ever remember feeling in your entire life.

“I’m yours, Wolffe. I’m all yours.” You sighed, grabbing both sides of his face in your hands and steadying yourself as each of his brutal thrusts took you. He smiled, that same warm, affectionate, sideways little smile he gave that waitress earlier, but brighter, happier, softer somehow. Because this time this smile was personal, it was meaningful and it was yours. 

“Gonna make you keep saying that until you believe it, cyar’ika.” His hand slid up your back to cradle your neck as he crashed his lips into yours head on. His hips pressed upward, shoving you higher up against the fresher mirror and smudging the fog behind you. His cock was spreading you open, the sounds of wet friction echoing on the tiles and making you both crave each other faster, hotter, and harder. You swore if Wolffe had pounded you any harder he might shatter the transparisteel mirror or break the duracrete wall behind that. He might take down the whole damn bar if he felt like it. With how powerful his thrusts were, he was certainly strong enough.

Hip bones slammed against hip bones as he chased the high you were carrying him to. Tighter and tighter your walls squeezed as he touched you, fingers on your clit, possessive grips on your waist and tangled fists in your hair. He was ravaging your body deeper than he ever had, consuming all he could of you like he never wanted to forget how you felt. How he and only he could make you feel. You were kidding yourself ever going out with other men. There was no one else. As soon as you thought it, it was spilling out of your mouth. “Ruin me, Commander. Ruin me for anyone else but you.”

He practically howled at that, digging his fingertips into the plush of your waist and angling your hips lower. His cock speared into the deepest part of you so brutally you yelped, dragging your nails down the rippling muscles of his back. You could make your possessive marks all over him too. Make all his men wonder what or who their mighty Commander had gotten tangled with back home. 

“Oh, so that’s what you want, dirty girl? You want me to fuck this tight little cunt the way only I can. You want me to pump you so full of me it’s dripping down your thighs when I walk you out of here. That’s if you can still walk straight…” He practically threatened, pulling himself all the way out of your entrance painfully slowly only to ram himself so hard back inside you that it took your breath away.

“Wolffe!” You gasped, feeling the pooled up heat in your belly starting to overtake you. The white hot pleasure began to sear through your center and radiate outward, losing all sense of feeling for anything else but the drag of Wolffe’s cock inside you and his hot exhales fanning over your face with every word.

“Ah ah…you asked for the Commander. So that’s who you’re getting now, darlin’. And you cum only when I order you to.” He teased, flashing a wicked grin and quickly circling two fingertips on your clit to spur your rapidly approaching climax on even further. “You know the rules…let me hear it…two little words…”

“Please, Commander. Please can I cum for you? Please.” You begged, looking up at him with the big, pleading eyes that drew him to you in the first place. He thought you were an angel that he could corrupt and move on. But you were different. You were a challenge. He’d met his perfect match. Beautiful little freak that fought him at every turn, constantly keeping him on his toes in front of everyone. 

But here, like this, you were pliant, soft, needy, submissive for him. Because you loved him and he respected the fucking hell out of you for seeing past the tough exterior, for seeing how he craved being soft and caring for someone special. You were a fool for thinking he didn’t love you. All the signs were there. You just couldn’t let yourself see it. Your big, brave Commander challenged your own thinking. Pushed you and fought you and battled you until he brought out the best in you. Until he scared away the notion that you weren’t the best thing this galaxy could offer some lucky someone.

The devotion was written all over his face. The brooding serious and constantly suspicious scowl he wore for the world every day wasn’t what he wore right now before you. He was love sick and desperate and starry-eyed. Well as starry-eyed as his grumpy self could ever look. Commander Wolffe loved you. You. He said it himself. You had nothing to run from anymore.

He grabbed your face in his hand and guided you into a kiss so consuming and passionate it made your overthinking mind blank entirely. It was just him, guiding you toward the edge and cutting the strings that held you back from the free fall you were too scared to take. He pulled back with a smirk and ran his hand along your temple. Your body being held solely by his hips pinning you against the wall. “Yes, my good girl, you can…Cum with me, mesh’la. Together.”

His fingers returned to your aching clit, desperately needing his attention. Masterful fingertips traced shapes against it with perfect pressure and precise speed, while his hips drilled the overwhelming girth of his cock into the painfully satisfying spot in your belly that drove you nearly to madness. One, two, three perfectly timed circles on your clit and you felt yourself teetering over into free fall. Your cunt tightened around him in anticipation and his cock plowed into you, Wolffe groaning as your walls suffocated him in place. “Fuck you take me so fucking good…” He groaned, rambling off in a trail of swear words and harsher and harsher pants. He was just as close as you.

You gasped, rocking forward to rest your head on his shoulder and feeling your thighs start to shake uncontrollably as you rocketed over the edge into your high. Your mind wiped completely, your body hurtling through what lightspeed must feel like. His touches on you are burning startrails and you’re chasing the intoxicating warmth filtering into your every last nerve ending. Your own name filled your ears as his hands gripped your hip bones, the strength leaving him with each rope of warmth he pumped into your belly.

“Wolffe!” You screamed, loud enough that you’re certain people in the booths closest to the door could hear. You hope they do. Twisting your hips and rutting into him to drag the feeling out longer, you bit down on his shoulder and he shuddered, his body tensing as he shot another white hot string of release inside you. He was whimpering and shuddering with every pass and you lost track of just how many times he spilled inside you. He fell into you, catching himself with both hands against the wall and resting his head on your shoulder. He placed the softest kisses he's ever given you along the length of your collar bone as he guided you through your climax. Wave after wave washed over you, your body arching into the protection of his.

“Good girl…ride it out. You’re fucking perfect. Been so good for me. Always are, mesh’la.” He whispered between love bites and slow kisses. His large hands caressed the sides of your waist, lifting your body off the wall to wrap you around him carefully. His spend slowly spilled out of your opening as you shifted, making Wolffe let out a raspy grunt of satisfaction.

Your voice was hoarse from moaning his name and your body was beginning to tire from the sheer blow of the orgasm that rocked you. The feeling was coming back in your limbs and you felt your body go limp in his arms as he carried you. You took in deep, soothing and fulfilling breaths, nuzzling into the crook of his neck affectionately. “Wolffe…?” You asked, running your fingers through the hair at the back of his neck.

“Yeah?”

“I love you.”

He laughed, pulling you back to look you up and down and brushing hair off your face. “I know…you let me fuck you in the fresher…at MY bar. Knew I’d get you someday.” You rolled your eyes and leaned forward to kiss him again, letting him win without argument this time. He reached down to hand you your skirt and top. 

“I didn’t think you’d want me to get dressed already.” You joked, shooting him a puzzled glance.

He set you down on your feet and helped you zip up your skirt while he positioned his plastoid back in place. You spun around to give yourself the once over in the mirror, wiping smeared make up and tear stains off your cheeks. You smoothed out what you could of the mess he’d made pulling your hair, before you felt his hands on your waist again. 

“Well, normally no. But you’ve got a date…” Your eyes met in the mirror, his roaming down the curves of your body and back up. He spun you around in his grasp, leaning down to kiss you deeply. 

“...So we better get back out there before they give our table back to that fucking guy I hate.”

--

P.S. AHHH it's done. I loved this work. The inspo just hit me listening to this song and I was like oh this is so Wolffe. I absolutely adore what fanon and canon did with his character. He is the most realistic of all the clones. He's proud and strong and kind of closed off, but only to protect the caring, soft, compassionate person he really is inside. He just doesn't always want to show it. Grumpy Handsome Commander <3

taglist: @literallydontlook @maulslittlemeowmeow @kaminocasey @rexandechosandwich @palpipeen @lackofhonor @rikki-b-lake @writteninthesw

#commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x f!reader #commander wolffe x fem!reader #commander wolffe smut #the clones smut #star wars fanfic #the clone wars smut

[toomanybandstocare]

26. “You're allowed to need help."

With Wolffe 🤭

{You Came, You Called}

Program: You don't know why it happens, or why it lasts for sometimes only a day or spans across months. There are days where you can't recognize the person looking back at you. On those days, there's only one person you trust to call for support. The is nothing in this galaxy that will prevent Wolffe from coming to your aid and caring for you with a tender love that's reserved only for you.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x GN! Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Length: 5016w

Warnings: This is about body dysmorphia (no appearance description of the reader's body, please read counselor note). Couple of swears, Anxiety, Petnames (cy'are, cyar'ika, sarad)

Counselor Note: First of all, thank you for the request Starry! No pressure to read this is, this is something you're not comfortable with. Now, this fic depicts body dysmorphia with the physical sensations I associate with it. Dysmorphia varies from person to person in how they experience and navigate life with it. That being said, this is just how I've experienced it and some of the things I do to help make myself feel as comfortable as I can on these days. I've written it so it focuses on the physical sensations that happen in a person's body rather than appearance. This is really just a self indulgent piece, because I think Wolffe especially would take care of someone with dysmorphia with the utmost care.

Camp Resolute Masterlist

Prompt List

ClonexReader Bingo Masterlist

Prompt: Memory Hosted by @clonexreaderbingo

Camper Tag List: @staygoldwriting @ladyzirkonia

Today greets you with a blade to your neck. An unsettling discomfort settles in your bones before you even open your eyes. Hearing the dull thuds and clasps clicking of your lover’s armor, your chest sears with loneliness. The words harden on your tongue as he presses a soft kiss to your temple. Desperately wanting to call out for help, you can’t force your body to listen to you as you hear Wolffe quietly walk away from the bedroom. With every step he takes, the stinging pain behind your forehead grows more intense. Just as you manage a small noise of distress, the front door hisses open to conceal the sound. Silence hangs in the air. It coils and thickens as it wraps itself around you in a suffocating embrace.

Coruscant has yet to awaken and ease into its early morning bustle. All the morning birds stay safely tucked away in their nests. Only the shadows passing by the curtained window announce the lingering taxi speeders quietly dropping off last night party goers. Not even the sun has dared to rise. What should have been a moment to enjoy a sliver of peace and quiet now strikes you with sickening unease.

Harsh air locks hiss as they release tension. Mechanical whirls irritate your ears before the door finally slides closed, and it leaves a stale feeling of dread that consumes the entire apartment. You press your face into your pillow to let a whimper escape from your chapped lips. Every sense of familiarity dissipates from your mind as the planes of your body sit heavy on your bones. Overstimulation stings your nervous system with every fiber that touches your skin. The blankets you picked out with Wolffe in excitement when moving in together now scratch you. Your favorite sleep shirt twists and pulls, constricting your breathing. Wolffe’s cologne lingers over his side of the bed, and it blocks your airway with each haggard breath you take.

All the comforts of home contort into a foreign reality, so close to the one you live in, that holds you hostage when it pleases. Swallowing the lump forming in your throat, you take a deep breath and slowly exhale it. So, it’s going to be one of those days. One where you have to navigate life in a body so different from the one you’ve grown up with. Yet, it’s the very same body that you used to feel comfortable just hours before you woke up. You close your eyes and try to find a comfortable spot to fall asleep again. However, the heavy aches and dips pressing down on your body make it difficult to slip into a peaceful slumber. Luckily, the sandman takes pity on you after some time and sends you into a deep sleep.

When your eyes slowly blink open, the dreadful pit forming in your chest grows. Glancing at the cronometer above your dresser mirror, your tired mind barely understands that it’s nearing lunch time now. “It’s okay,” you soothe yourself. Anxiety shakes your words as a light tremble courses through your body as you sit up in bed. “Just have to take the day as it is,” you remind yourself. Slipping out of bed, the cold tiles sting your feet as you pad over to the adjourning fresher. “My body changes and grows to support me and where I am in life. My body is healthy, and my mind is at peace. I am managing this the best I can, and that’s enough,” you slowly recite. The affirmations that Wolffe helped you develop flow from your mouth with growing difficulty. On the cabinet’s top shelf between the doorway and sink counter, you scan over your self care products and half used candles. As you reach up for your favorite scent, a dull ache pulls down on your arm muscles. Your heart thumps painfully against your chest. With fingers wrapped around the candle, you pull it down with a lighter.

The igniter hurts to spark when your thumb pushes down on the mechanism. Small flickers shoot into the air before they fizzle. Each failed attempt spurs your heart rate to quicken, and frustration flares through you. “For fuckssake,” you hiss. “Am I really that useless?”

Bringing both your hands abruptly to the marble counter, you squeeze your eyes shut and focus on your breathing. Wolffe’s voice echoes in your mind, and you can practically hear his scoff. His all too familiar eyeroll burns at the back of your head even though you know he’s already deep in managing today’s drills. You’re not useless. Try talking about my cy’are like that again and see where it lands you. You need to be especially kind to yourself on days that your mind challenges you. Remember? We’ve talked about this. 

Pushing a deep breath out through your nose, you shake your head. “I’m trying,” you gasp. Exhaustion clouds your mind as it works overtime to discern the false reality you’re slowly being pulled into. Your hips hurt from the unbalanced weight that pulls down at you. The underside of your arms feel as if they’re nothing. A phantom pressure wraps around your chest sending your skin ablaze. “I’m trying to be kind to myself,” you hoarsely defend, “but how am I supposed to know what care I deserve when I can’t even recognize who’s looking back at me in the mirror?”

When you open your eyes, you feel as if you’re caught in free fall. Familiar eyes stare back at you in the mirror, but an unsettling vacancy glosses over them. Unable to pull your gaze away from the reflection, your mind screams at you to flee. Don’t do this to yourself. Don’t fall victim to a trap hidden in plain sight. Yet, you can’t break free from the twisted lies that root you in place.

Your eyes flicker over your appearance. Each change and difference that doesn’t look familiar is cataloged in your demons’ arsenal. The longer you search in the mirror for imperfection, the less you recognize yourself. Tears blur your vision and thicken the dark storm rumbling in your head. Dragging your eyes to meet the broken gaze that looks directly through you, a punch knocks the wind out of your chest.

Com me. Wolffe’s reminder barely noticeable above the raining ridicule that weighs you down. You’re not alone in this. You don’t have to go through this alone. We have a system in place to support you, but I need you to call me. I can’t come if I don’t know you need me.

“I don’t want to bother you,” you choke on your words. A cry for help screams from the back of your mind, but insecurities stifle it. “I can take care of myself. I’ve done it for so long now. What’s one more day?”

You’ve had to survive these experiences alone long enough now. It’s my responsibility to take care of you as your partner. Wolffe’s voice drops to a low rumble. I have always told you to call me. For anything. It doesn’t matter where I am or what time it is. It’s a privilege to care for you when you need the same support you offer to others . It’s an honor to love you, and one that I do not take lightly. Just give the word, and I will run home to you.  

Sobs wrack your body. Lungs constricting from the quick breaths that you force yourself to take. A lightheadedness brews with the dysmorphic storm raging in your head. The entirety of your skin feels like pin pricks are lodging themselves deep into your tissue. Dips and aches shift your weight in uncomfortable areas while nausea crashes in your stomach.

Glass clinks onto the counter as metal skids across it. Racing out of the fresher, you haphazardly stumble back into the bedroom. Your frantic mind searches for the private comlink Wolffe gave you as your six month anniversary present. 

Sheets fly into the air as you run your hands over the bed and under the pillow. The habit of sleeping with it by your side while he’s away never truly leaves you. Even if Wolffe sleeps right beside you. 

The side table drawer snaps open, and you rummage through the scattered belongings. Always fighting a lingering anxiety of losing it, you try to keep the device in the same spot.

Your footsteps slap against the floor as you dash to your dresser. Wiping away the tears streaming down your face, you scan your gaze over the travel trinkets Wolffe’s sent you throughout the year and your day to day necessities. A frustrated whimper breaks into a sob when your eyes land on the comlink carefully placed by Wolffe’s cologne bottle.

As you hold the small device in your hand, you force air into your lungs with a few deep breaths. Just ask him when he’ll be home and get through the day until then. He doesn’t need more stress on top of physical exams and drill training right now. Slowly exhaling the last breath, when you click the call button a strike of pain flashes up your thumb and settles in your wrist.

The comlink barely chirps loud enough over the shouts, grunts, and blaring music in the base hangar. Fatigue already pulling at his body, Wolffe resists the urge to sit down with his fellow COs at the admin table. When the chirp comes through again, his eyebrows furrow. You know that the drills are today. A bite of unease gnaws at the back of his neck making the hair stand on edge. There’s only one reason you’d call him right now.

Wolffe catches Cody’s eye and signals that he’s taking five minutes before he walks off to a quieter area. A nervous pang hits his chest when a third chirp comes through, and he picks up the pace to a shipment area. Behind a stack of supply crates, Wolffe finds a semblance of privacy that does little to ease the building tension in his shoulders. 

“Cy’are?,” Wolffe quietly answers as he holds up the comlink.

Your head jolts back as his voice comes through. The anxiety from waiting to see if he would respond now simmers into nerves of apprehension. What if he’s in the middle of something important?

A knot forms in his chest twists as a light static hangs in the air. “Cy’are, is everything alright? You don’t normally call me unless it’s an emergency,” Wolffe’s voice comes out gruff. More curt than he would usually speak with his partner from having to return from leave to act as a commanding officer for the day.

You wince. A moment of hesitation passes before you quietly respond, “When are you coming home?”

“I-,” Wolffe’s voice trails off as a group of troopers pass by laughing. Drill days are always a welcomed break from the usual debrief meetings and supply stocks. Clearing his throat, Wolffe sighs. “I don’t know. Depends on when we finish up today,” he explains. A curious tug pulls at the back of his mind. “Cy’are, you know better than to just com me unless it’s an emergency,” Wolffe chides. Stress from the chaos of physical exam day bleeds into his attitude towards you.

“I know” you murmur. His disappointment adds pressure to the additional weight you carry with you today. “I just miss you, is all. I’m sorry,” you softly apologize.

The unease travels from his neck to across his shoulders as it pricks at Wolffe’s skin. A new urgency from your shaking voice sends alarms wailing in his mind. “Is everything alright? Did anything happen?” he tries again more softly. His breathing slows down, as he hangs on the silence separating the two of you. “Talk to me. Tell me what’s running through that mind of your’s,” he softly coaxes you. Three little words faintly echo in the back of his mind. They gnaw at his composure, but Wolffe manages to keep himself collected. He has to make sure that everything happens at your pace.

Just as the phrase rests on the tip of your tongue, a flare of panic shoots through your chest. Tendrils of anxiety wrap around you and try to hold you back from calling out to Wolffe. Lungs squeezing and chest constricting, you feel lightheaded as you rush to say: “The mirror broke”.

A cold wave of dread washes over Wolffe. All his instincts yell at him to run home to you and make sure you’re safe. His chest rises and falls quickly. “What happened?” he presses you to elaborate. Careful that he heard your code phrase correctly before hurrying into action.

“The mirror broke, Wolffe,” you cry. Fresh tears sting your lash line as you try to catch your breath. Your nerves flames through you, and you lean on the dresser with your free hand to support yourself. “I-I just need to know when you’ll come home,” you shakily explain. “You don’t need to come home, yet. It’s okay,” you explain. As if caught in an undercurrent, your words sound watery and broken.

“Listen to me. I want you to go into the fresher and start a bath for us, okay?” Wolffe calmly urges you. Without a moment’s hesitation, Wolffe quickly leaves the shipment area and weaves through the mass of clones hanging out as they wait for their exams to begin. When he approaches, his brother’s greetings soon die on their tongues as they move out of his way. No one wants to come between Wolffe and wherever he’s set on being with the dark air of determination around him. “I’ll be home in thirty. Not that far from you, remember that”.

“I tried that,” you wheeze. “I couldn’t even light a candle, Wolffe. Everything hurts so bad,” you sob. Your palm sears in pain as your white knuckles flare against the dresser. “I didn’t want to pull you away from exam day, I know it’s important,” you explain.

“You’re allowed to need help. That’s why we set up this plan, but it only works if you let me know what’s happening. I’m so grateful and proud of that for calling,” Wolffe firmly reassures you. His heart hammers as he strides back into the main drill area. Holding himself tall, Wolffe approaches the CO table with a fierce air of determination. Nothing is going to get in the way standing by your side when you need him most, regardless of where the Republic needs him. You need him right now, and that’s all that matters. “Hold on for one minute. Can you do that for me?” he quietly asks as he nears the table.

“Course,” you sniff. Pushing off the dresser, you stumble towards your bed. Anticipation adds more weight pressing down on you. As soon as you’re a step away from the dresser, your knees buckle. Collapsing onto the bed, you whimper quietly as your hips ache from a flare of dull stings. Your achy hand carefully pulls the comforter from the corner to wrap yourself in some sort of comfort as you wait for Wolffe.

“Cody,” Wolffe barks out just steps before the table. All his batchmates' eyes lock onto him and widen in shock. Yes, they’re as close as brothers come, but there’s a certain line none of them cross when working alongside each other as soldiers. One that Wolffe steps over without a single fucking care. Not when it concerns your wellbeing and safety.

Cody sits up in his seat as his brother suddenly returns. He eyes the man carefully and notices the slight shaky edge to Wolffe’s voice. “Something the matter, vod?” Cody calmly asks. The two of them and their batchmates have been through just about every inhumane and unimaginable tragedy of war. After experiencing and reliving these horrors, Cody knows for a fact that there’s very little that rattles Wolffe.That’s what unsettles Cody the most as he meets his vod’s gaze and catches the subtle panicked shift in his eyes.

Wolffe grabs his helmet from the table and stops at Cody’s side. Looking down at his brother, Wolffe’s memory fills with the numerous times his batchmates covered for the two of you when asked. Wolffe can’t recall how many regulations and protocols he’s broken in order to be with you, but he can’t bring himself to feel any shame adding another to the growing list. “Something happened back at the apartment,” Wolffe drops his voice to a grave whisper.

Realization stings at the back of Cody’s neck. Slowly nodding, Cody’s expression hardens to match his brother’s. He scans the hanger while keeping his voice low and steady, “How many of your boys need to finish up before you’re done?”

“Just Comet, Boost, and Warthog,” Wolffe quickly answers. The sharpness to his tone softens as he watches Cody add them to his roster checklist.

Meeting his brother’s gaze, Cody motions his head to the exit. “Go. Let us know if we can help in any way,” Cody urges him.

“Thank you,” Wolffe breathes out. Cody’s serious expression holds him back from rushing out.

“I want you to know,” Cody says in absolute seriousness, “that we care about your cy’are just as much as you do. Alright? I don’t want either of you thinking that you’re burdening us when you ask for our help”.

Wolffe meets Cody’s concerned gaze and feels a small wash of relief. With a small nod, he quickly takes his leave. Grateful to have his brothers’ support regardless of the situation. As he steps out the hanger entrance and waves down a cab, Wolffe tries to collect himself. But the short commute seems to drag on longer than usual as anxiety slows down time. Raising the comlink up to his mouth, Wolffe picks up your call once more. “I’m coming home, cy’are”.

As numbness settles in your body, you feel as if you’re hanging on by a single thread. Frayed and strained, it’s the only thing tethering you to reality. The comforter stings your skin as it rubs against you everytime you shift your limbs. Desperate to ease the aching pain that sits heavy on you like a second skin. Unable to hear the cronometer chime underneath the pillow that shields you, you have no concept of time as you fall further into your mind’s spiral after Wolffe’s com connection dropped. 

“Fuckssake,” Wolffe growls under his breath. His chest heaves from practically throwing himself out of the cab and through the entrance of your apartment building. The driver could not have been any slower, and it had to be when you needed his reassurance that the blasted comlink dies. Jamming in the passcode, Wolffe steps into his home with a gnawing unease. 

Silence greets him as the door hisses closed behind him. Dropping his helmet on the entryway table,Wolffe steps into the apartment. His eyes look over the kitchen and then scan the living room. His heart thunders against its cage as he searches for you. “Cy’are?” Wolffe quietly calls out. He holds his breath, and his airway slowly begins to constrict as the seconds feel like hours. 

A faint rustling sound causes his ears to prick up. Wolffe walks over to the bedroom and peers in from the doorway. His chest sinks as he watches a mound of blankets twist and snag on the corner of the bed. With each step he takes closer to you, Wolffe quickly unfastens his armor. An urge to be as close to you as possible takes over him, and the minute his boots haphazardly leans against the foot of the bed, Wolffe joins you on the bed. He lays on his side with only the length of one hand between you two. “Cya’rika,” Wolffe murmurs. “Tell me how I can help”. His fingers twitch against the crumpled sheets. 

As much as he tries to stay calm during these moments, Wolffe always feels an underlying fear that takes him back to the first time he witnessed one of your dysmorphic days nearly a year and a half ago. A sense of utter helpness slowly crept through him as your dull eyes barely met his own. Confusion gnawed at his mind when you changed your outfit multiple times in the day and only weakly responded with, “It felt too heavy on me”. Concern overcame him when you would only eat a few bites of a particular snack when the two of you would normally cook your meals together. Not a single training simulation could have prepared him for when you locked yourself in the fresher as sobs scratched your voice raw and echoed through the apartment. His desperate pleas and knocks on the door went unanswered for what seemed like eternity. Until he decided that you suffered alone for long enough and broke down the door keeping you from him. Neither of you wanted to leave the uncomfortable spot on the tile as Wolffe held you and listened to your ongoing fight with body dysmorphia. It wasn’t until you finished that he spoke, and Wolffe only coaxed you to let him take care of you.

After that, Wolffe helped you develop a safety net and code phrase for days like these. Always making sure to stock up on self care products for the bathroom. The kitchen is filled with your latest safe foods. He always checks your comlink works before he leaves for deployment. Even with the best preparation, Wolffe knows he can’t take away all the pain. He can only hope to take some of the weight off your shoulders.

Dizzy and dazed from the searing headache that’s settled against your skull, it takes a moment for you to collect your scattered thoughts. “I can’t breathe,” you softly plead.

His hand moves before he processes your words. Pulling the comforter from your face, Wolffe takes care not to touch your skin. The detailed description you provided of how many physical sensations send pin pricks sinking into your skin is now embedded in his memory. When he meets your red rimmed eyes, Wolffe’s gaze softens. His grip tightens on the blanket as he holds it up and away from you, so it doesn't sit on top of you. “What else can I do for you?” he calmly asks. Whatever you ask, Wolffe will follow through on your request. Nothing is too much to ask of him.

“Everything feels wrong,” you wheeze. Your thighs tingle against the synthetic material of your sleep pants. When you move them, a flare of stinging pain shoots across them.

“How about we get into some sweats and comfy clothes,” Wolffe suggests. When you jerk a nod, Wolffe feels a bit better. It’s been a long time since your dysmorphia hit this hard, but the two of you will be able to handle it. “Can I move the comforter off you? I can throw it in the wash with the sheets, so we have new ones for tonight”.

“Please,” you sigh. The bed shifts when Wolffe stands, and you’re excited to be free from the safe haven that now suffocates you in stale heat. Some of the tension lifts from you as the blanket is finally off your body, and you carefully stretch your sore limbs. As you sit up on the bed, you yearn for Wolffe to hold you as he carries the comforter to the laundry basket. Even the thought causes your palms to sting. “Can we sleep on the pull out tonight?”

“‘Course,” Wolffe answers without a trace of displeasure in his voice. “We can set it up after dinner, and the bed can be something we tackle together tomorrow”’. With just a few steps, Wolffe moves from the laundry basket to your shared wardrobe. As he presses the door’s control panel, he asks, “Have an idea what would be comfiest for you? We also should start to think about what sounds good for dinner”. Wolffe keeps his voice soft and casual, not wanting to overwhelm you. His fingertips skim across the fabrics of your lounge clothes, and he carefully tugs out your requested set from the teetering pile.

When Wolffe turns around with your lounge set and his sweats, your chest feels lighter. “I don’t know what I’m hungry for,” you quietly admit as you take the clothes from him. Your fingertips softly brush against each other, and a familiar comfort eases the ache in your bones. “What sounds good to you?” you ask as you slip off the bed. Carefully laying out the clothes on the rustled sheets, a small smile tugs at your lips as Wolffe does the same next to you. Always standing by your side, taking each step with you. 

“If you’re feeling up to it, we could go to the noodle and soup stand down the block. Some fresh air would be a good idea,” Wolffe thinks out loud. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees you thumb the outfit nervously. Grabbing the back of his shirt, Wolffe pulls it off with a small hum. As he reaches for his oversized, gray long sleeved shirt, Wolffe relaxes as you mirror his movements. “Or we could order take out and eat on the balcony? A Naboo flatbread also sounds good,” he continues to suggest meals that would be easy on your stomach. 

Wolffe’s tender love and attentive care nearly bring you to tears again. Out of everyone in the galaxy, you don’t understand how or why the stars aligned to bring him into your life. Maybe there isn’t a celestial fate that brought the two of you together. Maybe it was complete and utter luck you locked eyes across the import and trade market that Spring day two years ago. It was just meant to be. Whether prewritten in the cosmos or a blip that caused your timelines to entwine with each other. 

“Thank you,” you whisper as you slip on your lounge pants. You fiddle with the edge of your shirt and rub the material with your thumbs.

Wolffe tilts his head as he takes you in. His cy’are that brings so much light and happiness to every situation. Always offering advice or a shoulder for someone to rest their weary head on. Some days he barely recognizes the love of his life though. These are the days that Wolffe’s most proud of his cyar’ika. A tiny flicker of hope glimmers behind tired eyes, and he can only imagine how hard you must fight for yourself on these days. “You never need to thank me for loving you how you deserve,” Wolffe firmly reminds you. His steady voice fills with devotion as he holds your gaze.

“I know it can be a lot to handle,” you say barely above a quiet murmur. “Especially if you don’t completely understand what I’m experiencing. So, thank you for being patient and kind when I can’t do the same for myself sometimes”.

Wolffe takes a step closer to you and reaches out to hold your face. But he pauses. Hands hovering just an inch away from you as his eyes search flicker between your own. As soon as you give him a tiny nod, Wolffe softly cups your jaw. His calloused thumbs gently rub your skin, and his chest swells as you lean into his touch. “Love isn’t easy, cy’are,” he says in almost a reverent tone. “But loving you is never difficult. I can’t imagine a life without you anymore, and I never want you to feel like I take you for granted. If it comes down to fighting with your demons, I will hold them off for however long you need to rest in order to push past a dark day to see another bright day”. Wolffe leans down, and he stops just as his head is about to rest on your’s. “May I?” he checks. Another small nod brings him closer to you, and Wolffe leans his forehead against your own. “Loving you is my greatest honor. I never want you to think that you're a burden to me, especially on days when you need a little more care, sarad. Lean on me when you need, because I am here for you always. I’m here for you on the days you stand tall and navigate life with excitement. I am here for you on the days where you need to stay tucked away in the comfort of our home. I am here for you, because I love you”.

Your heart hurts from Wolffe’s promise. Unable to voice your gratitude with words, you tip your head to press a lingering kiss to the corner of his mouth. When his lips quirk with a small smile, you know he understands your silent message. 

“How about we go out to the soup shop, hm? Take a quick walk afterwards, and then we can come home for a bath or holofilm,” Wolffe guides you back to the question of dinner. Pulling away from you, Wolffe lets a rare smile grow as your hands hold his wrists as you stare at him with a revived adoration. A breakthrough from today’s fatigue that he couldn’t be more proud of.

“Sounds perfect. Maybe we can stop by the tea shop as well and get something to drink and nibble on during the film,” you hum. Wolffe’s hands lower from your face, but he leaves one outreached to you. Slipping your hand into his, you feel some of the pressure dissipate from your tense muscles as he leads you to the entryway. Your body still aches as you carefully put on the jacket Wolffe holds open for you, but it’s a little more manageable with his help. It doesn’t hurt as much when you press the control panel to open the door. After stepping into the hallway, you turn around and watch Wolffe slip on your fanny pack and his coat with a fond expression. As Wolffe locks your shared apartment, you couldn’t be more grateful to have him as your partner. You couldn’t imagine your life without Wolffe by your side.

#commander wolffe fic #commander wolffe fics #commander wolffe hurt/comfort #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x fem!reader #commander wolffe x gn!reader #commander wolffe x yn #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x male reader #commander wolffe headcanons #commander wolffe headcanon #the clone wars fics #the clone wars fic #clone wars fanfic #the clone wars fanfic #clone wars fic #clone wars fics #commander wolffe one shot #commander wolffe one shots #CFB 2023 #camp halfwit bulletin post #counselor mythos post #reader insert #tw body dysmorphia #cw body dysmorphia

[enigmaticexplorer]

A Spine of Tiny Dragons

Summary: Lost for days amongst the humid jungles of Eluca, you and Commander Wolffe come across your first sign of a water source. What better way to spend your afternoon than taking a bath?

Pairing: Wolffe x fem!reader

Warnings: 18+ minors DNI; while there is no smut, there are sexually explicit thoughts at the end. Sexual tension; unresolved sexual tension; comfort; implied sexual content.

Word count: 4.6k

Read it on AO3.

A/N: A special thank you to @starstofillmydream for the beta. 

This little story idea was inspired by my current WIP, specifically the tattoo.

Wiping away the sweat on your forehead, you blinked at the endless expanse of green. The baritone hum of insects had grown louder, distorting your hearing. It increased your distress—the inability to determine if something or someone else was out there. Beside you, Commander Wolffe paused, cocking his head.

You tensed. “What is it?”

The commander straightened, rolling his shoulders back. “I hear water. Most likely a river.”

A breath of hope squeezed your chest but you snuffed it out.

Less than twenty-four hours had passed since you and the commander emerged from Eluca’s mountainous tunnels. Caked in dust, eyes scrunched against the brightness of the sun, you had nearly collapsed in relief. Freedom from the endless, winding tunnels—from the omnipresent darkness and claustrophobic panic—had been a relief.

Relief was ephemeral: the oppressive heat of Eluca’s climate quick to remind you and the commander you were both dehydrated and famished.

The effects of dehydration and hunger were ubiquitous. Dark spots flickering at the edge of your vision; muscles spasming; difficulty breathing. Your thoughts were sluggish; your physical movements slow and uncoordinated. Even now, you weren’t entirely certain if you had heard him correctly.

Erring on the side of caution, you said, “Water?” He gave a short nod and you frowned. “You’re not joking, right?”

“I wouldn’t joke about your well-being.”

The deadpanned honesty was strong enough you winced. It had only been four days since you both were separated from your amalgamated crews. Days lost in the tunnels had contributed to a quiet comradery. Nothing more. You weren’t familiar enough with the commander to know the subtleties of his personality.

“But are you certain you hear water?” You wiped more sweat from your neck. Even beneath the shade of the loping tree branches and serpentine vines, the sweltering heat sucked hydration from your fatigued body. Hydration you were desperate to cling to. “I don’t hear anything but bugs.”

“I know what I’m hearing.” He pointed over your shoulder. “We’ll need to backtrack but it’s not far off.”

You rubbed at your blurred vision, trying to think. “Why didn’t you hear it before? I don’t want to waste energy on a futile trip.”

“It won’t be futile. I hear something. If it’s not a river, it’s a stream. And we both need water.” He took a step closer to you, resting his hands on your shoulders and gently urging you to turn around. “You’ll have to trust me on this.”

“But—”

The commander stalked away, pushing through the heavy, voluptuous tree leaves. You glared after him—offended by his dismissal.

He had been a respectable companion the past few days. Though taciturn and nearly apathetic at your predicament, he had proven reliable. Especially in the impenetrable darkness of the tunnels. The tightening walls suffocating. It was his gruff voice, the calm steadiness, that reminded you to breathe. To get your shit together.

And he had protected you at the meeting. Though you were fairly certain it was mere happenstance, since he was standing beside you.

Most likely instinct that dictated his decision to throw himself atop you as rocks larger than your head tumbled and crashed against the floor.

Serious and unwavering in his determination to escape the tunnels, his companionship proved more ideal than being lost alone. Even if he elected to ignore you, at times.

“Hurry up,” Commander Wolffe barked from ahead, his order sharp and demanding. “I’m not carrying you if you collapse.”

You scoffed, joining him, hope and desperation urging your aching legs to keep up. And if the commander heard the few times you stumbled over a root you could have sworn wasn’t within stepping vicinity, he remained quiet. Whether it was out of kindness or apathy, you weren’t certain.

Too many minutes passed before a distinctive rushing noise eclipsed the hum of the insects.

Commander Wolffe disappeared through a dense clump of vines and when you emerged after him, you staggered to a halt, standing upon the edge of a steep embankment. The barest hint of a breeze ghosted your face. Your lips parted in awe.

A river, nestled between the vibrant jungle on both sides, and perhaps a kilometer in width, lazed on its humble way. The rich blue of clean water reflected the few clouds in the sky. White rapids churned near the river’s center, though the sandy shores remained quiet and soothing.

The gentle, lazy flow beckoned you forward. Whispered your name.

With a sigh of relief, you jogged down the sandy slope, crashing to your knees and lifting a handful of water to your face.

“Wait—”

You ignored the commander’s warning, guzzling the water. It was cold. Cold and fresh, and so fucking refreshing. The reassurance you weren’t going to die was so overwhelming you started to tremble. And if you had the means, you probably would have cried.

Your hands acted on their own accord, scooping up another handful of water. And another. After five, you splashed water into your face. Rubbed it down your neck. Relished the sweet chill of the droplets beneath your sweat-soaked shirt.

“You should have waited,” Commander Wolffe grumbled from beside you, interrupting your brief moment of relief. He had removed his helmet, the dark color of his face shimmering with water. He aimed a baleful glare in your direction. “It could have been salt water.”

“But it wasn’t.” His glare might have deterred you days ago. Hell, it would have unnerved you yesterday. But the relief of the water in your stomach had swept you into a contented stasis, a soft smile on your face. “Relax, Commander. I thought we were going to die.”

He rolled his eyes and returned to cupping large handfuls of water, droplets arcing down his neck. At his lack of argument, your smile vanished. Death had been closer than you originally thought. It was sobering. Too sobering.

You pushed yourself to your feet. To your left, the river hooked left, disappearing amongst lively thickets. To your right, it was swallowed by the tangled mass of canopied trees. You and the commander were secluded.

Commander Wolffe regained his feet, running his hands through his hair. You studied him for a moment.

“Turn around,” you ordered, reaching for the buttons of your trousers.

“No.” The dismissal was short and annoyed. A verbal scoff.

“Yes.” You undid the first button, tossing him an exasperated look. “I’m taking off my clothes, so turn around.”

His head jerked back. Bewilderment furrowed his brows. “Why?”

“We’ve been walking for four days, Commander. Four days.” His jaw clenched and you straightened, eyes narrowing. “I haven’t bathed, using the restroom has not been pleasant, and I’ve been sweating endlessly. I probably smell awful and I want to clean myself.” You gestured to the river before crossing your arms over your chest. “We’re not going to be rescued today. Hell, no one probably even knows we’re on this side of the mountain. I feel disgusting and I finally have an opportunity to bathe, so I’m going to take it. Turn around.”

Commander Wolffe stared at you for a long moment. Long enough you had time to acknowledge you probably appeared desperate. Possibly hysteric. And if you were being honest with yourself, you weren’t beneath pleading. You needed a fucking bath.

Preparing a different argument, you opened your mouth—

“All right.” Surprise raised your eyebrows and the commander rolled his eyes. “Make it quick.”

You reached for your buttons again, nodding at him to turn around.

“We’re in an unknown jungle with possible enemies. I’m not turning around.” He paused, and then drawled, “I’ve been with plenty of women. It’s nothing I haven’t seen.”

“That may be so.” You offered him an unimpressed look. “But you haven’t seen me naked. You can turn back around when I’m in the water.”

An inscrutable emotion flickered across his face, too quick for you to decipher. With an impressively aggrieved sigh, he turned away. You made quick work of your clothes and underthings, hugging them to your chest as you strolled into the lazing river.

The water wasn’t freezing, but it also wasn’t warm. You shivered, wading out until you found a spot where you could sit, the gentle currents lolling across your chest and shoulders. Decent cover. Just in case the men Commander Wolffe insisted would come for him actually did. Or the possible enemies he had referred to showed up.

At a fleeting thought of creatures lurking beneath the dark water and biting your naked bits, you hesitated. Was a bath worth it?

The lull of the river and the thought of a clean body convinced you to stay. Anyway, Commander Wolffe would probably rescue you from any wayward creatures. Probably.

“Do you have any soap in that belt of yours?” you called out, scrubbing the dust from your shirt. If he kept ration bars, small tools, and a compacted heat blanket in his belt, soap shouldn’t have been unlikely.

The thud of something heavy hit the sandy embankment. You ignored it.

“Can I turn around now?”

Leave it to the commander to ignore your question. Rolling your eyes, you answered, “Yes.”

Too focused on the task of cleaning your underwear, you didn’t hear the commander approach. He was impressively silent for a man of his size wading through water. He took a seat beside you. Close enough you could bump elbows.

You stopped, blinking at his proximity. He was taller than you. Tall enough the river hardly lapped at his chest, and it was not lost on you that his height and position could provide a certain inappropriate view should he want it. So why the hell was he sitting so fucking close?

The river was hundreds of kilometers in length, and he chose to sit beside you. Directly beside you. In your personal space. Either he didn’t trust you to keep yourself safe in the river, or…

Well, you weren’t entirely certain what the other option could be. Which left his assumption that you didn’t know how to swim. How annoyingly domineering of him.

The commander ignored your well-timed scowls, intent on scanning your surroundings. Sighing, loudly, you returned to your clothes, content to ignore him. Until he offered you a thin, dark gray bar. You stared at it.

“It’s soap,” he explained slowly, waving the bar in front of your face, as if to make a point. “You asked for it.”

“I’m surprised you actually had some.” You accepted it, bringing it to your nose. It carried a strong scent of amber, and a subtle note of tobacco. “Your belt is truly magical.”

He scoffed. “Utilitarian.”

“Magically utilitarian.”

“Utilitarian by my own forethought.” The corner of his lip twitched. “You should be grateful you’re stuck with me. Not all my men carry soap with them. And too many would have offered to wash you themselves.”

“Aw. Are you going to offer?”

He gave you a bland look. “No.”

Lathering the soap between your hands, you huffed a laugh. Sarcastic and dry. He was truly the ideal partner.

Minutes passed in companionable silence, the clouds above rolling along their way, the sun’s heat on your scalp a stark contrast to the chill of the water slicking your skin.

Once you finished cleansing yourself, Commander Wolffe took his time lathering the soap down his arms and neck. Suds bubbled and oozed, drawing your attention. White scars bespeckled the wide expanse of his back and chest. Dark hair skittered down his lower stomach and—

It was rude to stare.

While he was distracted, you exited the river and laid out your clothes on a hot boulder. The one benefit to the scorching sun: it would dry your clothes quickly. Upon your return, the commander did the same.

You called out, “When you said ‘make it quick’—”

“I’m not walking around in wet clothes.”

Grinning, you tilted your head back, eyes closed, allowing your body to float. Muscles ground down by days without food and water eased. The blisters on the soles of your feet no longer wallowed in pain.

The respite was needed. The river a soporific cocoon.

A splash forced your eyes open. Commander Wolffe was swimming out to the middle of the river, his strokes easy, his pace slow. The currents—even the tumultuous rapids—proved a pathetic obstacle to his strength. He ducked beneath the current.

One second. Two seconds. Three seconds…

His lung capacity was impressive. You stopped counting after 100.

The river continued to churn; seconds slipped by; a cloud drifted in front of the sun.

Your stomach clenched in uncertainty and you swam forward a few paces, eyeing the frothing currents. He couldn’t have drowned. Right? He wouldn’t have left you out here alone—

The commander broke through the surface, brushing dark curls back from his face, angling his face toward the sun. Lost in his own serenity. You exhaled your worry.

The hard lines of his constant scowl smoothed. The corners of his lips turned up. He drifted in the water, seemingly relaxed. An odd term to describe the intimidating commander. He seemed more human. No longer a soldier—no longer a potential ally to your people. Simply human.

You watched him for some time. Watched the way his body cut through the currents like a lightsaber through metal—smooth and undeterred. Effortless.

Perhaps it was the haze from the sun or exhaustion finally claiming your mind, but you quite liked the sight of Wolffe at ease.

Until he looked in your direction and caught you unabashedly staring. He swam over.

Hands planted firmly in the shifting sand, arms occasionally bumping, you both sat there. Together. It was the first time in days you felt a semblance of solace.

“You know,” you said quietly, “working with my people is strategically asinine.”

Wolffe cocked his head. “Is that so?”

“It is.” You watched a cloud distort, transitioning from a lizard to an oddly shaped oceanic animal. “My people have been at war with one another for decades. Your Republic inserting itself won’t solve our problems. Beating the Separatists might curb the fanatics for a few months, possibly a few years. But we will always devolve back to internal fighting.”

For years war had plagued your planet. It was a folly to hope for peace. To hope for the end of bloodshed and the arrival of stability. Peace.

The Republic’s interference, while appreciated and desperately needed, was a waste. A waste of effort and resources and—

“You’ll risk your lives for a planet dominated by inevitable strife.” Your fingers dug into the rocky sand, pain pricking beneath your fingernails. “It’s a waste. We don’t provide a military or political advantage. We won’t help your overall fight against the Separatists. You should save yourselves.”

The heat of his gaze on your face burned hotter than the sun. “Why are you telling me this?”

“Because…” You sucked in a sharp breath. Days lost in the tunnels and now in the jungle—the pessimistic realization that the Republic couldn’t save a people who refused to be saved—overwhelmed your tight control of your emotions. Tears threatened the corners of your eyes but you held them back, clearing your throat. “There are more important fights out there. You shouldn’t waste your lives on a doomed cause.”

Wolffe was silent for a long time. You glanced at him, observing the flex of his arms as he leaned back on his hands, the breadth of his shoulders, the hint of a tattoo on his ribs.

He was… Well, he was quite handsome. The realization was startling.

Roguish and dangerous amidst the shadows of the jungle, careful and resolute amidst the water and sun. His grumpiness and apathetic nature left for wanting. Yet beneath it, he was reliable and resourceful, selfless and driven.

His exterior may be rough; it warned others away. It would still be easy to love him, though.

The thought was unwelcomed so you banished it.

“I’m a soldier. My men are soldiers.” His tone was quiet yet steady. “We have a duty and we’ll see it through.”

“You’re more than just a soldier.” He frowned and you grimaced. “I mean: there’s nothing wrong with being a soldier. To choose to be a soldier requires bravery, courage, and a belief in a cause. It’s an admirable thing. But there is more to you.”

“And you know me so well.” It wasn’t a question, though careful curiosity laced his inflection.

“No.” You smiled away your embarrassment, entranced by the depth of the color in his eye. “But I do believe there is more to your humanity.”

“I chose. To be a soldier.” Wolffe held your gaze, his expression firm. Unwavering. “I could have deserted when I first left Kamino. But I chose to stay.” He hesitated, as if debating his next words. “I have a responsibility not only to my brothers, but to the beings of this galaxy. To protect them. And that responsibility extends to you and your people.”

The honesty in his tone was resolute and you smiled your appreciation. Wolffe studied you, his eyes dipping to your lips, quick in their return to your gaze before wandering the planes of your face. His perusal was slow, seemingly intent with a purpose unbeknownst to you.

The weight of his stare caressed your skin, its warmth softer yet more intense than the burning sun. A pleasurable tingle crawled up your spine, skimming your shoulders.

A breeze eddied along the river, twirling a few of his wettened curls, tossing one onto his forehead. Beneath the rays of the sun, the brown of his eye was darker, as if it were crafted from rain-soaked soil. He was so close you could smell the scent of his soap. So close you could reach for his wayward curl, lean into him and lick the streams of water easing their way down his throat.

Your heart beat a bit faster.

A cooler current reminded you of your position: naked in a river. It was a gentle nudge to break contact.

Turning your face toward the opposite embankment, you wrapped your arms around your shins, hugging your knees to your chest. And if your nipples were a bit tighter, sensitive, you blamed it on the chill of the water. It most certainly had nothing to do with Wolffe.

“You have a tattoo.” Another non-question weighted by his curiosity, and carrying a silent demand for information.

Resting your cheek on your arm, you grinned. “Your observational skills are quite acute, Commander.”

A slight smirk graced his mouth and he slid his gaze from your face to your back. You angled yourself out of the water so he could see the entirety of it.

“My people believe long ago that dragons guarded our planet. But over the millennia, the dragons died out.” You closed your eyes, breathing in the river. “We carve dragons into our doorposts as a symbol of protection. But also as a symbol of resilience. No matter what happens, we endure.”

“You have three.”

“To represent balance between the physical, emotional, and spiritual.” Wolffe hummed his intrigue, forcing you to assess his reaction. You weren’t necessarily interested in his approval, but you were curious by his observation. “In the dark, they glow. I can show you tonight.”

His brow arched and he gave a nod.

***

Hours later, fully clothed and sitting beneath the silvered light of Eluca’s two moons, you and Wolffe feasted on a pair of luminafruit.

Grown with a crustaceous shell requiring a vibroblade to cut it open, the fruit was a lucky find. Sweet and berry-flavored, it was much better than the dry ration bar Wolffe had offered.

High in water content, the nutrient-rich cream lining the shell’s interior soothed your throat and served as a balm to your dry skin. The best part of the fruit, though, were the five to eight pods of green, gelatinous pulp.

“I hope these are luminafruits,” you commented, chewing on one of the supposedly protein-dense pods.

Wolffe stopped midchew, scowling in your direction. “You said they were.”

“I said I thought they were.” You shrugged at the narrowing of his eyes. “I need to brush up on edible fruits and vegetables in this system. But I think I’m right.”

“And if they’re not?”

“We’ll probably die from chronic diarrhea and vomiting.”

Wolffe choked, shifting his scowl to the half-eaten fruit in his hands. He inspected it. Closely, carefully. You popped another pod into your mouth, enjoying the sight of the consternated man beside you.

After another minute of prolonged glaring and calculation, Wolffe sighed and caved into the ambrosial fruit. Hiding your grin, you looked above.

The stelliferous sky twinkled its indomitable vastness.

It reminded you of your predicament. Lost and alone on an uninhabited planet. Probably abandoned by your people, or considered a casualty of the cave-in. No one would find you and Wolffe. No one would search for you. You were one person, unimportant in the grand scheme—

“You told me you would show me your tattoo,” Wolffe interrupted your thoughts. He nodded to your back. “I’m expecting to be impressed.”

“Oh? I definitely did not say it was impressive.” You turned your back to him, shimmying your shirt up before glancing over your shoulder to watch him. “Just like I said. It glows.”

“Mm.”

While Wolffe studied your tattoo, you studied him. His expression remained guarded, closed-off. It was difficult to determine if he admired the intricacy in the white line detailing, or was bored.

“It’s not a bright glow,” you explained, staring ahead at the trees. “I wanted it to be soft and simple. Not a torchlight, or something crude like that. I wanted it to be like the bioluminescence that you would see in a cave.”

“It’s subtle.”

You smiled. “It’s supposed to be.”

“I like it.” The words were quiet, pensive. Like an admittance he hadn’t expected to speak aloud.

Words formed on your tongue—a question of disbelief—but they stalled at the soft brush of his finger along the base of your spine. You tensed. Your heart frolicked in your chest. Another graze of his finger and you released a shaky breath.

He was tracing the first dragon. Following the curve of its body down its tail and back up to its wings. His movements were calculated. Slow and purposeful, quietly curious. You held still.

In a languid pace, his finger rose higher, skimming the ridges of your spine. Goosebumps blossomed down your arms and he released a quiet chuckle, the sound low, raspy.

His touch was a gentle kiss to your heated skin; you wanted more of it, more of his soft touches, more of his slow, calculated perusal, more of his unwavering attention.

Your breathing slowed, your heartrate with it. A honeyed stream of warmth oozed from his touch. It slithered down your arms, loosening the tension in your limbs, to pool deep in your belly.

He grazed the sensitive spot at the base of your spine, so lightly and gently, you shivered.

Wolffe stopped and your eyes snapped open. Silence coiled between you both, weighted with unspoken words and uncertainty. Hesitating for a short moment, you shimmied your shirt back into place, ignoring the warmth in your cheeks and the slight throb between your legs.

“So, that’s my tattoo,” you wisely stated, turning around to face him.

The two moons painted the jungle in thick, inelegant strokes of various shades of silver. The same silver as the cybernetic of his eye. And while the silvered strokes of your surroundings lacked taste, they skillfully crafted the features of his face, heightening the curve of his nose, the strength of his jaw, the imposing breadth of his shoulders.

Wolffe was studying you, once again. His expression remained too elusive to discern.  

Clearing your throat to absolve the mounting silence, you laid back on the soiled earth. Wolffe joined you, resting a hand beneath his head.

Stars winked, knowingly. They seemed to share in a joke you weren’t privy to. It irked you.

He skimmed a finger against your hand. A simple, tickled touch. Emboldened by your lack of response, he did it again. Slowly, lightly, he circled his finger along the back of your hand.

“My brothers and general will find us,” he said, his tone firm. Assured. “Until then, you’re safe with me.”

A smile warmed your cheeks at the same moment your eyes closed. “I know.”

***

Wolffe was a complete and utter bastard.

His brothers had kept him well-informed of that fact over the years. He knew it. Everyone in the GAR knew it. He was a bastard. And tonight was further proof of it.

The moment he closed his eyes he was greeted by the sight of softly glowing ink delicately positioned on a beautifully molded spine. Greeted by three tiny dragons, no longer than his pinky finger and no wider than five centimeters.

Fuck him, the image was imprinted in his memory. And that image led to a dangerous thought.

A thought of his hands slowly squeezing your hips, his thumbs tracing light, teasing circles, your fingers curled into the soil, your lips parted in ecstasy.

A thought of him kissing along your spine, sucking on your neck. Finding every sensitive spot that made you shiver. Made you gasp. He would trace his tongue along the lines of those tiny dragons, knead his thumbs into your lower back, drag his tongue lower until he was drowning in your pleasure.  

At some point you would be on your back, your legs around his waist. He would kiss you—kiss you long and slowly, relish the feel of your hands in his hair and the rhythm of your two bodies, thrive in the heat of your cunt and the sound of your arousal easing his thrusts, enjoy the way you would lock your ankles behind his back to drag him closer, to take his cock deeper.

He would give you whatever you wanted. And he would give anything to spend long hours with your thighs on his shoulders and his face buried in your cunt, to massage your hips as he swallowed your release over and over.

The thought had lasted no more than thirty seconds before his conscience snapped him out of the dream.

It was rude of him. Disrespectful.

The two of you were in a dire situation. Separated from his battalion and your people. He knew the tunnels had fucked with you, and it was clear that the past day wandering the humid jungle had steadily gnawed at your wavering hope for rescue.

You were not in a good place. And he sure as fuck should not be thinking about you this way.

Wolffe scrubbed at his face, clenching and unclenching his jaw.

You trusted him—a man you didn’t know. And how did he repay your trust?

By strategizing the best way to effectively draw orgasm after orgasm from your trembling body.

You were kind and thoughtful, determined and driven. And he was the fucking prick who wanted to find the most sensitive spots on your body and edge you until you were limp in his arms.

He was grateful for the stars tonight. To keep his mind clear. And clean.

It was statistically improbable that his brothers and general would rescue you both tomorrow. The lack of communication suggested his men were searching the other side of the mountain range. But he didn’t doubt their ability to find him. He didn’t doubt his general.

He could only hope his belief in his men and general could appease your growing worry in the coming days. And if it didn’t, it was possible that you would turn to him for comfort. Late at night, exhausted from another day of enduring the heat, it was likely you would seek comfort in the form of an embrace.

He gave it a 92% possibility.  

And if you fell asleep in his arms… Well, he didn’t mind that possibility. He didn’t mind it at all.

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x fem!reader #commander wolffe x reader #my writings

[starryevermore]

all those chickens ✧ commander wolffe

angst city™ library | send in a request (consult request faqs first)

request: Star Wars request?  reader making Gen Z references while infiltrating a base and everyone is just “wtf” but as soon as they stop it’s all hands on deck coz reader is just silent and that ain’t normal so ⭐️PaNiC⭐️ turns out…there was a lil porg and they turned comms off to save it  - anon

pairing: commander wolffe x fem!reader

summary: wolffe does not understand all of the strange references you make to the culture of your home planet, earth. but, when you go silent on a mission, wolffe finds himself worried at the lack of communication. 

word count: 1,835

warnings?: reader is from earth, i’ll be honest there’s a fair mix of both millennial and gen z references in this but whatcha gonna do about it, not proofread

Commander Wolffe didn’t pretend to understand you. Trying to understand you was like trying to understand the Force—it only ever gave him a migraine so intense he would rather listen to C-3PO talk for hours on end without interruption. Or, perhaps, that was a bit extreme—no one could listen to that droid talk that long without wanting to bash their head through a wall. But, nevertheless, whenever Wolffe attempted to understand the strange things you would say, the references you would make to a culture only you were familiar with, it left him with more questions than answers.

After all, why were you doing something for the vine? What the hell was a “no bones” day and why was it being determined by a geriatric animal? (A pug? What the kark was a pug?) Why did you pick up a glass of blue milk and mutter “what is wrong with you? why are you blue?” before laughing like you told the most amazing joke in the galaxy? And never mind the words and phrases themselves you would use—“rizz”, “stan”, “yeet”, “bussin’”, “vibe check”, “I’m weak”, “main character energy”, “borg”. And don’t get him started on how you would end words with “-ussy”! 

It was one of the very few times that Wolffe questioned the Jedi General Plo Koon in his decision to have you join them. In Wolffe’s view, no matter what benefits you might bring to fighting the war, it was all substantially lessened by the fact that you didn’t make a bit of sense half the time. And don’t get him started about how you always seem shocked when he or his brothers didn’t understand whatever bantha shit you were going on about. 

“You wouldn’t last a day on Earth,” you’d muttered once when he questioned why you put on an accent and said “airport? I’m not going to the airport.” when Wolffe said you needed to report to the hangar. 

“I would sooner walk into an active battle zone without any weapons than I would step foot on your planet,” he’d said. 

“Weird flex but okay.”

He didn’t miss the flash of hurt on your face, though, he said that. It was that day that he learned your planet, in a galaxy far, far, away, had been destroyed and you were one of the very few survivors. And, well, while Wolffe might not have experienced a loss on the scale of billions, he did know loss. And he knew a thing or two about trying to keep the memory of lost loved ones alive. So, while he might not have understood every strange thing you said, he didn’t give you as much of a hard time about anymore. 

That said, it still confused the hell out of him everything you referenced something from your culture. Even now, as you joined the 104th on a mission and kept going on and on about things Wolffe could never dream of understanding. For a brief moment, you had even ran ahead of them, chasing after a group of porgs, until Wolffe ordered you back to his side. He couldn’t let you run out into a trap, after all.  

“Look at all those chickens!” you said, looking out the porgs roaming around. The little buggers seemed to have infiltrated the Separatist base on their own. It was almost funny, actually, imaging the little critters annoying the clankers. 

Comet looked at you, his head titled. His bucket shielded his facial expressions, but Wolffe was almost certain that Comet was looking at you like you said that the porgs were rancors or something equally wild. “Those are porgs?”

“It’s a reference to something on the foliage app,” Sinker said. He looked at you for confirmation. “Right?”

“It’s called Vine,” Wolffe grunted. When he looked back at you, he saw a smile on your face. His heart stuttered. (Why? You smiled all the time. It was almost annoying, how smiley you were.) “What?”

“You remembered. I thought you didn’t care when I babbled on about Earth things.”

“I neither have to care nor understand what you’re talking about to listen to you,” Wolffe said.

“I think you care,” you said. You bumped your shoulder against his. “You act like a big, strong wolf, but really you’re a sweet, little puppy. All bark, no bite.”

Wolffe barred his teeth, snarling at you, but it did little to stop the laughter echoing throughout the Wolfpack. You lifted your chin, smiling widely at him. Then, you raised your arm, your hand resting on top of his bucket, before you tapped it once, twice—pat, pat!

The Wolfpack’s laughter turned into near howls. Comet nearly doubled over. Booster slung an arm around your shoulder, tugging you closer to him. A spark rose in Wolffe’s chest. He wasn’t sure what he was more upset by—your teasing or one of his brothers touching you. 

“Warthog, Y/N, go find the control room and extract the information we need. The rest of us will deal with the clankers,” Wolffe grunted, trying to stamp out his frustration as they neared the control room in the Separatist base. 

He had no right to be upset, after all. Why would he? You were another member of his squad. You were a friend. That was it. Surely, there had to be some other reason that Wolffe was so bothered by this. Maybe it had something to do with it being so long since they were on leave. Maybe he was just missing companionship in general, and that was making him feel things toward you. You were, after all, the only woman he saw on a day to day basis. Yes. That’s what it was. It was nothing personal. 

…Right?

Wolffe kept his focus on scouting ahead, ignoring the laughter from his brothers. As he put some distance between himself and you, Comet jogged up to join him. Kriff. This wasn’t going to be good. 

His younger brother bumped his shoulder against Wolffe’s, and practically crowed, “Oh, Wolffe! You’re such a little puppy!”

“Watch it,” Wolffe growled. His grip on his blaster tightened, his knuckles turning white. “Focus on the mission.”

Sinker laughed. “C’mon, vod, how can we take you seriously when you’re all bark, no bite?”

“Oh, lay off him,” Boost said. Wolffe wanted to believe his brother was on his side, but Boost was, perhaps, probably the worst about teasing him. He knew Wolffe long enough to know all the ways to get under his skin, and he always took full advantage of it. “He just cares so much, he doesn’t know what to do with himself!”

Wolffe stomped ahead, feeling something akin to a petulant child, as his brothers’ laughter echoed around him. Why did they have to make this something it wasn’t? Why did they act like there was something there? 

But, why was there this…uneasy feeling settling over him? Wolffe’s hand dropped to his comm. You hadn’t said anything for a long time. Why was that? Usually, he couldn’t get you to shut up. You always had some sort of commentary, whether it be those ridiculous Earth references or it be you just babbling on about whatever it was you were doing at the moment. 

“Y/N, do you copy?” he asked into his comm. 

Silence. 

Panic settled deep in his chest. He repeated the question a second, then a third, time. He never got a response. 

“Warthog, is Y/N with you? She’s not answering her comm.”

“Uhh…”

Wolffe almost preferred the silence. An unsure answer…Well, that usually meant there had been some sort of trouble. And if you were caught in that trouble…Wolffe shuddered at the thought. You were part of his squad. You were someone he was supposed to look out for. Wolffe wasn’t sure if he could stand it if something happened to you. He didn’t want to lose another member of his squad. 

But…Well, it went deeper than that, didn’t it? If something happened…If he never got to see you smile again, if he never got to hear you laugh, if he never was left scratching his head at some strange thing you said, Wolffe’s life would feel incomplete. He would miss you. He would more than miss you. He would tear apart the entire galaxy if it meant getting revenge on whoever would hurt a hair on your head.

“Yes or no, trooper?” Wolffe barked. 

“Well, she was just here, sir. And now…she’s not.”

“What the kark is that supposed to mean?”

“I don’t know! I just looked up and she was gone!”

“Well, find her!” Wolffe snapped. 

As Wolffe turned to look for you, too, he shot at a couple of clankers that had rounded the corner before taking off in search of you. Kriff. Was he the only one whose brain fully formed? Why the hell would you just wander off like that? Why the hell wouldn’t Warthog immediately report that? Why the hell didn’t Warthog keep a closer eye on you? Anything could happen out here!

“What’s wrong?” Comet asked, firing at a clanker, as he saw Wolffe double back. “Are we retreating?”

“Warthog lost Y/N,“ he growled.

“Damn. Better go find your girl then,” Comet said. 

“She’s not—just, watch my six, okay?”

Thankfully, he didn’t need to go far. As he neared the control room, he saw blaster fire and a clanker fall, then heard your voice as you said, “There ya go, baby. Evil droid is all gone!”

“What the kriff do you think you’re doing?” Wolffe asked when he got nearer. 

“Was saving this little fella,” you said. You were cradling the porg in your arms as if it were a baby. When you looked up at Wolffe, your eyes were wide, your lips in a pout. He fought the urge to reach out, grab you by the face, and kiss you until you couldn’t breathe. “Can we keep him, please? He could be the mascot of the 104th!”

“…I’m going to pretend you didn’t ask that.”

“He’s just a baby! Say hi, baby!” you cooed. You lifted the porg, which squawked in Wolffe’s face. 

Wolffe reached out, grasping your arm in his hand, and began tugging you away. “C’mon, we got what we needed. Let’s get outta here.”

“But the baby—”

“…Take it up with the General.” Wolffe paused, then took a moment to look you over, make sure that you didn’t earn any injuries in your impromptu rescue mission. “And, Y/N…?”

“Yes?”

“…don’t ever go silent on me like that again.”

A smile tugged at your lips. “Even if it means you have to listen to my silly little Earth references?”

Wolffe almost held back, almost didn’t say what he was thinking. But, well…He really didn’t like it when he thought something had happened to you. And so he said, “I would rather hear your strange references than never hear from you again.”

And he meant every word. 

#commander wolffe imagine #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x fem!reader #commander wolffe x female reader #commander wolffe x y/n #commander wolffe fic #commander wolffe fanfiction #commander wolffe fan fiction #commander wolffe fanfic #commander wolffe fan fic #wolffe imagine #wolffe x reader #wolffe x fem!reader #wolffe x female reader #wolffe x you #wolffe x y/n #wolffe fic #wolffe fanfiction #wolffe fan fiction #wolffe fanfic #wolffe fan fic #starrywrites #starryevermore

[starlightrows]

9 — Admiral

Hiding In Plain Sight

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Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word count: 3.9k

Warnings: Non explicit sexual harassment, attempted assault, political extortion, antagonist is a racist piece of shit, some actual assault in defense

Summary: Admiral Sarkany decides to stick around after the recuse mission to “assist and oversee” your campaign to increase funding for all soldiers to have better thermal equipment

“You think it’ll work?” Slush asks

“I think if we show the frostbite and medical expenses it takes to treat frostbite, it will '' you tell him “You know what motivates those votes… money and blind patriotism”

He considers this with a contemplative look “Honestly, that’s true. Maybe they’ll actually listen to you” he says “And as much as I loathe to admit, Admiral Sarkany backing you up on it will probably help sell it too”

“Yeah, that is the only reason I’ve been letting him anywhere near my office” you sigh “I thought maybe he’d be less creepy once we were out of survival mode… but he’s ever creepier now that we’re back on base”

“I don’t like the way he looks at you Doc, and I’m not the only one” Slush says, with genuine concern in his voice

“Trust me, I don’t like it either. I don’t think he’s actually gonna do anything, but still” you give a little shake as a chill runs down your spine “The sooner we can get back to blasting clankers the better”

“I’ll drink to that sister” he laughs “just be careful, yeah?”

“I’m always careful,” you remind him, glancing up at the chronometer on the wall. “You better get out of here if you’re gonna make it to the hangar on time. You know Jag is probably already there waiting for you”

“Teaching the shiny patience” he grins “but yeah he’s probably pacing a hole in the ship by now. Catch ya later Doc”

You wave goodbye to Slush as he heads out, but he doesn’t get far.

“Oh! Didn’t see ya coming Commander” Slush bumps into Wolffe pretty much the second he opens the door,

“The Doc in?” Wolffe asks

“She’s all yours Commander” Slush grins slyly, making his way down the hall away from your office. Wolffe taps on the door frame, even though you saw the whole exchange.

“Need any help from me with that pitch for better thermal equipment?” He asks, closing and locking the door behind him.

“No, but I could use your help with something else” you smirk

“Yeah?” He grins devilishly, leaving his helmet on the small table by the door “And what might that be?”

You take a second too long to think of some cute quippy comeback to keep up the flirting, “Oh fuck it, just get over here”

He chuckles and steps around your desk as you stand from your office chair. His hands go straight for your hips, pulling you into his chest plate, and tilting his head just enough to catch your lips.

You place a hand on his shoulder and the other on his cheek, fully embracing his kiss. It feels like it’s been forever since the two of you could have a private moment like this. He’s solid and strong and warm against you. You could get lost in those lips. But you can’t.

You pull back just a bit and rest your head against his, breathing a little harder than usual. “I wish we had more time” you whisper

“I know” he says lowly “I was actually coming by to let you know I’m gonna be swamped the next couple days”

“So no sleepovers?” you chuckle

“Well. I didn’t say that, we just have to actually get some sleep” he smirks, kissing you again

“I’m not the one who takes off all my clothes the second I get back to the room” you giggle

“No. You just put on my clothes, you know good and well that’s worse” he nips at your jaw playfully

“Quit” you giggle “I’ve got an appointment with Admiral Sarkany in five minutes, and you need to be outta here before he’s knocking on the door”

“Why hasn’t he fucking left the base yet? Shouldn’t he be overseeing whatever is taking them so long to finish our battlecruiser?” He groans, pulling away from you and sitting on the edge of your desk

You sink back into your chair and scrub a hand over your face “He’s adamant that he be involved in the “corrective measures” to ensure the way his rescue mission was handled never happens again”

Wolffe rolls his eyes and shakes his head “We just had to get the most entitled Admiral in the Republic didn’t we” he grumbles

“Lucky us” you agree “the sooner I get this proposal done the better. I’m hoping once he’s signed off on it he’ll go back to his own silly little life and get off our asses”

“That would be nice. I’d love to fucking eat something without being critizied for my poor table manners” he stands and heads for the door, scooping up his helmet

“Things will go back to normal soon” you tell him, walking him to the door

“Mm… hope so” he grumbles, leaning down a bit to kiss your cheek “Might be asleep if you come over later”

“S’okay” you assure him “Don’t worry about me”

He nods and puts his helmet back on before opening the door and heading down the hall and away from the private offices. Leaving you to get everything ready for your appointment, and mentally prepare yourself to deal with Admiral Sarkany for the next several hours.

Admiral Sarkany has the most massive superiority complex you’ve ever encountered, and you’ve spent your entire career in the military. He talks over you, corrects nearly every word out of your mouth, and talks down not only on you but on the men you serve with as well.

“The clone's thermal gear is sufficient. It’s not worth the millions of credits we would need to give each of them a coat they’ll never wear before they die” He says matter of factly

You grit your teeth and have to bargain with yourself not to rip out his tongue with your bare hands. “Would it not be more economic to have a few thousand units of thermal gear fabricated for use, if and when, troops are deployed to sub zero planets”

“Perhaps” the Admiral says, eyeing you up and down “And how else might we cut back on these manufacturing and distribution costs?”

“For one thing they should be standard. Civilian soldiers and Kaminoan born soldiers should all have the same access to the game grade of military equipment. That way we don’t have to special order anything” You’ve already explained this exact concept to him six different times this afternoon

The Admiral rolls his eyes and then immediately places his gaze back onto your chest, exactly where you don’t want it to be.

“I think that’s enough for today, Captain. I do believe the civilian soldiers such as you and I need better thermal equipment. We deserve it for our sacrifice for the good of the republic. But the clones do not” he says with finality

“With all due respect sir. I am not finished with my campaign to get better gear for all soldiers, and I will be continuing with that approach” you say, standing hurriedly and showing him to the door

Thank the maker, he does collect the few papers he brought and makes his way towards the door. “Captain, I am still planning to oversee this campaign. You need my testimony to make a case. You might consider showing me an extra measure of kindness or otherwise offering benefits for helping your cause”

That turns your stomach. Whatever this disgusting letcher is insinuating, you are having none of it. You have to remind yourself, he’s a superior officer. Breaking all of his teeth equals a court martial and dishonorable discharge.

“Have a good evening Admiral” you say sternly, opening the door and glaring at him with a cold unyielding stare.

Admiral Sarkany, takes just an extra moment to linger in your doorway, like he was considering saying something else nasty or offensive. But he doesn’t, instead he walks out and goes off on his way. You shut the door loudly, and lock it behind you.

You sit at your desk, putting your head in your hands. You’ve got a headache from listening to that Admiral talk out of his ass all day long. This is going to be a long and annoying process to get this campaign under way and the proposal into the senate.

Eventually after you deem that enough time has passed and you’ve grown so fatigued from staring at your own handwriting that you can’t get your eyes to focus. You stand from your chair and pop your back with a slight groan and start tidying things up for the night.

You sneak off to Wolffe’s quarters and find them empty, as promised. You don’t bother trying to wait up or even do much in the way of getting yourself ready for bed. You just strip out of your uniform and put on one of his shirts and flop down onto the mattress. You are out like a light.

At some point in the night Wolffe returns to his quarters. Finding the lights off and hearing your light breathing coming from the direction of the bed. He makes an effort to be quiet as he takes off his own armor and fatigues. He lays down beside you and kisses the top of your head before knocking out too.

—

Four days of this shit. Working your ass off, listening to Admiral Sarkany dispute every point you make, use every slur you can think of when referring to the men, and blatantly stare at your body. Every night you go back to Wolffe’s room and either pass out immediately or sit there with him with your head on his shoulder while he tells you about the stress he’s under.

To be fair, Wolffe is extremely stressed out and exhausted at the moment. Now that he’s back from medical leave and the 104th is technically back on assignment, he’s got a backlog of paperwork and war council Commanders and Generals and Admirals to listen to bicker and gripe all day long. Admiral Sarkany is stalling the 104th. You know it. Wolffe knows it. And the entire war council knows it. But he’s the highest ranking officer in this corps.

Wolffe asks how you’ve been. How your proposal is going, if Admiral Sarkany is only stalling the 104th deployment to participate in your campaign? You tell him part of the truth. That the proposal is going nowhere fast and that Admiral Sarkany is far more of a hindrance than a help at this point. But you don’t tell him how much the Admiral belittles you. Objectifies you. Or any of the terrible things he says about the men to you. Wolffe doesn’t need to hear all of that right now.

This morning you don’t feel very rested, but that isn’t unusual for you, a good strong cup of caf should take that edge right off. Wolffe is already gone by the time you wake up, so you get yourself dressed and head down to the mess to join some of the guys for breakfast and caf.

“Doin’ okay there Doc?” Cinder asks, taking in your particularly foul expression as you sip your caf.

“I would gnaw off my left leg to avoid working with that fucking Admiral again today” you grumble

“He’s looking at you” Cricket says, looking over your shoulder. You know better than to turn around, instead you watch Cricket and Cinder’s eyes to get a clue as to what’s going on over there.

“Well?” Slush asks them

“He’s just… staring” Cinder says

“Like in the cave” Cricket says coldly “Gives me the creeps”

“Staring at me in a I’m gonna harvest your organs kind of way… or in a I’m going to frame you for a crime and have you dishonorably discharged kind of way?” You ask, squirming a little in your chair

“Who’s harvesting your organs?” Sinker sits down next to Cricket with his own tray of food

“Apparently the Admiral” Slush informs him, as Boost takes the seat next to him

“Don’t worry Doc, we’ll avenge you when we find your body” Boost grins

You throw him a dirty look “Keep talking, I’m not gonna crack your back next time we have to do another night sleeping on the ground”

“Ah come on Doc. He may be creepy but I don’t think he’s actually gonna hurt ya” Boost says digging into his food

“No, he’s just gonna spout his biggoted rhetoric and stare at my tits for the next several hours. Almost makes me wish he would harvest my organs” you shake your head and drain your caf cup.

“The sooner that campaign proposal is done the sooner he’ll leave. You’ve got this Doc” Slush tries to be encouraging.

You grumble a thank you and bid them all a good day, before grabbing another cup of caf to take with you to your office. Now that it’s been pointed out, you can feel his eyes on you as you leave the mess hall. It follows you, like he’s haunting your steps. You walk quickly to your office and feel your heartbeat quicken as you get closer and closer to the door.

Moment you get the door open, you slam it closed behind you and lean back against the door. You wait to have the door knocked on or kicked in behind you, but it doesn’t come. The sound you hear is your heart

hammering away in your chest and blood rushing in your ears.

“Fuck” you mumble. This is getting ridiculous.

You sit down at your desk and try to get started working on your data pad, not even two minutes into working there’s the knock you were dreading to hear. You wince and call out your permission for entry.

Admiral Sarkany strolls in with a data pad and pinched face. The moment he closes the door he starts talking. And he doesn’t stop talking for nearly six hours. By the time you realize lunch time has come and gone, and it’s nearly dinner time; your head is throbbing and your patience is wearing thin.

Finally you cut him off “Admiral Sarkany, with all due respect, this is still my campaign. I appreciate your assistance in this matter and your testimony will still be greatly appreciated when it reaches the senate floor. But at present, our fundamental disagreement on how to present and approach this campaign is preventing me from making any headway with it”

His beady eyes narrow at you

“Young lady I—”

“Sir. I am a medical officer. A soldier. I’m not a politician. Spending days on end debating how to propose how to fix a problem is not time well spent in my line of work” you grit out, angered by him trying to interrupt you and belittle you “I will send you the necessary documents to finish you testimony. But I do not think this proposal will gain any further benefit from our collaboration”

“Stand at attention Captain” he barks

Out of reflex you do it.

“Your pretty little mouth is going to get you into trouble Captain. Remember your place and remember who you are speaking to. If you make me unhappy not only will I revoke my testimony for your proposal, I’ll lobby against it. And if you don’t clean up this little mess you’ve made here today, I’ll have you shipped off to serve on a grunt squad in a hot zone” he stands over you. Not even yelling like a drill Sergeant. It’s almost calm but with a malevolent, hateful tone.

“Answer me Captain” he says

You break form and look up at him. He’s expecting something. You’re confused. Clean up this little mess you’ve made here. What the fuck does that mean? Unless. No. Absolutely not. This can not be happening.

“Admiral Sarkany if you are asking me what I think you are asking me to do, I am telling you right now that I will put you in the fucking ground” you are seething with rage.

He laughs in your face “Yeah. Good luck with that. You really want to do time for slandering a highly decorated admiral of the Grand Army of the Republic? Or do you want to fix this right here, right now? This doesn’t have to be difficult”

This really is happening. This guy is serious. And standing between you and the door. But you don’t have a choice, not really. So with no regard for what consequences may befall you, you take a step forward into him, letting believe you’re actually gonna cave. And then jam your fist into his windpipe.

He stumbles back, choking and gasping for air. For good measure you grab your desk chair and literally fling it at him before sprinting for the door and taking off down the hallway.

Your mind is racing. You just physically assaulted an Admiral. Fuck. You’re gonna get discharged. Or go to prison. Fuck. And you have information on him, what if he has you killed?

You have to tell someone. But who to tell? Anyone that you tell what just happened could get hurt or in trouble too. And where it might mean prison or a potential hit put out on you, punishment for any of the men is being decommissioned…

But you have to tell someone. You’re panicking and still frantically trying to put as much distance between yourself and your office as possible. You barrel through an open door and realize you’re in the hanger.

“Hey Doc!” Someone calls out. You whip around in fear and see it’s Slush working on touching up the paint on the 104th ships. He looks at you, seeing how out of breath and frazzled you look. He knows something’s wrong. “Doc?”

“Where’s General Plo?” You ask him

“In a meeting I think… what’s going on?” Slush approaches you

“Fuck” now you’re really panicking “Fuck… where’s Wolffe?”

“In that meeting. Captain. What is going on?” Slush asks

“You never saw me. You hear me? I was never here. I promise I’ll explain everything later” you bark at him, backing away to find somewhere else to hide. The mere idea of being caught talking to one of your squad mates and having them be decommissioned because of that, you’d rather die.

You turn on your heel and go back the way you came while Slush calls after you. You don’t know where to go. You can’t go back to your quarters. What if he looks for you there? How is there nowhere to hide on a massive base like this? Where could you possibly hide that he won’t look for you?

You find yourself creeping through the halls towards the officers quarters. No one would think to look for you in your commanding officers private room. So you key in the code and lock the door behind you. To your surprise the room is not empty.

Wolffe is standing there having just changed back into his armor and fatigues after needing to wear his formal garments for the meeting today. He’s as surprised to see you as you are to see him.

He gives you a look “You okay?”

You lean back against the door and realize you’re starting to hyperventilate. Your head is pounding from the collective exhaustion of the last few days and the overwhelming amount of adrenaline of what happened today.

Wolffe stays calm but walks towards you. “Hey. Focus up” he says “Breathe” He reaches out and holds you at the crooks of your elbows. You latch on to him, grounding yourself while you work to take deep breaths and get control of your emotions and your body, at least enough to communicate what’s going on. You don’t want to tell him. Him most of all. You’d never forgive yourself if something bad happened to him because of you. You feel sick to your stomach and tears welling in your eyes.

“Hey. Right here” he says tapping his cheekbone underneath his brown eye. “Focus and breathe”

You nod and continue the breathing exercise, until finally you’re calmed enough to get some words out.

“I need help” you manage to get out

“Okay. Tell me how I can help” he says, staying calm and present

“I… I’m going to be arrested or discharged” you lip wobbles

“Why do you think that?” He gives your arms a squeeze

You hesitate before just coming right out and saying it “I punched Admiral Sarkany in the throat… and threw a chair at him”

That is… not what Wolffe was expecting you to say. He’s honestly a little shocked. Everyone wants to punch that guy in the face or eject him into space… but you actually did. He knows you. He knows, you know the consequences of such actions. He knows you would never do something like that… unless

“What did he do?“ he asks, an icy chill creeping into his voice as he begins to piece together what likely happened

You swallow the lump in your throat and finally let the brimming tears slip down your cheeks “He got angry at me when I asked him to take a step back from the campaign. He cornered me in my office and offered me a choice…”

Wolffe’s heart feels like it is made of lead, and his blood boils. Now he’s the one that needs to remember to breathe and keep calm. You don’t need him in a blind rage right now. Instead he pulls you away from the door and into his chest. He holds you tight against him and squeezes his eyes shut.

“You’re not going to be arrested” he says confidently

“Wolffe… I’m sorry… I promise I didn’t—“ you try to explain through tears

“It doesn’t matter sweetheart. You did the right thing” he assures you. He still wants to tear the admiral's limbs off but he knows that you need him more right now.

“Come on, go sit down” he tells you, gesturing towards the bed “I’m gonna com General Plo”

You nod and sit on the edge of his bed while gets on the coms and explains to General Plo that he needs to speak with him urgently. Never being one to brush off the needs of his team, General Plo dismisses himself from the meeting he was in and goes quickly to Wolffe’s quarters.

Even as he approaches the door, he senses many emotions running high inside the room. Anxiety, fear, shame, hatred, guilt. General Plo knocks on the door and is not at all surprised to see you there just behind Commander Wolffe.

“Commander. Captain” he addresses you both “How many I be of assistance?”

Wolffe invites General Plo to take a seat and encourages you to tell him everything. So you do. Everything from the moment he started staring at you in the cave until today where you had to defend yourself. General Plo nods along as you explain, asks a clarifying question when appropriate, and most importantly listens.

Wolffe is appalled to hear that this harassment has been going on for days and you haven’t told him, but he says nothing. Not the time.

“General. I know I probably shouldn’t have thrown a chair at him and I should have been telling someone that he was leering at me but I—“

“No Captain” General Plo says calmly “It is not your responsibility to police how others conduct themselves. And someone should have hit him with a chair a long time ago”

That makes you smile a little, and makes you feel better that you’re being taken seriously.

“Before we leave this room. I am going to ask you to repeat the entire story. Leave nothing out. I will record it and present it to the high war council. You will not be punished for defending yourself Captain” General Plo assures you

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#Commander Wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #Commander Wolffe x fem!reader #Hiding In Plain Sight

[thefact0rygirl]

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[dancingwiththeplanets]

Wolffe Pup

Commander Wolffe x fem!reader

masterlist

Summary: You introduce a very timid Wolffe to your adopted daughter and it's love at first sight.

a/n: I've decided to make my annual reappearance with no explanation as to where I've been and a 5k Wolffe x fem!reader story to melt your hearts. Enjoy ;)

Your fingers fidget anxiously with each other. The platform is busy. Of course, it’s always hectic the first few hours after a campaign, but maybe everything seems busier today with all the thoughts racing through your head. 

Today was the day Wolffe was going to meet your babygirl. Your sweet, little Aurora.

The thought brings tears to your eyes. She's everything to you, that bubbly little thing. The biggest cheeks, toothless smile, and deep brown eyes that somehow remind you of Wolffe’s. 

He wasn’t even a part of your life when you went through the adoption process. Or even when you’d finally taken her home. You and Wolffe met a few months into your journey through single motherhood. You were young, yes, but stable enough in your job, and always yearned to care for a little baby and give her all the love someone else couldn’t.  

Wolffe never pushed for you to share your daughter’s life with him, and you made sure to give yourself the time to get acquainted with her first. To build the bond and love between you two, even though you felt it from the first time you held her. And Wolffe was so patient and understanding with you wanting to take your time introducing him to Aurora. But at the same time, you shared so much with him because you knew he loved it, and it just warmed your heart how calm and attentive he was, with a little smile on his face, when you showed him pictures of her little growing body and shared with him how she was doing. You knew he already felt like she was a part of his life. 

So here you waited, nervously. Biting your nails now. You’ve tucked yourself into your corner, the ‘safe place’ Wolffe designated as yours long ago, saying it was too chaotic in this place for you to ever be wandering around searching for him and vice versa. Though you have a sneaking suspicion his orders have something to do with the time he found you surrounded by a bunch of his flirting troopers- shiny’s, obviously- far away from your agreed waiting point that time. That’s not a mistake any knowing trooper would make with the Commander’s girl. And unfortunately for them, Wolffe didn’t seem to care that Boost had definitely put them up to it, snickering at the shiny’s petrified faces as their Commander marched in their direction and fortified himself in front of you. 

You really did try not to laugh. But they did look like they’d just found out they were committing treason or something. It would have been extremely funny if you didn’t catch sight of that frightening scowl on Wolffe’s face as he turned away from them, before softening it to a look of concern. 

“If they bothered you, I’ll assign them to hard labor in the cargo bay for 10 months, not 5. Just say the word.” 

“They weren’t bothering me, Wolffe.” You smiled, encouraging the frown to disappear from his stern face. 

He let out a huff, “Well that makes one of us.”

Your cheeks tug upwards just thinking about him, about how irritated he’d been with the men– pretty furious actually. Shouting out retributions and threatening to sanction them all to Fox for prison guard duty. He’s truly not that harsh though. You were held tight under his arm, wide-eyed and shocked by his reaction as he shouted, to the point where you had to intervene and tell him it was just harmless fun. His gloved fingers were firm around your arm, unhappy eyes softening as he looked at you regrettably before finally yelling at his troopers to get lost and whispering something to you about encouraging them too much. 

The memory makes you giggle, and warms your cheeks as you remember to relax and just wait for your Commander to come by for you. Butterflies in your stomach and a shy smile on your face, it’s hard to contain your giddiness, you’re just so excited to see him… It’s a special day. 

You finally spot a distinctly marked helmet emerging from the crowd. Not quite the trooper you were hoping for, but you’re pleased nonetheless. Where there’s a Boost, there’s usually a Wolffe. 

You smile brightly at the trooper as he approaches, thankful to see that he’s made it home safely. You know how much these boys mean to their Commander. 

He raises his hand up in an awkward wave, looking a little stiff as he walks over to you and pulls off his helmet. You would be concerned about his behavior if it weren't for the smile that he tossed your way, albeit laced with discomfort.

You raise your eyebrows at him in a ‘what did you do now’ manner, assuming Wolffe’s tardiness is because of him. 

“Uh, hey vod'ika.” He says, coming to a stop in front of you. 

“Hi Boost, successful mission?” You ask, smiling politely.

“Yeah, um, look…I need to apologize for… something,” He says, his hand raising to nervously scratch at the back of his neck. 

You frown a bit, confused but ready to let him say his piece, “Okay?”

“It’s uh, about Wolffe.”

He hesitates, eyes darting up and down like he’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact with you. You give him an encouraging nod, attempting a small smile again despite the pit in your stomach growing bigger, “Okay?”

“It’s just that, uh,” He clears his throat, adjusting the hold on his helmet. “Well w-we knew the Commander was, uh,” Another grunt to clear the windpipe, “Just, uh, that he was going to be meeting your-uh…your daughter,” This time he coughs, seeming to struggle with the admission, “Uh, you know, whenever it was that we got back, that is..”

The smile was wiped clean off your face halfway through that sentence.

“Okay.”

You can see the panic flashing in his eyes, noting your less than pleased reaction already, but wanting to quickly explain the situation, “And..um… well we may have given him,” Another cough, “A little bit too hard of a time about meeting her.”

Insult and defensiveness immediately boils your blood, your frown quickly morphing into a scowl, “What about meeting my daughter?”

His eyes widen immediately, “Oh! No no - osik - no, it’s nothing like that, it's just- ah,“ He sighs, covering his face with both hands and grumbling curses in Mando'a. “Look I’m so sorry it’s just… he was all excited and-”

“-I know he was excited, is he not anymore?” You ask, anxiety and worry making you sound more angry than shaken - which you definitely feel.  

Boosts face morphs further into panic at your distressed reaction, quickly raising his hands in a harmless motion, “No! He's been so looking forward to it! Beaming with pride, ma’am..” He rushes, sounding desperate. “But we… the pack I mean, uh…we may have sort of insinuated that… well that…”

“That what?” You ask, sounding more hurt now. 

He winces, his voice sounding small as he mutters, shamefully, “..that your baby would burst into tears at the sight of his face.” 

Your mouth hits the floor, utterly mortified, “You what!” 

“We’re so sorry, vod’ika.” A second remorseful voice speaks behind you. You whip around to see Comet, approaching you slowly and looking like a kicked puppy.

“C-Comet! Boost! You know how insecure he is about his scar!” You snap, your own nerves getting the better of you. “What in the galaxy did you say?” 

“It was harmless teasing at first! Honest!” Boost defends, jumping back in. “Just stupid stuff about wearing a baby harness over his armor and being a dad and…and he laughed along at first, seemed to like the teasing actually..the boys caught sight of his datapad and, look it was just harmless teasing!”

You sigh, trying to level your disappointment and anxiety. “What’s this about his datapad?” 

“His..? Oh, the picture of you. A-and your daughter. Ma’am.”

“Her name is Aurora.” You grumble, the sadness growing in your chest. 

“Right,” Comet says, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Aurora, that’s a beautiful name.” He says, an apologetic and guilty smile on his face. “She’s beautiful vod’ika.” 

Your heart tugs a little at the words. She is. The most beautiful. 

“Well I know that.” You still scoff, though your temper calms down a bit. “Wolffe..showed you a picture?”

Comet rubs the back of his neck, nervously looking at Boost, “Not exactly, we grabbed his datapad when we caught sight of the resting screen image. Sorta, passed it around out of his reach.”

“Which picture?” You ask reluctantly. Wolffe saved a picture of you and Aurora as his resting screen image? When had you even sent him one?

“A very beautiful picture.” Comet smiles, “the two of you cuddling or something. She’s laughing.”

Your heart flutters. 

Oh, that picture. 

On his last excursion you’d woken up to a message he’d sent after you fell asleep. The 104th had decided to head out early the next morning into a droid-heavy sector on an already hostile planet. You knew you probably wouldn’t be hearing from him for a few days, which was enough on its own to keep you seriously on edge without the added risk, but he promised he’d be careful and told you he loved you.

You didn’t even think twice about pulling your babygirl up close and snapping a photo. Come home safe to us, you wrote. It was you and your Aurora…she had a big smile on her face as you tickled her, her ear gently caught between your teeth as you bared them like a rascally pup chewing on its favorite toy. It’s one of your favorite pictures of the two of you ever, so silly and tender at the same time, Rory shining front and center in that one, and he set it as his datapad screen.. 

You couldn't help the little smile, just imagining him shouting orders in the strategy room or walking through the hanger holding the datapad, image flashing to life every time he lifted it in his grasp.  You have no doubts, you want that man in your little girl's life. 

These thoughts bring you to sigh, before scowling at the boys in front of you. These di’kuts. You know deep down how much Wolffe has been looking forward to this. It was something you never would have expected from the hot-blooded Commander. You’re not even sure he realized how invested he was in what you had. You think most women venturing into single parenthood would feel confused, maybe threatened, meeting a man who so desperately wants to be a part of little Aurora’s life in any way you shared with him, even if he tried to suppress it and not put that on you. 

He was so patient and understanding with you wanting to take your time introducing him. But at the same time, you shared so much with him because you knew he loved it, and truthfully it just warmed your heart how smiley he would get when you showed him pictures and told him how she was doing. You knew he already felt like she was a part of his life. 

Which evidently now was a problem. “You guys,” you sighed, rubbing your hands over your face, “This is not good I-I don’t know what to do-“

“Please, please, don’t be mad at him if he’s weird, vod’ika,” Comet pleads, bringing you back to the moment, and reminding you that now, you were extra pissed. “It was our fault! You-” he sighs, pain filling his features, “-You should have seen his face when the words left Sinker’s mouth, we got in his head.”

Boost groans at Comet’s words, distress covering his face at the apparent horrific memory. 

“What exactly did he say?” You grit, still not sure if you’re feeling more defensive over Wolffe or your baby right now. 

The two look at each other, deciding who has to be the one to say it. Comet, being the youngest, gets the short end of the stick and crumbles under his brother's glare. 

He sighs, defeated, before speaking, “That the second the baby was in Wolffe’s arms and she got a good look at his scar and the eye she’d burst into tears kicking to get away from him and then his eye would have one of those stress malfunctions and twist around in weird directions before smoking so he’d have to pop it out and then he’d drop it because he’s so uncoordinated and it’d roll on the floor so he’d have a gaping hole in his face which does actually look very frightening and he’d be trying to catch his robotic eyeball as it rolled on the floor and she would be so mortified and scarred that she could never look at him without screaming again.”

The two are silent as you process the words. 

You can’t even say anything. Hands rubbing your eyes and slowly trying to catalog the damage in your head, before sighing, exasperated. You look back up at the boys, both of whom have their heads hung low and regret painting their features, having relived the admittedly vivid horror story concocted by their brother. 

“Right. And where. Is. Sinker.” You demand. 

“Hiding from you, ma’am.”

—————————

Thankfully, Wolffe met you with the same loving embrace and press to your forehead that he always did after a mission. 

Everything was reassuringly normal, until you got into the lift of your building.

“Um…Wolffe?” You ask calmly, noticing the nervous tap of his fingers against his belt, each gloved finger making a loud, tacky noise of resistance with the contact, echoing in the silent elevator. 

"Yes?" He turns to you, immediately stopping the action as well as the swaying on his feet and giving you his complete attention.

“Is everything okay?”

His eyes widen a bit in realization. “Oh. Yes, ma’am! Uh, I-I mean yes, beautiful.” A not so convincing smile spreads across his face.

You arch an eyebrow at him, hoping to lighten the tension with a playful, “Yes ma’am, huh?” 

“S-sorry, love.” He says, attempting a small smile while he adjusts something on his wrist vambrace, “It was a long tour I…I guess I’m a little tense. It was hard on the men and…there was just a lot to do.” 

You smile at him understandingly, the lift door opening. 

Almost there…

You unlock the door. 

We can do this Wolffe… 

“C-cyare,” Wolffe stutters, “Look, m-maybe we should do this another time. I- I don’t think I’m up for this-” He frowns, lowering his gaze to the corner of the tight space.

“Wolffe, seriously, that’s enough.” You frown, sounding unimpressed. “What are you worried about?”

“W-what if she doesn’t like me?” 

“Oh my god.” 

“No” he sighs, “You don’t understand I’m- just look at me. I’m not soft, I’m not pretty, I don’t know how to sing lullabies for crying out-” He huffs, “I don’t even know what babies like to talk about!” 

“Wolffe, seriously, I love my daughter to death, but you are giving an infant old way too much intellectual credit.” You say rolling your eyes. 

Those boys are dead. 

Wolffe sighs again, running a hand over his hair, “But love, you…you don’t understand. She’s going to take one look at me and that will just be it. And then-” His eyes widen, dread swallowing his facial expression, “O-oh my God, my eye. The scar, the cybernetic, wh-what if it scares her-” Wolffe’s face is flashing with absolute horror as he builds up the worst possible scenario in his mind.

Shit, shit, shit. 

What to do..what to do…think...

“Come on,” You say with finality. If you know one thing about your Commander. It’s that the best way to have him deal with a situation, is to give him no other choice than to face it in the heat of battle. 

Your hand hovers over the open button on the control panel. 

“Wait!” Wolffe suddenly snaps, hand snatching your wrist in place.

“Ahh!” You scream, startled. Your arm immediately shoves Wolffe on the shoulder, his form swaying only slightly from the movement “Wolffe! Seriously, you are making me so tense right now!”

“I-I’m sorry it’s just,” He sighs, ”I-if she hates me...please don’t break up with me.”

“Wolffe,” You laugh in exasperation, starting to feel more sympathetic for your poor boyfriend. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you..” You say, lying straight through your teeth. “But I need you to know everything’s going to be fine. I promise. My girl’s got good taste, and she already knows your face. I’ve shown her a million times. I know she’ll love you.”

Wolffe stares down at you with soft eyes. Looking away briefly before straightening up and giving you a gentle nod. 

Your stomach flips with nerves and excitement as you step through the opening door. There’s no way this could go wrong. Not with your Aurora. Certainly not with your Wolffe. No matter how hard and unyielding this man may be in war, even with his brothers, it’s his love and responsibility over them that makes him so stern. He’s protective, he’s caring. 

You try to conceal your own excitement, seeing your little bundle all cozied up in the Nurse Droid’s pouch. Wow, you’ve missed her. You press a gentle little kiss to her head, but don’t want to give Wolffe long enough to start backing for the door before he meets her. 

“Wolffe…this is Aurora,” You say, calmly moving a sleeping Aurora from the nurse-droid’s pouch and into Wolffe’s tense arms. His eyes widen in surprise, arms quickly shifting to find a way to hold her as the slight weight of her slowly lets into his arms. 

His eyes dart around in panic, looking at you nervously for direction. 

“Introduce yourself, Wolffe,” You say quietly, almost unable to contain your excitement at this image before you. “She’s been waiting to meet you.”

Wolffe’s body relaxes slowly. You recognize the almost invisible deep breath he takes in before letting his eyes land on your daughter's sleeping face, and it’s almost as if her peaceful state transmits into Wolffe’s nerves the second he lets himself look at her, really look at her. 

“A-Aurora.” He mutters, more to himself, causing a smile to creep onto your face. You can hear the calm slipping into him like a trance. 

“Yeah,” You almost whisper, placing a hand on her blanket in his arms, the other resting supportively on the Wolfpack emblem on his pauldron, hoping to further distribute a semblance of calm between the two of them. The last thing you need is for Aurora to scare Wolffe away by waking up in his arms screaming. 

That would take some work to repatch. 

“I don’t really call her Aurora much anymore, though.” You whisper, eyes captivated by the image of your girl engulfed delicately by Wolffe’s strong arms. 

“O-oh?” He asks, almost distractedly, glancing up at you before looking back down at the little warm bundle again. 

“Yeah,” You hum, “I’ve been calling her Rory.” 

You hear a deep yet sharp inhale, delivered almost laboriously slow so as not to unsettle the sleeping baby in his arms, “R-Rory?” He asks, his deep voice losing a bit of its composure. 

You grin, finally glancing up at Wolffe, having forgotten to make sure he was comfortable with the encounter so far. And you weren’t all that surprised when he didn’t meet your gaze, still looking at your daughter’s peaceful features. “Like…like roar-y?” He gulps, eyes wide like he’s looking straight into a bright star, “Like a-”

“-Like an animal roar,” You giggle under your breath, “Yeah, I thought you might hear it that way. But it’s R-o-r-y, Rory.”

You look up at Wolffe again, expecting to see a look of amusement on his face, but you’re slightly alarmed to see his features tense, lips pulled back into a tight line and jaw tightly set as he continues gazing at her.

“O-oh.. Wolffe, I’m sorry is this too much? A-are you okay?-” “-That’s the cutest fucking name I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You pull your lips between your teeth, trying not to give away that you’re absolutely elated, surging with love and excitement, unable to hide the smile breaking out on your face. 

“She’s…she’s so beautiful. So much more than in the pictures.” Wolffe mutters, “She looks just like you.”

You can’t suppress the laugh that escapes you at that, muffling it as best you can in front of sleeping Rory. “Wolffe, I didn't give birth to her.”

“She still looks just like you.” He mutters seriously, shaking his head in disbelief at your little girl. 

You admire your boyfriend holding your daughter in his arms. A Commander, hardened by war and tragedy in his life, gently caressing your daughter's forehead with his thumb, you don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it. Her little head small enough in his palm that he can support her neck and reach all the way around her to stroke her features. Your heart swells with heavy emotions, bringing tears to your eyes at the raw beauty of this moment.

You hate to interrupt them, but Rory runs on her own clock, and evidently…”It’s pretty late Wolffe,” You murmur, leaning up whisper in his ear. “I think Rory needs to rest in the nursery now.” 

“O-oh,” He says, shaking his head gently as if coming out of a daze. Yup, you’ve definitely lost your boyfriend to your daughter, and you are totally and completely okay with it. “Of course.” He looks down at Rory and then to your arms, awkwardly leaning forward for you to take her but not quite sure how to maneuver her without disturbing her slumber. However, he looks slightly heartbroken that his brief time with her is up. 

“Why don’t you take care of her, I’ll show you where to go so you know where you can find her,” You say gently, adding an encouraging smile at the end. 

He straightens up, nodding dutifully at the responsibility and taking extra care to follow you down the hallway into Rory’s nursery. 

He knows where the room is already, but he’s not going to argue for you to take the little girl away from his arms. When you reach her crib, he’s hesitant to place her down, but with some light instruction he settles her in easily. Admittedly it does take some extra coaxing for you to pull him out of there, reassuring him for the umpteeth time as you close the door that no she does not need any blankets and yes she will be perfectly fine. 

“You’re closing the door?” He asks, bewildered at the barrier you’ve placed between yourselves and Rory. “But what if-”

“Wolffe,” You stop him, bracing him with a hand on each shoulder, “I promise you with all my heart that she’s okay in there. Now, come with me,” You guide him to your room, just a few steps down from your daughters, and lead him to his side of the bed. 

He immediately starts removing his armor, having spent the night here with you enough times for the motions to feel natural upon entry. Aurora always spent those nights with your mom or sister, few as they were. She was so little, and you were still getting to know Wolffe when you adopted Rory. You wanted to make sure it felt right to introduce them before you did. 

“Here,” You say, bringing the monitor from your bedside table around to him. “Listen.”

He takes the device in his hands with furrowed brows as he sits on the edge of the bed, looking curiously at it. You squat down in front of him, reaching for the volume knob and making sure it’s turned up a little bit more than usual. You can tell he’s about to ask what the monitor is for. Is it broken? Did you need him to fix it? Then you hear the babble of Rory mumbling in her sleep. 

The slumberful noise makes you smile, just as you know it will to Wolffe. As expected, the sweetest grin you’ve ever seen stretches Wolffe’s features, and he shyly tries to hide it, knowing you’re watching him, as he looks away from the device in his hands.

“Now you can hear her,” You say reassuringly, tenderly squeezing his knees as you rise. 

The two of you go to bed early, using Rory as an excuse to cuddle quietly in bed and whisper to each other for hours, wrapped up in each other's arms. Wolffe detaches himself from your arms every so often to make sure the volume on Rory’s monitor is working alright, normally when she gets too silent. It feels wonderful and warm and extra special to be held tightly in Wolffe’s grasp this time, like you’ve shared the most beautiful part of yourself with him and he embraced it more than you could have even hoped. 

—--------------- 

You wake to a sound you’re all too accustomed to. Groaning instinctively at the high pitched cries ripping through the monitor. Your arm swings out to your bedside table to lower the volume a little as you roll towards the edge of the bed, only to waft against the air when you do. 

Instead, you hear a deep groan, then a startled gasp in the bed as Wolffe bolts up. And for a brief moment, you panic at the speed in which your boyfriend is sprinting out of the bed and towards your door.

“Wolffe, wait!” You shout, completely awake now as you jump up and catch his arm just outside the door.

“But it’s- it’s Rory! She’s…she’s..” He gasps, nearly pulling out of your grasp, but slowing his stead when you’ve gently wrapped your arms around him, sensing that he should listen to you first.

You sigh, relieved that you prevented your boyfriend from bursting into your daughter's nursery ready to fight off a threat, probably scaring her in the process.

“Hey, she’s okay, hey.” You say, guiding his face to look at you. “She’s okay, I promise.”

He looks a little confused, eyes still swimming with alarm from having woken up to the cries of your distressed baby. You can feel his heart pounding beneath the skin of his chest, he was scared. He’s used to waking up to blasters and bombs going off, and you feel awful for not preparing him for this, having experienced him jolting awake in the middle of the night, trembling and covered in sweat. Letting him hold you tightly to his overheated, sticky skin as he mutters needless apologies into your hair for waking you. 

The cries of Rory startled him at first, especially being such a disturbing, foreign sound. Jumping into soldier mode to take down the immediate threat is his body's natural reaction.. 

“Wolffe, look at me,” You mutter soothingly, one arm wrapping over the warm skin of his muscular shoulders, hand resting on his cheek, the other down by the waistband of his synthetic shorts. You trace gently against the black fabric hugging his form, hoping to calm him with your touch. 

The heat of his body radiates off him, warming your bare arms against his skin. You hope the skin-to-skin contact is as soothing to him as it is to you. 

“Babies cry…a lot.” You explain gently, “Aurora has trouble sleeping through the night still, she’s probably just hungry.” 

“Oh I-I knew that. I’m,” He sighs, eyes closing as he looks down in shame, “I’m sorry.”

“No my love, please don’t be. I know you just want to protect her.” You say, pressing a warm kiss on his collarbone, then pulling him down to press your lips into his cheek. “Come see, it’s okay.”

You have Wolffe leaned back in the nursing chair holding Rory and a bottle in no time. Her eyes are glued to his face. Unblinking, calm, analyzing each of his features through whatever sharpness of vision she has at this age. Wolffe isn’t any different, you notice, letting her take him in while he does the same. You allow your gaze to follow his, looking at each of her sleepy, delicate little eyelids, her button nose, those cheeks that you just want to smother in kisses. It’s so hard not to squeeze this little thing with how much you love her. 

“So,” Wolffe grumbles, sounding gruff and sleepy, but peaceful. “You…you don’t think she's afraid of the scar?”

“Are you kidding,” You say gently, “Those eyes look pretty relaxed to me.” 

You smile, continuing to gaze into your daughter's face. Wolffe holding a milk bottle in his hand and feeding it to her with strong, steady hands. She almost doesn’t blink, the way she’s staring up at him, big eyes stretching uncomfortably wide to get a good look. Pure curiosity and interest swimming in her pupils. Her gaze flutters down his face minutely, before resting on his eyes again. It’s unbearably captivating, and you shake your head at her reaction to him. 

“If anything,” You add with a giggle, “I think she’s going, ‘damn, look at that scar. Nobody’s gonna mess with me with this guy around.”

A small grin spreads across Wolffe’s face, and despite the forced doubt in his tone, you know he’s eating every word up, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what she’s thinking.” He says with an eye roll. 

“That’s what I thought,” You tease, flashing him with that endearing smile he claims can win him over anything.

He huffs, but the grin on his face spreads to a full fledged smile as he glances over your features, “Like mother, like daughter, eh?” 

“Mhm.”

#wolffe x reader #making it canon that Wolffe has the biggest lovey dovey dad dreams #the Wolfpack are so gonna get it #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #wolffe x fem!reader #clone trooper #clone trooper x reader #dancingwiththeplanets #clone sinker #clone boost #clone comet #mom!reader #adoption #wolffe x mom!reader #wolfpack #the clone wars #104th battalion #wolffe #dad!wolffe

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Part 1

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: 807

Author's Note: I came up with this sad short fic while I was on hiatus. If I have to suffer, then y'all are going to suffer with me. It's sad. It's really sad. I might make this into a full-length reader fic at some point, where Wolffe hires a nanny (reader) for his daughter and they fall in love, or something sappy like that (pssst, I did). As always, please enjoy 💚

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Wolffe stands frozen in the medcenter hallway, staring down an endless sterile corridor with a small hand wrapped tightly around his finger. A pulmonary embolism, they said. A blood clot in the lungs, they said. She was so young, they said. Could've happened to anyone, they said. But it didn't happen to anyone. It happened to his wife. Within moments, and by no choice of his own, he's now a single father in a galaxy torn by war. The light of his life, snuffed out like a candle. 

"Daddy?" his daughter says while tugging on his hand. 

Wolffe snaps out of his daze and looks down at her. "Yeah, baby?"

"Where's mommy?" she asks.

"Mommy…" Wolffe pauses, biting his lip as he looks anywhere but his daughter's face. "Mommy had to go."

"Go where?" she asks. 

"Far away," he says.

"But why?" she asks. "I love mommy."

"I love mommy too, baby," he says, barely able to keep his emotions at bay. 

"Then why'd she leave?" she whines. 

"Listen to me, Cara," he kneels on the ground in front of her. "Sometimes… sometimes people have to leave and there's nothing we can do about it."

"When's she coming back?" she asks. 

"She's not," he chokes.

"I want mommy!" she yells.

Wolffe picks up his crying child and holds her against his chest, letting his own tears fall silently out of her view. "I know, baby. I know. I want her too."

"I'm not leaving without mommy!" she wails.

"Please, baby," he soothes as she cries inconsolable.

"Hush little one," a soft voice says from behind Wolffe.

Wolffe turns around and sighs in relief. "General."

"I came as soon as I heard," Plo says. He places a gentle hand on Wolffe's shoulder. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Wolffe says while bouncing his daughter to try and calm her down. 

"Come here little one," Plo says as he stretches out his arms to take Cara from Wolffe. 

Wolffe peels his distraught daughter off of his chest and hands her to Plo, then collapses down onto the bench against the wall. He hangs head in his hands and sobs quietly. His first real moment to fully process the loss of his wife. 

Plo turns away from Wolffe to give him some privacy and continues to bounce Cara to soothe her. 

The little girl's crying echoes throughout the hallway, sending sharp pains through Wolffe's already broken heart. He wants her to stop crying so he can stop crying. She's just a child, and she doesn't understand what's happening, which is making the situation all the more difficult. How can he console her when he can barely hold it together himself? The last time he felt this helpless was the Malevolence incident, and even then he held it together better than right now.

He doesn't know how to be a mother. He's a soldier, a commander. How is he going to fight in the war and raise a child? It's practically impossible. He can't just quit the war either. No clone can. His wife was a saint. She took care of everything while he was away on campaigns. The only thing he needed to do when he came home was hug his little baby girl and dote on her until he had to leave again. He gave his family everything he had, and everything he didn't have. 

He always knew he was going to be an absent father because of the war, but he didn't in his wildest imagination think his wife would die before him. They had contingency plans for if he died, but they didn't make any plans for if she died. This entire scenario came out of left-field and blindsided him. They were eating dinner like they always did when he goes on shore leave. How in the universe did they go from eating dinner to her being dead? He'll never understand it.

"General," Wolffe says through his tears. "What do I do now?"

Plo studies the devastated commander and softens his eyes. "You take each moment as it comes."

"But what do I do?" Wolffe pleads with a hitch in his throat. "The funeral, my kid, my troops, my–"

"Arrangements are being made as we speak," Plo interrupts. "You are not alone in this despair, Wolffe."

Wolffe looks up at the general and a menial, barely noticeable smile forms at the corner of his mouth, but it's betrayed by the streaks of tears that line his flushed cheeks. He says nothing in response, afraid that if he utters even one more syllable, he'll lose the last bit of composure he's maintaining. However, the words of his general ring true. He's not alone. He's never been alone. He has his general and an entire battalion of brothers to lean on. His family is here for him. 

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Masterlist

AO3

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[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

[coffeeandbatboys]

His pack (Wolffe x Fem!Reader)

Ok honestly I think Wolffe would go crazy at the thought of having a kid of his own.

Warnings: pregnancy, stretch marks, Wolffe absolutely adores the reader, OOC Wolffe.

Your lover has finally come home. After all the nights alone, all of the holo-calls and worrisome days when you didn’t hear from him, he was home.

Wolffe can’t help but stare. You’re standing in all your heavily pregnant glory, carrying a precious child.

His child.

The thought melts him and builds him up simultaneously.

His pack.

It’s been months since he has seen you in person, and each day apart from you made him more desperate to get home.

“Mesh’la.” He whispers happily into your temple, hands over the bump that has definitely grown since he’s been gone.

You gratefully lean into the gesture, before doubt clouds your mind. The dark striation across your skin becomes a burning reminder.

“I have stretch marks now.” You mutter with a frown.

He shakes his head. “Better to have those from a job not easily done than scars from battle. You…” he kneels to kiss your bump, specifically the areas with marks, “…are absolutely amazing Cyar’ika.”

The look he gives you is so full of love and joy. Maker, he may have a cold exterior, but he is yours till the day he will keel over and die. And you have a feeling that the same honor will be extended to your child.

His child.

His pack.

#star wars #wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x reader #tcw wolffe #clone wars wolffe #star wars wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #wolffe x fem!reader #commander wolffe #tbb wolffe #wolffe x pregnant reader

[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

[toomanybandstocare]

{A Small Army}

Program: With requests and paperwork assignments falling from two generals, you feel overwhelmed by the lack of support to help finish the additional work. Too afraid to make another mistake, you throw yourself into your tasks unaware of the watchful eyes of those around you. If you won't ask for help yourself, then Wolffe will remind you of the people around who care and want to help. And he'll take the time to explain just how much you mean to him and how much he's willing to do for you, if you let him.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x GN! Reader

Side Pairing Ref: Fives x OC! Kiva

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Length: 4110w

Warnings: Some swears, Overwhelming/Anxious emotions (no outright panic attack, but reader does show beginning symptoms), Petnames (Riduur, Cya'rika, Partner, Love), Reader gets pick up and carried for a little bit before being placed back on their feet

Counselor Note: I had a conversation with @twistedstitcher27 about how communication isn't typically shown in literature, and got inspired to write my own :) If you're a clone wars fan (18+ only) definitely check out their work!

Camp Resolute Masterlist

“I expected more from you,” General Plo Koon sighs as you shrink before him.

The command center hums in silence as everyone tries not to look at the two of you. Their quick glances burn into your skin as you stand before the Triumphant’s general. The thick atmosphere suffocates you.

“I- I’m, sorry, general,” you begin in a hurry. “I can make up that surveillance report in just a few moments. I can get started,” you fumble with your words as General Koon raises his hand to stop you.

“That’s quite alright,” he says. “I’m sure you have more work to keep up with, so just head back to your console. I can prepare one before the meeting quickly”. General Koon pats your shoulder with a nod as he walks past you to leave for the council meeting.

Forcing a deep breath through into your lungs, you move to your systems console. Chatter slowly grows as your fellow officers try to return the command center to its usual flow. However, the pained smiles and sympathetic looks sit heavy with you. As you sink into your seat and slowly wish it could eject you into space, a light hearted chuckle comes from just behind your shoulder.

“I know I don’t need to tell you this, but I wouldn’t take it personally,” Kiva reminds you. He rests his hip against your console desk, and he looks at you with a genuine smile.

“Glad to ever be your source of amusement, Kiva,” you huff. His teasing helps relieve some of the aching tension that rooted in your shoulders. You tear your gaze away from his, and your small smile melts as you boot up the computer systems. “Real talk?” 

Kiva’s posture straightens as he looks at you in all seriousness. In a low voice he responds, “Real talk”.

“I keep mixing up the generals’ requests, and I feel like I’m losing my mind with everything stacking on top of each other,” you admit. Your fingertips dance across the keypad as your eyes flicker between Kiva and the holoscreen. “I was up all night working on the survivor assessment for General Kenobi, and I guess-,” your voice trails off as a corporal walks past you to the command console.

“You got lost with the pile of work handed off to you, and the surveillance report slipped from your mind,” Kiva concludes.

Those words hold nothing but the truth, yet they punch you in the chest. Only able to nod your head, you pull up your schedule and task list to cross reference the day’s priorities. 

“I just don’t understand why General Kenobi hasn’t been assigned a new civilian officer yet,” Kiva ponders. He grabs the empty chair from the next console over to join you at your station. “Have you mentioned this to Wolffe at all,” he gently asks as he leans on the chair arm. His words become even quieter as he refers to the Commander.

You shoot him an annoyed look before continuing on with the report on Felucia’s ecosystem. “Why would I need to share this with the commander,” your cool voice rings clear with your opinion on the matter. “I’m more than capable of handling some paperwork”.

“Clearly,” Kiva laughs, “Since you keep getting piled up with shitloads everyday, because you’re still worried about proving your keep. Just give me some. I don’t have much going on today, and I know you’re overwhelmed with all of this”.

Before you can open your mouth to protest, Kiva rolls his chair to bump you out of his way. His hands fly across the keypad, and what seems like only a few parsecs laters, the comm signal beeps from his console.

Putting his elbow on your console, he rests his head against his palm as he turns to face you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Now, we can talk about why you don’t want to tell Wolffe what’s going on,” he pushes.

A sting of guilt prickles in your chest. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell him,” you softly admit. “I just don’t want to add to his worries. Felucia is not looking like an easy operation, and he’s been pulled into almost every mission even if it’s under the 212th or 501st’s lead. He has so much more pressing concerns going on, and I don’t want to add to it when we manage a moment alone”. You pull yourself back to your console system and bump Kiva out of the way as you pull up the task list once more. “What did you send over to yourself?”

Kiva sighs beside you, “Community rehabilitation. Just promise you won’t hide this from Wolffe?”

You hum, not giving a definitive answer. The holoscreen has your complete attention as your work on analyzing the ecosystem’s terrain. Determined to make up for your mistakes, you press on throughout the day. When your commanding officers ask for a check, you provide one with minimal delay. Once the council meeting has ended, you immediately put together a tentative schematic based on their decision, and you have it pulled up on the main holopad by the time the generals and commanders return to the deck. Throwing yourself into your work, you hardly notice the late hour from your chronometer or how most of the other officers have gone off to the mess hall for dinner.

“Hey, you coming?,” the corporal of the 104th calls over to you. Comet sends you an inviting smile, and you can only return a tired smile when you shake your head. “Come on,” he beckons you with a wave of his arm, “I don’t think I’ve seen you leave the deck all day. You need to take care of yourself, you know”.

“I’ll be there in a bit, corporal,” you compromise. Your words start to slur together, and you have to blink away the dryness across your eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you, call me Comet,” he shoots a teasing smile that doesn’t last long. Comet’s concerned eyes take you in. Your body leans the console for support. Watery eyes cause you to flinch when you blink. Multiple water bottles and snack kits on the ground beside your station. “Just,” he hesitates, “don’t wait too long, alright? The food may be shitty, but it’s something. Join us when you finish up”.

Comet waits for your hum of acknowledgement, and only leaves after he watches you fall back into your databases.

“Come on, Comet,” Sinker says under his breath. He pulls Comet away from your hunched figure. “At this rate, the candle is burning at both ends. We’ll give Wolffe a heads up, but there’s not much more that we can do”.

“I’m this close,” Boost hisses and holds up his thumb and pointer finger barely touching each other between the three of them. The bay doors slide behind them, and their footsteps echo against the corridor. “This close from having Fives tell Kiva to intercept and send half that extra work to me. Just because the 212th is short handed with civilian relief doesn't mean they can dump it all on our civvie”. 

It doesn’t take very long for the troopers to reach the mess hall as the corridors lack their usual traffic. Second shift has already begun to take over their posts, and most of the first shift have found their spot in the mess hall. An unspoken understanding drives the three men to search for their leader before finding a place in line for the evening’s dinner options. 

There sitting cross-armed at the unofficial CO table, Wolffe watches in disinterest as Commander Cody and Captain Rex argue over which of their men would reach Arc Trooper rank next. This conversation would be somewhat bearable if his riduur was nearby. Usually chatting away with the 501st’s civilian relief officer, he finds a sense of comfort when you’re nearby. His eyes scan the mess hall as a few more groups trickle in, but disappointment only greets him at the door each time. However, the sight of three of his men walking straight to his table makes him straighten up. If it’s about the shiny who keeps starting fights with the 212th’s batch, he wants nothing to do with it.

“Commanders, Captain,” Sinker greets the officers as the three of them approach the table.

Each of the commanding officers take them in with wary eyes. Used to the trouble that their men tend to find themselves in, each dreads what the sergeant’s report will reveal.

“Sinker, Boost, Comet,” Wolffe acknowledges his men, “what is it this time? Colt starting shit he can follow through with?” With a sigh Wolffe begins to stand from his untouched meal.

“Surprisingly not,” Boost stops Wolffe before he can grab his helmet.

Wolffe looks at his men with a cautious gaze. If it wasn’t the shinies acting up, then it’s something far more serious. He slowly sits back down and looks between each trooper. All of whom shift as his eyes move from one trooper to the next. “Who’s in trouble then?” Wolffe asks.

“It would actually be our civilian officer, it seems,” Comet steps forward and meets Wolffe's cold expression. “As the 212th has recently lost their civilian relief officer, General Kenobi has handed off their previous assignments to our’s. From what I’ve been able to observe today and what I’ve overheard from Kiva and other deck officers, our civvie is overwhelmed with the sudden increase of two battalion’s worth of work”.

When you became the topic of discussion, Wolffe’s body froze as worry seeped through his plastoid armor through his skin and into his bones. Everything seemed okay from when the two of you caught up the other night. He tilts his head as he processes the corporal’s words. What is he missing?

“He shouldn’t be doing that though. Regardless of the deployment timeline, we still have enough of a grace period to wait for our new civvie officer,” Cody fills in for Wolffe. Turning to face his brother, Cody sees Wolffe fall further into himself. “Wolffe, why don’t you go check on your officer? I’ll speak with General Kenobi and remind him to split the work between the two relief officers or wait for our new civvie to arrive,” Cody calls out.

Without delay, Wolffe stands up and grabs his helmet. His body moves without thought, and Wolffe’s mind focuses on getting to you. “Thank you for letting us know of the situation,” Wolffe stiffly nods at his squad mates. 

All five men watch him quickly walk through the throngs of people and exit the mess hall. They exchange glances before chuckling lightly. This relationship had to be the worst open secret of the GAR.

If anyone thought it odd to see Wolffe so uncollected, no one said a word when he marched past them. His heart races as his boots pound against the metal tiling. Why didn’t he notice you were overwhelmed? A pang falters his heartbeat, and Wolffe sucks in a quick breath. How did he fail you so badly? Practically slamming the holopad, Wolffe hurries through the deck doors just as they open.

“Cya’rika,” Wolffe pants. Desperation crawls up his throat and clings onto his words as he searches the deck. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up as silence blankets over the deck once more.

“Wolffe?” a tired mumble calls from the officers’ consoles.

Wolffe practically throws himself down the stairs and through the scattered chairs in his path. His footsteps fall short when he reaches you. “Love,” Wolffe trails off.

Barely able to keep your eyes open, you peer up at your riduur. You don’t know how long after Comet left that you drifted off to sleep. More report requests filled your inbox and a sudden desire to just stop overcame you. Your body gradually sank onto your console, and the thought of doing anything caused your chest to seize.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at dinner?” you mumble and rub your eyes. When you open your eyes again, Wolffe’s placing his helmet on the console near him as he moves closer to you. His warm eyes take you in with a concerned expression.

“I was, but a few pups told me that my cya’rika feels overwhelmed,” he slowly explains. Wolffe kneels by your side and rests his hands on the tops of your thighs.

Embarrassment burns your cheeks, and you can’t help but try to hide in your arms to avoid his gaze. Comet.

“Hey, hey,” Wolffe gently pulls your arms away and holds your face in his hands. The pads of his gloves softly graze your cheeks as he stares up with complete adoration. “What’s wrong, hm? Talk to me,” he quietly pleads.

The deck hums in anticipation as you try to form your explanation, but no words come to you. Your sight becomes blurry as tears burn your lash line. Opening your mouth, a lump forms in your throat and it constricts your airway. “I’m sorry,” you wheeze.

“None of that now. Let’s get you to bed,” Wolffe’s voice soothes your brewing anxiety.

“I still have-,” you quickly try to push on with your work. A wave of nerves rushes through you.

“Cya’rika, please,” Wolffe firmly stops you. He pulls your face to his, and he rests his forehead against yours. “We can figure this out together. I am here for you, and I want to support you. But I can only do that if you allow me,” he deep rumbles. Those words fill with tenderness as his lips invite you to fall into his hold.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you choke on a sob.

“You are never a bother,” he states. Wolffe’s hold on your face tightens only slightly. “You hear me? Never a bother. I love you, and I adore everything about being with you. That means the celebrations and strife of life”. 

“I know, but-,” you pause. Biting on your lower lip, you focus your gaze down to your lap.

Wolffe waits patiently. The familiar feeling of dread and anxiety from war often nips at the back of his mind. He rubs small circles across your cheeks as he keeps an eye on you. “I’m here,” Wolffe whispers, “I’m here for you”.

“I didn’t want to add to your stress,” you admit. “I know that you’ve had to work with more battalions and join them for additional missions. Each time your ship requests permission to dock, I run down to the hanger just to make sure you’ve come back. Each time you step off that ship looking more worn down than the last time. So for the few moments we can spend together, I just want to enjoy our time and make sure you have a moment of peace”.

When you pull your eyes to meet Wolffe’s gaze, he greets you with the softest smile that causes a flurry of butterflies to tickle your stomach. Your chest rises and falls heavy as you wait for his response. The faint signals and hissing from the deck fill the silence, but the air feels less thick between the two of you.

“Mesh’la,” Wolffe sighs and pulls you into a tight embrace to rest his head against your midsection. His breath fans across your stomach as he peers up at you. Small wrinkles crease at the corner of his eyes as they look at you in warm regard. He takes ahold of your wringing hands in one of his own, and he unlocks them to weave his fingers with yours. “I suppose we need to work on communicating our needs to each other, hm,” Wolffe hums and trails his other hand up your side. Ripples of soothing tingles spread where his fingers drag across your uniform.

“You’d think with such close quarters, we’d be in sync at this point,” you let out a relieved chuckle.

“May I share my perspective, or would you prefer we wait until you’ve gotten some rest?” Wolffe asks. Without breaking eye contact with you, he moves your hand to press a flurry of small kisses. 

His lips pause at each of your knuckles, and he carefully rubs your overworked fingers. The tender care causes a sigh to slip from your lips. Your shoulders relax as you watch your riduur with an adoring expression. Wolffe holds your hand up to leave featherlight kisses on the tips of your fingers. 

Neither of you rush to carry on your conversation as Wolffe presses one more kiss to the palm of your hand. Then his lips trail to your wrist with a wicked glint in his eye. He nips at the soft skin quickly and beams from your laughter. His deep rumble joins you, and your carefree expressions only calm down when you hold his cheek in your hand.

“Do you have time now?” you ask. A spark of hope soothes the jittering residual nerves from the day.

“For you? I will always make time,” Wolffe squeezes your hand that cradles his face and rubs small circles on your thigh with his other.

Your smile falters, “That’s what I’m worried about”.

“I,” Wolffe pauses. His eyes flicker across your face as he thinks about the best way to properly convey his emotions. Never having the freedom to share his feelings with another in fear of heartbreak, Wolffe wants to prove his trust in you and foster your trust in him. “I have alway wanted to experience a love where I know my partner, my hopeful riduur, becomes my safe haven. A person who I can trust with my mind, body, and soul,” Wolffe slowly explains. Tearing away his gaze, Wolffe pulls your hands together and rubs his thumbs across your knuckles.

“That’s all I ever want to be for you,” you nod your head for him to continue. Eyebrows creased as you take in his sudden change in demeanor.

“And you are,” Wolffe says and squeezes your hands, “You are my everything. The only person I want to see after a long day, because I know my concerns will be heard. My partner who stays up in the late hours of the night just to spend time with me, because my shifts end later than yours. The love of my life who makes my heart swell when I see you hiding at the hanger doors when I come back from a mission,” he shares and shoots you a knowing smile.

“I thought you didn’t notice,” you bashfully confide.

“I will always notice you,” Wolffe holds your gaze, “I search for you in every room I enter, and I only rest easy when I see you close by. I imagine you when we’re away, because picturing you smiling, safe and sound, keeps me going as blasters echo around me. Remembering how stunning you looked on our first date to the observatory, I know I have a person worth fighting for to come home when I constantly question my worth and dispensability. I have a person who sees me as who I am and loves me for the man I am as well as the man I wish to be. When I picture my riduur, I am greeted by visions of you”.

Neither of you know who shed the first tear, but you are the first to pull your hand away from his to gently wipe his tearstained face.

“You mean everything to me, cya’rika. I want to cherish and devote myself to you as you deserve in your partner,” Wolffe’s voice thick with need. A need for you to understand just how much he is willing to do for you if you allow him. He awaits for your word, your permission, to love you so deeply and care for you how he so desperately wants to. “I will only ever do my best to love you wholeheartedly and take care of you. Mind, body, and soul. But I can only do that if you allow me. Please, I want to be with you if you will have me by your side”.

You open your mouth to respond, but Wolffe beats you with a knowing look, “And don’t apologize”.

The two of you erupt into laughter mixed with sniffles and sobs. Steady hands pull you off your station chair, and you find yourself pressing your face into the crook of Wolffe’s neck while settling on his thighs.

“How are you doing?” Wolffe hums. His arms hold you tight to his chest, and he tucks your head underneath his chin. 

“I’m exhausted,” you exhale. The weight of the day and emotional whirlwind brewing inside you suddenly dissipates. Fatigue settles in your bones as you pull yourself closer to your riduur. 

“Then I think it’s time for some rest,” Wolffe grunts and lifts both of you up from where he kneels. His arms cradle you to him as he moves the two of you away from your console system.

Tucking your legs around his waist, Wolffe nudges your head with his chin before asking, “Grab that for me?”

Leaning away from him, you quickly grasp his helmet in one hand and pull yourself back into his embrace. Your arms drape around his neck as your cheeks warm. “You don’t have to carry me the whole way,” you point out. The idea of the entire GAR seeing the two of you like this makes you feel dizzy.

“Would you like me to put you down?” Wolffe sincerely asks.

“Please,” you nod.

With one word, Wolffe pauses just before the deck entrance to help you unwrap yourself from his hold. His hand steadies you at the waist when your footing wobbles. Looking at Wolffe,  your smile blooms into a beaming expression of appreciation. 

“Thank you,” you say and press a chaste kiss to his jaw.

“Anything for you,” Wolffe returns. He takes his hand from your waist and offers it to you. When you take his hand, Wolffe walks with you through the entrance and into the corridor. He leads you past the civilian wing, and your heart flutters knowing you get to spend the night in the arms of your lover. “Cody’s going to speak with General Kenobi, but in the meantime, cya’rika, please send some of the additional work to Kiva. We were all worried today after we had realized the load of osik you were dealing with. You have a small army in your corner who has your back. Remember that, alright?” Wolffe squeezes your hand.

“I won’t forget it,” you squeeze his hand in return with a chuckle, “Especially now that I know I have your pups, the 501st troublemakers, and the 212th jokers keeping an eye out for me”.

Wolffe barks a laugh as he uses his free hand to punch in his room’s passcode, and when the door hisses open, he waves his arm in front to invite you in. 

The moment you step foot into his room for the first time in what feels like eternity, you take in the space. Hardly anything has changed as your eyes flitter from his bed to his lock box, but what you see on his desk makes you pause. Sitting beside a pile of schematics and datapads dangling off balance from the other objects that take up space, you find a hologram display set neatly into the corner away from the chaos. Every few seconds, a new image of you or the two of you shuffles onto display and ignites more sparks within your heart.

After you place his helmet on top of his chair, you tear your eyes away from the display and find Wolffe taking off his armor beside his bed. No matter where either of you are in the galaxy or how overwhelming life may be in a moment, you have each other to rely on. 

Wolffe straightens up to face you, but his head tilts to the side at the sight of your watery smile. “What’re you thinking,” he asks as he takes slow steps towards you.

“I’m just happy to be home,” you say and take him into your arms. One of his hands rests on the back of your head while the other wraps around you.

Wolffe’s chuckle vibrates against your chest when he says, “It’s not what I have imagined for our home in the future, but for now I am more than glad to share it with you. What’s mine is yours”.

“I’m home when I’m with you,” you mumble against his chest.

Wolfee presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “Welcome home, riduur”.

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[somedaylazysomeday]

Bitten - Part Four

You finally give into your desires and contact Commander Wolffe.

Commander Wolffe x fem!reader

Rating: Mature. Minors, please do not interact.

Word Count: 5,200

Warnings: Discussions of BDSM contracts, including rules, punishments, safewords, hard and soft limits, etc. Mentions of sex toys and masturbation.

Previous | Next | Masterlist

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Weeks. 

It had been weeks since you had slept with Wolffe a second time and you hadn’t stopped thinking about the time you had spent together. 

You were intrigued by his proposal, of course. You couldn’t say that a relationship like that had ever been something you had pictured yourself having… but you also couldn’t deny that you found the power exchange intoxicating. 

In fact, the only reason you had allowed weeks to pass since the last time you had seen Wolffe was because the Wolfpack had been off-planet for most of that time. Ieri kept you up-to-date on their movements. 

At first, you had been concerned about the pretty Zeltron’s relationship with Wolffe, but you had learned that Ieri and Wolffe were friends. It was rather like seeing a nexu befriending a puffer pig, but it was adorable. It was also a relief to find out that there was no attraction between them. Ieri did not care for BDSM relationships and preferred females besides. In particular, she cared for your friend Gemma, which you also found adorable. 

When Ieri told you that the Wolfpack was back on Coruscant, you took a moment to check in with yourself. This was a big decision. Wolffe had told you clearly that, if you contacted him again after the last time you had slept together, you would meet up with the intention of setting up something more permanent. 

You decided to take a few days to consider it. Then, when you got antsy, you decided that two days would be long enough. And when your most reliable vibrator proved unequal to the task of keeping you sated, you admitted the truth to yourself: you wanted this. You wanted Wolffe.

When you commed the number Ieri had given you after your first meeting with Wolffe, your heart was pounding, but your hands were steady. You had opted for a written comm message to cut down on the risk of sounding scared or overeager: Hey. Want to meet up?

It was short, simple, and thirsty as hell. You had remembered to sign it, thankfully, since you had never commed him before. You had thought about explaining where you had met him to further jog his memory, but you ultimately decided against it. If he had forgotten about you or had that many people in rotation, you probably didn’t want to be with him anyway. 

Probably.

Despite your carefully crafted message, Wolffe didn’t reply immediately. You assured yourself that he was probably busy, but when he hadn’t answered fifteen minutes later, you sent a quick comm message to Ieri: Did Wolffe change his frequency?

Not that I know of. He can take a while to write back, though. Be patient!

You took a deep breath, trying your best to follow that impossible advice when another message came through: Does this mean you two will be hooking up again? ;) 

Despite the speed with which you closed out that message chain, you laughed at Ieri’s unsubtle urging for you to date the handsome commander. She had been the one to introduce the two of you - though it was from a distance - and had never been shy about the fact that she thought you should be together on a regular basis. She said you were good for each other. 

The comlink buzzed again and you smiled wryly as you lifted it once more. Instead of another teasing prod from Ieri, this one was a brief message from Wolffe. It listed a time, date, and address. 

It was difficult to think past the roaring in your ears, but you managed to calculate that you were apparently meeting with Wolffe the following afternoon. 

Another buzz. 

If you haven’t done your research, here is a place to start. 

You reread the message twice before a collection of Holonet links started to ping through. The first one was an overview of BDSM and power-exchange relationships. Then an explanation of BDSM contracts. Then a ranking of power-exchange relationship levels, from bedroom-only to around-the-chrono.  

More links and more articles and more ideas you had never considered. Information poured in until you started to feel overwhelmed. You had conducted research of your own, and had considered it fairly intense, but you were starting to suspect that you had barely scratched the surface.

By the time you finally let your datapad rest on your beside table, it was the early hours of the morning. You didn’t feel guilty about taking the day off, even when you told your concerned supervisor that you were sick. It wouldn’t have been appropriate to tell them that you were sick with anticipation and nerves, positively trembling at the idea of taking on a new challenge. It also wouldn’t have been a good idea to work on only a few hours of sleep. 

You slept far longer than you would have otherwise, but it was fitful, interrupted by dreams and stray thoughts. More than once, you woke up to dampness between your thighs as your body pulsed with desperation. 

Just before it was time to leave to meet Wolffe, you showered. Your vibrator seemed far more effective now that you had a new universe of ideas to fuel your fantasies, but you hoped most of your orgasms in the near future would be more involved than pumping a slick piece of silicon between your legs. 

When you were freshly clean and fully wrung out, you hailed a transport to ferry you to the address Wolffe had commed you. It wasn’t a club, as you had expected. Instead, it seemed to be an upscale bar with such a subtle logo that you struggled to make it out against the neon glare of the surrounding businesses: The Edge. Appropriate, you mused as you ventured toward the door. It did have an excellent view of the industrial sector’s canyon-like construction.

“You’re on time,” a rough voice told you. Every nerve you had thrilled at the familiar sound, and you eagerly turned to meet Wolffe’s brown and silver gaze. “Good girl.” 

Oooh. That, you had to fight not to react to. You managed, but had a feeling it was less effective than you wanted with the way Wolffe’s lips tipped into a smile. 

“Thank you for meeting with me,” you said instead. “I’ve never been here.”

Wolffe’s smile grew slightly. “I know you haven’t. Follow me.” 

Your brow was still crinkled in confusion as you trailed behind Wolffe. He held the door for you, letting you lead the way into The Edge’s atrium. It was elegant, all dark leather and subtle stone, but nothing that explained the secret sort of smirk on the receptionist’s face. 

“We’ll be dining here,” Wolffe announced. 

The receptionist tipped their head. “Fourth floor, as you know.” 

That seemed like an odd thing to say, but Wolffe immediately proved them right by going directly to an elevator that was half-hidden by a stunning Nabooian painted screen.

“So…” you started, when you were shut in the hushed closeness of the elevator. “I guess you come here a lot.” 

“I do,” Wolffe agreed, pressing the button for the fourth floor. He gave you a curious look. “Does that bother you?” 

“I’m not sure yet.” 

If Wolffe had intended to answer that, he didn’t manage to do so before you arrived at the restaurant. It was probably lucky that he had you step out of the elevator first, because you weren’t sure you could be trusted to keep up, otherwise. The restaurant was just as subtly classy as the atrium had been, but that elegance was enhanced by an assortment of enticing smells. 

The host greeted Wolffe by full name and title. “Commander Wolffe, wonderful to see you. Your usual table has been prepared.” 

When Wolffe nodded, the host gathered two menus and wove a complicated path into the depths of the restaurant. He set the menus down on a secluded table in a back corner of the space. It was a booth… or half of one, anyway. The single bench seat faced a floor-to-ceiling window that overlooked the bustle of Coruscant. It was shaded and tinted enough that the brightness wasn’t overwhelming, but offered a fantastic view for anyone who cared to look. 

“Your server will be with you shortly,” the host told you both with a smile. “Enjoy.” 

Had he waggled his eyebrows at you? That seemed daring, but maybe he could sense the dirty thoughts tumbling through your mind. You couldn’t help it, being so close to Wolffe. 

You only got closer as you sat down together. The booth was fairly spacious, but it was only one cushion and Wolffe had some of the broadest shoulders you had ever seen. It didn’t help that being so close to him at a table forcibly reminded you of your first meeting, when he had brought you to a knee-trembling orgasm simply by having you grind against his thigh armor. 

“Pick something to eat,” Wolffe told you, pushing a menu in your direction. “We’ll start our conversation after we order.”

You stared at the options. They all sounded delicious, but your stomach was tight with nerves. You had decided on a salad to keep your body from rebelling entirely. When your server appeared, you placed your order first, then watched in amazement as Wolffe ordered two dishes and an extra cut of meat. You had heard the clone troopers talking about how their advanced metabolisms left them perpetually hungry, but you rarely had cause to see it in action. 

When you were alone once more, Wolffe fixed you with a measuring look. “Did you read what I sent?” 

“And everything else I could find,” you admitted. “There’s a lot more to this than I thought there would be.” 

Wolffe nodded. “Did you decide what you want to do?” 

You stared at him, feeling suddenly unsure. Did he want you to just start listing the things you wanted him to do to you? That seemed abrupt. “I- What exactly…” 

“Let me clarify that,” Wolffe interrupted. “Do you want to be in a power-exchange relationship? If you learned more about it and decided that it’s too much, we can just have lunch.” 

“No, I want to do this!” you insisted, relieved that he had been asking something more surface-level. “I was just surprised it was so… customizable.” 

Wolffe fought a smile as you watched. Eventually, he said, “Very customizable. In fact, that’s what we’re going to talk about today. You read the articles I sent about contracts?” 

You nodded. “I even made some notes.” 

“That’s good,” Wolffe said, setting a datapad on the surface of the table. “Get them out and we’ll incorporate them into the contract. I’ll send you my template so you can read along while we discuss terms.” 

You were building a contract now? Despite your shock, you were thrilled by the idea, and fumbled a bit as you pulled out your own datapad. 

As soon as you were settled, Wolffe got started: “I’m a dominant, though you probably know that from our time together. I’m looking for a submissive.” 

He didn’t continue, and the silence stretched uncomfortably. Eventually, you said, “Well, you already know I’m fine letting you take the lead.” 

“For right now, let’s pretend we don’t know much about each other,” he suggested. “If we lay everything out now, there won’t be any surprises later. I don’t want you to feel like you’ve been tricked into anything you’re not really interested in. Agreed?” 

You nodded. 

“I’m dominant, not a switch. I am in control. Period. I may be willing to let you take the lead every so often, but that would be a reward for something big you did. I need to know you’re good with taking orders and surrendering power to me on a regular basis.” 

“That appeals to me,” you agreed, trying not to sound overeager. “I can’t say I have a lot of experience with relationships like this one, but I really enjoyed being with you. I couldn’t stop thinking about it.” 

Wolffe’s eyes darkened, but he made a note on the datapad and moved on. “Good. You know I work with the GAR, so I can be off-planet for weeks at a time. Knowing that, I think it would be best if we don’t have a full-time power-exchange relationship.” 

“That sounds like it wouldn’t be feasible. Plus…” You paused, choosing your words carefully. “I’m interested in this, but I don’t know if I would want to jump into such an intense relationship for my first one. It seems like it might be overwhelming.” 

“It probably would be, and I’m glad you’re setting limits.” Wolffe made another note. “This one is non-negotiable: I only do exclusive contracts. If you are going to be my submissive, you are mine. I’m yours in exchange. If I’m off-planet during a mission, neither of us are sleeping with anyone else. If we aren’t spending time together, we’re still exclusive. Any breach of this clause - on either side - would mean immediate dissolution of the contract. Can you agree to that?”

“I can,” you said, but frowned. “How would that be determined? I don’t want to sign myself up for constantly defending myself and trying to convince you that I’m not sleeping around behind your back.”

“Excellent question,” Wolffe conceded. “I operate on a policy of full honesty. That’s the only way power-exchange relationships can be successful. We both need to be able to trust that the other is being honest about everything from a new position to a potential breaking of the contract. Is that acceptable?” 

“Yes.” 

“Excellent.” Wolffe’s shoulders lost some of the tension that had appeared over the last few minutes. “Have you given any thought to how much power exchanging you’re interested in? We can keep it only in the bedroom, or extend it into everyday life - as much or little as you want.” 

“I think I want some stuff to carry outside of the bedroom.” It had been something you had thought about quite a bit. You weren’t interested in a full power-exchange lifestyle at this point, but you did find the idea of giving up some control interesting. “Is there anything we can do long-distance? Sorry if that doesn’t make sense-” 

Wolffe interrupted your self-conscious rambling. “There are things we can do. When we get to that section, I’ll bring them up. Do you have a specific time frame in mind?” 

“To get started?” you asked. “I was thinking… now. Or as soon as possible.”

“I meant to end this relationship,” Wolffe amended, watching you steadily. There was no pressure in his eyes, no push to give a certain answer. “Some people only want to do this for a certain amount of time, especially with an exclusivity clause involved.” 

You nodded slowly. “I didn’t have anything in mind. Is this something we can discuss later? Or can I bring up a change when I need to?” 

“We’ll regularly discuss our terms,” he assured you. “At least once every few months, we’ll read through the contract, discuss any changes that need to be made, and make sure everything is rewritten to both of our satisfaction. For now, we can leave the duration of our relationship open-ended.” 

Before you could add anything else, the server came back, dropping off your food and drinks with a small smile. When you had declined anything else, you and Wolffe were left alone. You turned to find him setting both of your datapads aside, stacking them on the farthest corner of the table. 

“We can keep working while we eat,” you told him. 

“No,” Wolffe refused. It didn’t seem to be up for debate, but he lightened his tone as he said, “I would like for you to focus on your food. Taste every bite, feel it fill your stomach. Eat deliberately.” 

You nodded, feeling like you had been issued a challenge. For the next few minutes, you concentrated on your salad, making sure that every bite contained every component of the dish. You chewed carefully, letting the flavors mingle and combine on your tongue.

When your plate was noticeably emptier, Wolffe nudged a smaller dish over to you. It was roasted ronto, sliced into bite-sized pieces. “Have some of this, too.” 

You glanced at him, startled. He lifted a brow. “If you don’t eat meat, I’ll find a replacement, but I would prefer if you had some protein in your lunch. That will keep you from being hungry later.” 

“I don’t want to eat the food you ordered for yourself,” you protested. The ronto did smell fairly mouth-watering. 

“I ordered it for you,” Wolffe said, casually. “I listened what you chose and adjusted my plan to fit yours.”

You took some roasted ronto without further argument. 

When you had finished, Wolffe sat back and crossed his arms, nodding at the table. “Stack our plates and silverware. Neaten the table up for the server and we’ll have room to continue our conversation.” 

This felt like another test, but you were keenly aware that this was what you were signing yourself up for with the contract. You did as Wolffe had said, even going so far as to sweep a few stray crumbs into a napkin that you deposited on the topmost dish. 

“Good,” Wolffe said, the approval plain in his rumbling voice. It warmed you, but not as much as his next point: “If we were established, I would reward that initiative. Maybe not in a way you requested, but in a way I knew you would enjoy.” 

You shifted in your seat, barely managing to not ask him if he could make an exception. 

“I would like for our relationship to be one between a dominant and a submissive rather than a master and slave,” Wolffe said, passing you your datapad while he tapped his own. “But if you had your heart set on master/slave, we could discuss options.” 

“I… actually don’t see much of a difference,” you admitted. 

Wolffe nodded. “Easy enough. Dominant and submissive means that I’ll be taking control of our sexual encounters and a few times outside of the bedroom. Master and slave relationships include the master taking complete control, and the slave focuses on serving the master. There are usually more overt signs of ownership and a longer ‘breaking in’ period.”

“Dominant and submissive sounds better to me.” 

“Perfect. I want you to call me ‘commander’ or ‘sir’ when we’re doing a scene. I prefer to use the color system when we’re talking during anything intense. Green is ‘keep going’, yellow is ‘go slow’ or ‘I’m not sure’, and red is ‘I don’t like this’. You’re more than welcome to use the colors at any time, of course, but I’ll be checking in with you constantly if we’re getting into anything more intense. I’m open to trying something different if you have another option. Do you have a particular safeword in mind?”

“‘Sir’ or ‘commander’ in the bedroom. Colors work fine.” You weren’t taking as many notes as Wolffe, but you still jotted down the basics of what he had said as you worked on your answers. “I don’t have a safeword picked out, but maybe… Kashyyyk?” 

“Kashyyyk,” Wolffe repeated, writing it down when you nodded. A faint smile played around his mouth. “I’ll try to avoid any Wookiee-themed scenes, then.” 

“Glad to hear it, but I’m also fascinated by that being an option,” you teased. 

“Everything’s an option, sweetheart,” Wolffe told you, a gleam in his mismatched eyes. “Which brings us to our next topic: hard and soft limits.” 

You nodded, pulling your datapad closer. This was one of the few things you had written down before. “For hard limits, I don’t want permanent marks, I don’t enjoy being choked, and I won’t eat or lick anything disgusting. Scat play is off the table for me entirely, and I don’t like verbal abuse.” 

“Noted,” Wolffe said, doing exactly that. “Is there a line for verbal abuse, or do you object to negative terms entirely?”

After a moment to think about it, you shook your head. “I think derogatory names and terms are a soft limit, as long as they don’t go too far.” 

“We can add more to the list later if we try things and you don’t like them. I would prefer you try new challenges once before we add them to the limits list, but I’ll never make you do something you object to.” Wolffe took a sip from his glass. “Any other hard limits you have?”

“Um… I won’t call anyone ‘daddy’,” you stipulated, looking him in the eyes as you said it. It was one of the few things you weren’t willing to consider at all. It simply wasn’t for you. 

Wolffe entered that into the contract. “And other soft limits?” 

“Sharing, play that’s more pain than pleasure, and being tied up for an extended period of time,” you rattled off. 

“I can address some of those right now,” Wolffe told you. “I don’t share except in very special circumstances. Even then, you would be the first person I discussed it with. If you’re not interested, that’s the end of it. Pain play is an acquired taste and must be done carefully. The same thing applies to long-term restraints. If you decide you want to try either, we’ll be careful to make it as safe as possible to reduce the risk of nerve damage.” 

That all sounded reasonable to you, so you entered it into your datapad. “Do you want to tell me your hard limits?” 

Wolffe glanced at you, seeming a little startled. “Since I’ll be designing our scenes, they shouldn’t be an issue. If we get close to any of my limits, I will warn you.”

“Fair enough,” you agreed. “What’s next?” 

“One of the ways we can keep the relationship going while I’m off-planet is by coming up with a list of rules and rituals,” Wolffe said. “Do you have anything in mind?” 

Fortunately, this was another topic you had made notes on. “I want one of your shirts to sleep in while you’re gone.” 

Wolffe’s eyes darkened. “Sweetheart, I’m tempted to give you that one for free. But I’m too selfish for that, and my first request is a big one: I want to dictate when you come.” 

Your face heated dramatically at that, even as the same thing happened between your thighs. However, as hot as you found the concept, there was something in the idea that didn’t sit right with you. Arguing his first rule hadn’t been your intention, but you were already shaking your head. “No. I’m sorry, but I can’t be exclusive with you gone so often and only come when you tell me I can.” 

Part of you had been worried that Wolffe would say your agreement was void, but he changed demands smoothly and easily. “Then I want you to tell me when you do come.”

You relaxed slightly. “I can do that.” 

“Are you sure?” he pressed. “I’ll want to know details: when, where, how, how it made you feel, what you thought about while you touched yourself… Can you agree to all of that?” 

“Yes, I can.” You issued your next rule: “I want for us to go out together every time you come home from a mission. I want to know the man I’m sleeping with.” 

Wolffe nodded slowly. “One stipulation: clones aren’t paid a salary, so there are only certain places we can go.”

“I’ll agree to that if you’ll agree to let me pay if we decide to go somewhere different.” 

There was an internal battle being waged, and you were fascinated to see which side won. Eventually, Wolffe’s jaw flexed and he growled, “Fine.” 

The clear disapproval in his voice made you feel victorious. Sweetly, you said, “You can go ahead with your next rule.” 

The flash of satisfaction on Wolffe’s face is the first hint you got that you may have overplayed your hand. “I want to choose your underwear when I’m gone. I’ll pick it out before I leave.”

“I get to veto when I’m on my cycle,” you countered. 

“Fine.” Wolffe crossed his arms, looking smug. “But I want holoimage proof that you’re wearing what I’ve picked out.” 

Your lips parted at that. You weren’t against the idea, but… “You’ll be in a war zone.” 

“Not always,” he assured you. “I have a private comlink, encrypted better than anything else in the GAR. If I can safely receive messages, I’ll send you a code word and you’ll send me every picture you’ve taken for the days I’ve been out of contact.” 

“If you can guarantee that no one else will see them, I agree.” 

Wolffe nodded, the motion tight. “I don’t share, remember? I will be the only one to see those holos.”

“Then yes,” you said, already dreading the images you would have to take. “For my next rule, I want you to tell me if you touch yourself looking at one of my holos. And which one it is.”

Wolffe paused. “I have no problem with that, but I need you to understand that it’s non-traditional for a sub to have that much power over her dom. I’m agreeing as a concession to get what I want, but if I get any hint of you trying to top from the bottom, I’ll have to punish you. Do you know what that means?” 

You had come across the term during your research and, thankfully, had made a mental note of it. “It’s when a submissive tries to take control of a situation or scene.” 

“And why is that bad?” 

“Because…” You frowned, having not expected him to push for deeper understanding. “Because it means the sub isn’t being submissive?” 

“Yes, but it is a sign of a deeper problem,” Wolffe told you. “It means you don’t trust your dominant to take care of you. A lack of trust destroys the bond you’re forming, which can destroy your relationship. That’s why topping from the bottom usually gets the harshest punishments.” 

Was it a bad sign that your body tightened at the mention of punishment? It had to be, and yet…

“My last rule is that I want you to wear something of mine.” 

“Your shirt, right?” you asked. 

“Along with that. I mean something more permanent.” Wolffe gave you a considering look. “Did you read about the concept of collaring?” 

You balked. “I… Yes, but I don’t know if I’m comfortable with the idea of wearing a collar. It seems… demeaning.” 

“That’s the point,” Wolffe said, clearly trying to fight his amusement. “A collar is a mark of ownership, and ‘demeaning’ acts are a major part of most power-exchange relationships.”

“I don’t think I can get away with wearing a collar around in my everyday life.”

Wolffe’s expression cleared. “It won’t be a physical collar. Not with how subtle and controlled we want our relationship to be. More like a piece of jewelry you don’t take off. Something that makes you think of me when you see it. Something that people in the community might recognize, but no one in the outside galaxy would.”

“Oh.” It sounded far less threatening when he phrased it that way. “I can agree to that.” 

“Good,” Wolffe said, jotting down a few more notes. “I’ll find a few choices and get your input. You should expect to be collared before my next mission off-planet. We probably won’t actually fuck until you’re wearing it.”

You nodded, disappointed by the news that you couldn’t expect to find relief anytime soon. The conversation as a whole made the relationship seem far more real than it had. Before this, everything you had discussed could be about someone other than you. Some fantasy version of yourself, who wasn’t scared or particular, who wasn’t hurt by a recent rejection, who chased her pleasure wherever she might find it. You wanted to be that version of yourself, and if this was the way to do it? It seemed you could live with that. 

“Those are all of the rules I could think of,” you told him, taking a large gulp of your drink. It wasn’t alcoholic, but you hoped it would help steady you. “Any more for you?” 

“I think we have a good foundation to build on,” Wolffe said, scanning over what he had written down so far. “The only thing left to discuss is what punishments we agree on.” 

Your body tightened, and you shifted in your seat. “I did some research, but I wasn’t sure where to start. How bad is a punishment supposed to be?” 

“Ideally, a punishment should be something at least slightly enjoyable that does no permanent damage, but can be made more intense if the situation calls for it.” Wolffe slid his datapad over to you. “I wrote down some ideas for punishments that fit those parameters. Most of them can be done over a distance, so we can make sure the punishments come close to when they’re earned.”

You took the datapad - pausing for a moment to appreciate Wolffe’s neat handwriting - and scanned down the list. 

Orgasm denial 

Ben Wa balls

One set for training, one for pleasure, one for punishment 

Anal plug

Nipple clamps

Temperature play punishments 

Freezing a toy or using hot wax 

Remote-controlled toys 

Some to be worn in public

Wearing your best stoic expression, you gave a considering nod. Some of the ideas on Wolffe’s list were intense or intimidating, but you couldn’t deny that all of them piqued your interest. That seemed the most elegant way of saying that your breathing had picked up and your panties were soaked through.

You nudged the datapad back to Wolffe. “I would be willing to try all of those punishments.” 

“Good girl,” Wolffe encouraged. You wondered if he knew the way that pulled even more of a response from your body. “If we have to do a punishment while I’m off-planet, I’ll need holo proof of you being punished. Can you do that for me?” 

You nodded, not trusting your voice. 

“Then all that’s left to do is sign,” Wolffe said, making final updates to the contract. “Do you want some time to look over it and make adjustments of your own? I can give you a few days.” 

“Days?” you echoed, dismayed. “No, I was reading along while we discussed. I didn’t see anything I object to. At least, not right now.”

“If you’re sure…” Wolffe said doubtfully. He only seemed mollified when you gave a firm nod. “Then I need your signature on this line. I’ll send you the final copy after I sign.” 

Could he see the way your fingers trembled as you scrawled your name on the line he had indicated? You hoped not. Either way, he didn’t comment as he signed his own name beneath yours.

“Now what?” you asked, cursing the breathiness in your voice. 

“Now…” Wolffe said, carefully setting the datapad aside. When that was done, he leveled a predatory look at you. “We can celebrate our new arrangement. Tell me, sweetheart: are you wet for me?”

---

Author's Note - As usual, you can expect a second (spicy) chapter tomorrow.

Thanks for reading!

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