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#wolffe x you
starrylothcat · 8 months
Note
Hey hey! Love your writing!
I wanted to ask for some nsfw headcannons for Wolffe, Cody, and Rex. Where their F!Jedi reader keeps force projecting different sex scenes of them together during a briefing; with the boys trying to keep it together during the briefing and their reactions/what they say to her after.
I also just wanted to say, that you are one my favorite TCW/TBB writers on Tumblr!
Distractions - NSFW Headcanons with Cody, Wolffe, and Rex
Summary: You decide to spice up a pre-mission briefing meeting by projecting naughty visions to your clone, knowing you’ll pay for it later.
Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Absolute filth. Smut. No real plot. Dom vibes from Wolffe and Cody, slightly rough handling but everything consensual. Fingering, oral, PiV sex. Reader a Jedi, not described in detail.
Pairings: Cody x Fem!JediReader, Wolffe x Fem!JediReader, Rex x Fem!JediReader
WC: Around 2,000 total (bullet points)
A/N: Let me tell you, the squeal I squealed when I got this ask! Thank you for this filthy request, anon! And thank you for your even kinder comment, I was having some self-doubt in my writing lately and I’m glad that you are enjoying my silly little stories, it means a lot to me and I love writing for y’all!
This is pure smutty goodness below the cut, I hope it’s what you envisioned. I had fun writing this for sure! I kinda got carried away with Rex, oops. Enjoy! 💛
✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*
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💛 Cody 💛
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He is a tough man to crack.
He’s always the Marshal Commander, taking his duties seriously on and off the battlefield.
You started innocently, visions of you kissing up and down his torso, slowly taking off his armor and blacks, fondling his cock, whispering how good of a girl you’ve been and that you’re ready to please your Commander in any way.
Cody didn’t even look at you, though you saw his hand twitch slightly at his side.
You smiled to yourself, projecting a more enticing scene into his mind.
This time, you were sucking his cock, his gloved hand wrapped in your hair, mumbling how amazing your lips felt around him, how much he was going to reward you later for being so good to him.
Still, nothing. Though his jaw seemed tense as he listened to Obi-Wan go over battle plans.
You knew you were playing a dangerous game, an exceedingly dangerous game, one that you will be thouroughly punished for later.
The thought shot a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, upping the ante again, needing him to crack.
The next image was of you, laying on his bunk, pleasuring yourself, two fingers deep inside your sopping pussy, your other hand pinching and tweaking your nipples writhing and moaning in pleasure, getting off completely fine without his assistance.
Since my Commander can’t be bothered to help me, I have to take matters into my own hands…
You held that teasing, lewd image in his mind, and you could almost feel the blade of his stare pierce straight through you as he finally made eye contact across the room.
It was a simple gesture that said so much, and you knew you had him.
After the meeting, you went straight to your personal quarters, knowing he wouldn’t be too far behind.
As your door hissed closed behind you, it was open again, and Cody had you pinned to a nearby wall so fast you barely had time to register what was happening.
Cody was deadly silent as he crushed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, teeth and tongue clashing as his armored body pressed into your robed one.
You smirked against his lips as he pulled away for air, your lungs burning. “Cody-“
Cody growled as he flipped you around, your face pressed up agains the wall, tugging down your robes, revealing your ass to him and your glistening pussy.
He gave your ass a solid smack, his lips against your ear, heavy and commanding.
“You’re not getting away with this.”
You sighed in both pain and pleasure, hearing the clunk of his codpiece hitting the floor, his fingers gripping your ass hard as he rubbed his rigid cock at your entrance.
“Is this what you wanted?” He husked, “to be filled by your Commander? To beg for this cock? Oh, mesh’la, you’ll be begging.”
You let out a whine as he teased your dripping entrance with his cockhead, already thinking you maybe took it a little too far with your visions, knowing he was a man true to his word.
It was too late now.
“Cody, please, I need-“
Smack! Another slap to your ass, his other hand wandering between your folds.
“Only good, obedient girls get this cock. After that stunt in the comm room, you have a lot to make up for.“
He swiped a finger over your clit, causing you to cry out, your body twitching, unable to move much between the wall and his solid form behind you.
He roughly rubbed your clit, pushing two fingers into your entrance, immediately finding the spongy spot that made you see stars.
“You’re soaking, mesh’la, so needy for me.”
You could feel your release coming quickly, choking out his name as his other hand groped at your breast.
Cody knew you were close, feeling you tighten around him, your high pitched moans giving you away.
Cody removed his fingers right as you were about to reach your peak.
You whimpered, trying to lean back against him, desperate for your release, for anything.
Cody spun you around again, pressing his gloved fingers soaked with your juice to your lips.
“If you’re good, I’ll let you cum. You haven’t proved yourself to me, though. Now be a good girl, and clean me up.”
You licked his gloved fingers clean, tasting yourself and giving him a little show of what you could do with your tongue, if you let him.
Cody’s eyes darkened, slowly pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a line of spit connecting your lips to his fingers.
“On your knees, mesh’la. Like I said, you have a lot to make up for.”
🖤 Wolffe 🖤
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The image you projected was absolutely filthy.
Your hands were pinned behind your back by his large hand, the other pressing between your shoulder blades keeping you down on the bed as he pounded into you from behind.
You were shamelessly moaning his name like a dirty Holofilm star, crying out for him to go harder, faster.
You stood at attention, casually glancing at him, noticing a bead of sweat forming at Wolffe’s temple.
You could sense he was trying his best not to leap over the holomap and ravage you in front of everyone.
You decided he had enough of the first fantasy, briefly closed your eyes, projecting another scene into his mind.
You were on your knees in front of him, your mouth open as he shoots ropes of cum all over your face, greedily lapping it up, kissing up and down his still-hard cock, begging for more.
Wolffe’s eyes flashed at you, his cybernetic eye and scar making him look more dangerous than usual, his eyes narrowing.
Got him.
You were enjoying watching him keep it together, a vein bulging at his forehead, his neck tense as he stood at attention, listening to Master Koon’s hologram.
You knew you were in for it after the meeting.
That was the entire point.
Wolffe was practically kicking down the door to your personal quarters after the meeting, pinning you to your bed, his mouth ravaging yours, moving down to suck and bite at your neck, hard.
He had your wrists held above your head with one hand, his grip like iron.
There was no escape.
“What was that?” He growled as he continued the assault on your neck, his hand tightening even more around your wrists that were wiggling to get free.
You whined as his hand that was digging into your waist moved under your robes, up toward your breasts.
“Answer me, mesh’la. Or you won’t get what you so obviously want.”
His gloved touch left a trail of fire on your skin, sending goosebumps across your body and a jolt of arousal straight to your pussy, your panties wet at the anticipation.
“You looked bored during the meeting.” You smirked at up at him, breathy pants leaving you as he touched you. “Thought you could use some entertainment.”
Wolffe’s gaze darkened at your teasing tone, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.
Without warning, he ripped open the front of your robes, yanking down your breast band.
You yelped as he attacked your breasts with this lips and teeth, leaving more marks for him to gently kiss over later when he was through with you.
“Do you want my cum, mesh’la? Is that what you want?” Wolffe grunted against your flushed skin as he switched to your other breast.
You gasped a yes, his teeth expertly nipping and tugging at your sensitive bud.
You writhed, your wrists still restrained above your head by his strong hand.
“I’ll fill your mouth to the brim, and you’ll swallow every drop, isn’t that right you filthy girl?”
You nodded, almost delirious just at his mouth on your nipples. He hadn’t even really started touching you yet.
“And then I’ll fill that pretty pussy of yours, but only if you behave. Will you behave for me?”
“Y-yes!” Your voice cracked, needing him to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name. 
“Yes…?” He stopped, his predatory gaze locking on you.
“Yes…Commander.”
“Good girl.”
Wolffe continued ravaging your breasts, your mewls filling the room.
“Please, I want your cock inside me, I want you to cum so deep inside me, Wolf-Commander. I’ll be good, I promise…”
Wolffe released your wrists, your hands finally free.
“You haven’t been good though, you knew that the second you invaded my mind with those visions.”
Wolffe sat up, and began removing his armor. You forgot it was even still on.
“I’ll make sure you’re properly punished for such distractions, and then I’ll decide when you’re ready for my cock.”
You shivered at his promise as he climbed over you, just in his blacks, the outline of his rigid cock straining against the fabric.
“I dunno, Commander. You seem to be all bark and no bite.” You teased, knowing you were getting yourself into even more trouble.
A dark chuckle reverberated in his chest, ripping your pants and panties down your legs, tossing them to the side.
Wolffe grasped your thighs, biting down into the soft flesh of your inner leg, earning a loud yelp from you as his tongue eased the first of many marks he will leave on your body.
“Be careful what you wish for, mesh’la.”
💙 Rex 💙
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You had him sweating and fidgeting as Rex tried to keep a straight face in the briefing room.
Rex was attempting to listen to the mission report, but your vision in his mind was proving to be quite the distraction.
You were on his face, his hands grasping your thighs as he feasted on your pussy from below.
“Rex, oh kriff, more, please, I need your big cock, I want you to ruin me.”
Rex gave you a desperate look from across the room, slightly shaking his head.
You ignored his pleading glance, changing the vision.
Now, you were splayed out on his desk in his private Captain’s quarters, his cock driving deeper and deeper into you, your back arching as you rubbed your clit, cumming over and over again around him.
His desk was dripping with your juices, your breasts bouncing almost comically as you cried out his name, hamming up the vision to see Rex squirm.
Rex suddenly coughed, everyone in the room looking at him momentarily.
You rocked on your heels, hands behind your back, pretending to listen as the pre-mission brief continued, completely innocent.
Finally, the meeting ended.
You exited the room, Rex quickly walking past you.
“My office. Now.” He hissed quietly, before being called over by Anakin to discuss further plans.
When Rex opened the door to his office, you were sitting at his desk, waiting for him.
“You have a lot of explaining to do, General.” Rex strode up to you, placing his hands on his desk, leaning over toward you.
You loved it when he used his serious Captain voice on you.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain.”
“You know.” His voice dropped an octave, husky and gruff, just how you liked it.
“You’ll have to elaborate. I can’t read minds.”
Rex stood up straight, his expression unreadable. You continued to sit in his chair as he walked around the desk and over to you.
Rex leaned down again, placing his hands on the armrests of the chair, caging you in.
For a moment, you thought he was actually upset with you. You felt guilty, maybe you did take it too far in the meeting.
You opened your mouth to apologize, but Rex spoke first.
“I think you can, mesh’la. How else would you know those visions are what I think about doing to you every waking moment?”
His lips were hovering centimeters from yours, a quiet gasp leaving your lips, your body quivering at his statement.
Oh, he liked it.
His breath fanned over your face, feeling your panties dampen, his usual soft eyes glazed over with lust.
You leaned forward to close the small distance, wanting to taste him, but he pulled away, avoiding your kiss.
“Mmm, mesh’la. You’re not going to get what you want so easily.” Rex purred in your ear, his gloved hand snaking up your neck, tilting your head to the side.
He placed a hot kiss right below your ear, lazily licking your neck.
“Rex…” you sighed, grasping at his shoulder pads, his teeth grazing your skin, his lips pressing to the side of your jaw.
“You want something from me?” He removed himself from you, kneeling between your legs.
“I’m not sure if you deserve it. I could write you up for what you did back there.”
Rex hooked his fingers under your pants, pulling them down your legs. You lifted your ass, helping him remove your lower clothes.
“Yeah? What would the report say?” You shuddered as Rex began lavishing your bare thighs, teeth and tongue sucking and nibbling as he slowly made his way up to your aching apex.
You could feel Rex smirk against your skin.
“My General coercing me into questionable situations. Inappropriate use of Jedi abilities.”
Rex stopped right at your core, aching and throbbing for him. You could feel his breath on your pussy, desperate now for any friction.
You let out a frustrated whine as Rex kissed your inner thigh, ignoring where you needed him most.
“Rex…”
“Patience, mesh’la. You need a lesson in discipline, it seems.”
Rex brushed his nose against your clit, your hips instinctually bucking up toward him, your hands grasping at his buzzed hair.
You groaned impatiently as he gently kissed your labia, touching you everywhere but your clit.
“You’re not going to get what you want so easily.” He rumbled into your core, a finger now teasing your entrance.
You panted, knowing you asked for this, that you deserved this, but you could still protest to his teasing.
“Captain, please…” You begged, shifting your hips, hoping he would press his finger knuckle deep inside you.
Rex continued to just tease your entrance with his finger tip, slowly circling, not quite pressing all the way inside.
“Kriff, you’re so wet. Do you want me to fuck you on my desk? Do you want to cum over and over again on my cock?”
You nodded, heavy pants the only sound able to leave your lips as he finally pressed his finger inside.
“Use your words, is that what you want?”
Rex’s lips were brushing over your clit, the teasing almost too much.
“Y-yes! Please, Rex, I need you inside me!” Your words came out as a garbled cry as he suddenly sucked on your clit, adding a second finger to your pussy, stretching you so deliciously you thought you might cry, pleasure shooting up your spine.
And his cock wasn’t even inside you yet.
“You’ll get my cock, mesh’la, don’t worry. But first, I want you to cum just like this.” Rex added a third finger, his tongue and lips circling your clit, your vision white from the pleasure as you squirmed and writhed in his chair, totally at his mercy, your orgasm building quickly.
You came apart on his fingers, shaking and sobbing his name, pleasure coursing through you as Rex’s fingers and mouth worked you through your first orgasm.
“You’re so beautiful when you cum.” Rex’s pupils were blown with desire, licking his lips as he cleaned you up, his baritone voice was laden with desire, his control now gone.
You barely had time to come down from you high as Rex easily lifted you onto his desk, removing his codpiece in a flash, pulling down his blacks far enough for his flushed, dripping cock to spring free.
“And you’re going to cum again, and again, and again. Are you ready, mesh’la? This is what you asked for.”
Your answer was a cry of his name, his hands gripping your hips as he slammed into you, starting a devastating pace, fucking you exactly like you showed him in your vision.
Your last coherent thought before being so thoroughly fucked and blissed out by your Captain was that you should definitely tease him like this more often.
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Tag list: @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @secondaryrealm @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @starqueensthings @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @dreamie411 @aconstructofamind @coraex @multi-fan-dom-madness @freesia-writes @kashasenpai @sunshinesdaydream @din-miller @clonemedickix @wizardofrozz @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @blueink-bluesoul @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @sleepingsun501 @sunshinesdaydream
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nahoney22 · 1 month
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Hey :) I Hope this isn’t too late but I have a fic proposal.
Clones should have a lot of scars and propbably some insecurities, considering that to most people they meet they are ‚just clones‘. I was thinking about a female reader worshipping either Hunter’s or Wolffes/Echoes (I love my grumpy men) body. I think it is a cute idea to make them feel appreciated and loved. It can be NSFW or SFW, whatever mood you’re in.
I also have seen the prompts „i'm not scared of anything except losing you“ and  „ I am truly and unconditionally in love with you“ . They don’t have to be included tho
Congrats on 4k followers! You deserve it so much Honey
Byee
4000 Prompt List Celebration
Wolffe X F!Reader
SFW
word count: 937 words
prompts:
“I’m not scared of anything except losing you.”
“I am truly and unconditionally in love with you.”
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warnings: Angst and fluff, cuddling, talks of war and scars, light angst, female reader, established relationship, comfort, shirtless Wolffe, Spoilers for the latest episodes (6&7).
authors note: well seeing as we saw Wolffe so recently it’s only fair I pick this request. Sorry for the wait and hope you enjoy anon 🤍
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You awaken to the subtle shift of your bed dipping, drawing you from the haze of dreams. A gentle breeze hints at an open balcony, likely your Commander's doing.
You shift, eyes flicking to the chrono on your bedside table that reads the early hours of the morning before rolling onto you right, facing him.
He’s silent, usual. Shirtless, also a common sight, yet his shoulders bear an unusual weight. "Darling," your voice rasps with sleep, "is everything alright?"
He remains silent, a restless energy vibrating through him as his knee bounces with an unspoken tension. As your hand finds its place on the center of his bare back, a calming touch, his movements still, tension melting away.
"I saw Rex today," he finally speaks, the words carrying a weight you hadn't anticipated.
Your eyes widen, and you sit up abruptly. "Rex? I thought he died in a crash!" The unexpected revelation catches you off guard.
When things took a turn for a worse, you were discarded by this new ‘Empire’ yet Wolffe remained. Your relationship was a secret of course and things had been hard for the both of you. You didn’t agree with these new terms and what Wolffe was doing yet he felt obliged to do his duty. To be a good soldier.
Yet, at nights like this where he would sneak into your home when he should be in his own barracks, you always felt the heavy burden of whatever it was weighing on him.
"So did I... but there he was," he sighs, moonlight casting an ethereal glow on his cybernetic eye and scar. "A deserter, harboring a target the Empire seeks."
Your heartbeat quickens, anxiety gripping your thoughts. "You didn't harm him, did you?"
"No," he responds, a low rumble. "I let him go."
In a hushed tone, you respond, "Oh, well that’s a relief,” as you shift onto your knees directly behind him, offering a supportive presence.
Anticipating a bitter retort, you're surprised when he merely sighs, his head bowing as he falls into a contemplative silence.
Observing his stillness, your eyes trace a new wound on his back, joining the collection of scars. "How did this happen?" you inquire softly, your finger gently tracing the red mark destined to become another scar over time.
"Who knows? Falling from a cliff, getting shot by a civilian, crushed by rocks," he grumbles dismissively.
Moving closer, you delicately wrap your arms around his front, resting your cheek against his back. "Are you in pain?" you inquire, concern lacing your words.
He shakes his head, his hands finding yours to convey appreciation for the comfort. Though not one to seek coddling, the weight of the day has left him in need of solace. "No."
In a moment of necessary silence, a sudden wave of insecurity overtakes him. "Does it uh... look bad?" he hesitates, seeking reassurance.
"The wound?" you clarify.
He nods.
"No."
"Are you lying to me?"
"Wolffe," you interject firmly, gently squeezing his hands, "you know I wouldn't lie to you. We've discussed this. I promise it doesn't look bad."
His jaw tightens, a brief struggle visible on his face, but then he relaxes, allowing your words to penetrate. The scar on his face, a constant reminder, had often made him feel exposed and unattractive. Yet, your consistent reassurances that you saw him differently provided a balm for his insecurities.
“Each scar tells a story, a battle won,” you whisper, kissing his new wound as well as the small scars that littered the rest of his back and what you could see, “a battle lost…” He closes his eyes, knowing what scar you were referring to but allows you to continue. “You’re handsome. Nothing will ever change that or how I love you.”
He bites on the inside of his cheek, his face warming up by the softness of your lips against his skin in the moonlight and your sweet words that had him hooked from the start.
"Are you scared?" you suddenly inquire, and he turns his head, prompting you to move back while still maintaining the embrace. "That they'll find out you let the target get away?"
"I'm not scared of anything," he asserts with stern resolve, but a softness overtakes his expression. "Except losing you."
You offer a soft smile, leaning in to press your lips to his cheek. "Sweet, but I'm serious. Are you not concerned?"
His brow furrows, a hint of reluctance coloring his response. "I won't lie and say I'm not apprehensive. Kark, it wouldn't surprise me if they're already looking for me to reprimand. Or worse."
A twist of unease settles in your stomach, his words weighing heavily on your mind. Tears glisten in your eyes, and he realises his misstep. Without hesitation, he shifts to fully face you, reclining on the bed with his back against the headboard, pulling you close to his chest. "Let's not dwell on that. I'm sorry for waking you."
You roll your eyes at his attempt to deflect the gravity of the situation, but decide to take comfort in his presence for now.
As the soft sound of your snores fills the room, he finds solace in your embrace. He strokes your hair tenderly, a soft smile gracing his lips as he watches you succumb to sleep. "Beautiful girl," he murmurs, a sentiment he wouldn't express while you're awake, not one for overt displays of affection.
Before slipping away into the night, he leans down to press a gentle kiss to your forehead, his voice barely above a whisper. "I am truly and unconditionally in love with you."
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Masterlist
Prompt List Works
Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @jambolska-grozdova @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @seriowan @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @mssbridgerton @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @id-rather-be-a-druid @the-bad-batch-baroness @thiswitchloves9904
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marymunchkiin · 6 months
Text
CLONES IN SUITS | COMMANDER WOLFFE
(POV: You were already waltzing with a trooper when a foreign hand swipes yours from him mid-twirl. "Sorry vod, I'll have this dance." Wolffe appeared out of nowhere, stealing you. Flabbergasted, the trooper stands confused in the middle of the dance floor, watching as a smirking Commander Wolffe whisks you away.)
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Version without shadows:
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Art inspired by the song "So This Is Love: Waltz" 💗 -----
I might have gone a little extra on Wolffe here 🤣 the clone commanders ideally will have a different suit color scheme compared to the others so that they stand out as officers. ☺️
Taglist: @riinoaheartilly @mamuzzy @freesia-writes @amorfista @cloneloverrrrr @wolffegirlsunite @askwenjing @moonlightwarriorqueen @sunshinesdaydream @advisorsnips @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @fictionalmenjusthitdifferent @corona-one @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @flyiingsly @insertmeaningfulusername @jgvfhl @n0vqni @naganna418 @techs-goggles9902 @starrylothcat @and-loth-cat @doctordoombignaturals @lune-de-miel-au-paradis -----
*For a look at the finished portraits so far, see this post here UwU
**If you'd like to be added to the taglist, feel free to let me know and I'll add you. thanks! 😘 <33
***Next on the list is Crosshair followed by Bad Batch Echo
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sinfulsalutations · 10 months
Note
What do you think each of your favorite clones’ guilty pleasure is? SFW and NSFW? 🤣
𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕥𝕪 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 ⋆*・゚ 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕩 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕦𝕡 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕣 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙 + 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕝𝕗𝕗𝕖
➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ʀᴇx, ᴛᴜᴘ, ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱʜᴀɪʀ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ, ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ
➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ, ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇx
⋆ ★ ᴏʜ, ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄʟᴏɴᴇꜱ? ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ʀɪᴅɪᴄᴜʟᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘɪᴄᴋ… ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ɪ’ʟʟ ɢᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴇx, ᴛᴜᴘ, ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱʜᴀɪʀ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ!
➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ
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Rex
SFW: Likes to be bathed or taken care of in the bath. While it doesn’t happen often, he loves it when you sit on his lap and scrub off the dirt on his skin, slowly massage soap onto his scalp and soothe him. Rex is not used to being taken care of or sitting back and just allowing things to happen without at least a little control, so it’s hard for him personally to come to terms with just how much he likes it, as well as even indulge himself too much when he gets the chance too.
NSFW: He wanted to record you two going at it to watch while he’s away for some time. You’d already sent him photos of yourself, domestic videos of you doing simple tasks, but none very vulgar. Now that he does have that recording, he watches it so damn much. One of his favorite ways to wind down after a hard day. Not that he’ll really admit it…
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Tup
SFW: This boy LOVES self-care days. If he has the chance, he’ll beg to do one. Paint each other's nails, wear face masks, braid hair in intricate patterns, moisturize, he lives for it. It's just an excellent way of doing the little things to keep his spirits up, expressing his own self-worth, and showing how much you’re worth it. As well as just having some sweet bonding time with his cyare.
NSFW: Loves receiving a lot. He doesn't really ask for it necessarily, and don't get me wrong, making you buck into his face and gasp from all the pleasure he's giving you is still one of his favorite things to do. He just also really enjoys sitting back and watching the person he loves on their knees, doing their utmost to please him and make him feel good. Also, Maker have you perfected it. The moment he sees you slowly sink down he's already anticipating the filthy noises that will leave his mouth.
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Crosshair
SFW: MASSIVE sweet tooth. It's his guilty pleasure for a few reasons. Firstly, well, it's unhealthy of course. They also don't get those kinds of pleasures or indulgences as a soldier. But if he gets a chance? He's gonna munch on some sour candy like a child on Halloween. It's a pretty interesting, delightful sight.
NSFW: Crosshair really, really likes it when you ride him. You rarely do it, mostly because he just can't give up that much control to you, albeit anyone, but on the rare occasions he allows it, Maker he comes so fast. You look so damn sexy on top of him, commanding his movements and taking pleasure for yourself equally without his say being a large contributor. For once, he's not in control, he's in your hands and so vulnerable and desperate... it rubs the strangest parts of his mind.
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Tech
SFW: This feels a little obvious, but sleeping late. Tech knows it's bad for him, but he just gets so much work done! His brothers aren't up distracting or pestering him, he can be left to his own devices to stray from the task at hand and deviate to another interest of his own volition, it's great! ...Yeah, you have to drag him to bed all the time.
NSFW: 👏Tie👏him👏up! Tech's hands are the most dexterous part of him and give him so much control over things- including you. And if you tie him up and render him subject to whatever you want to do, he becomes a whimpering mess. He'll suddenly be begging for any salvation, bucking his hips up and attempting to grind against you `cause you're just that damn sexy to him.
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Wolffe
SFW: Obsessed with holo dramas. Once you caught him screaming at the holo because apparently, the leading lady had made an unwise decision between the two men she was in a love triangle with, and when you asked him about it he immediately denied it. You didn't catch him watching it after that but saw him discreetly trying to find times when he thought you were asleep or working. So then you pretended that you showed interest in the drama to make him feel less bad about watching it. So now you always catch up on the latest episodes when he returns from a dispatch.
NSFW: Enjoys it when you make sorts of animalistic noises in bed. He hasn't expressed it directly, but you're beginning to catch on. He likes to sprinkle on some extra praise if you yelp or howl like a hurt puppy dog, give him those sickly eyes and whimper. And he always comes a little too hard, even letting a few growls rupturing in his stomach out to bless your ears. So in conclusion Wolffe is a furry
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a/n: definitely gonna do more of these with other characters, this was really fun! if you guys have any other characters you'd like to see with these headcanons, let me know :) ~ @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @thebahdbitch @secondaryrealm
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coffeeandbatboys · 2 months
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Battle Scars (Wolffe x Reader)
Summary: Wolffe comes home to you, but when you learn about his injury, he’s afraid you’ll leave.
Warnings: mention of Ventress and the injury, angst angst angst. Hurt/comfort. Also Plo Koon calls reader little one, but in a father in law kind of way.
A/N these keep getting shorter and shorter.
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You waited off to the side of the hangar, making your presence known but not too obvious. Master Plo Koon crossed it and stood before you. One of the few Jedi who cared about the Clone’s personal lives, he allowed the relationship between you and Wolffe to thrive in the shadows.
“He had an…incident. Physically, he will be alright. But he is emotionally unwell.”
Your breath hitched as you saw Wolffe coming out of the ship. Half of his face was bandaged, while the other was twisted in pain.
“Thank you, General, for taking care of him.”
“He is a good man, little one. He deserves it.”
As the general walked away, you noticed that Wolffe had not come any closer, staying on the other side of the hangar. So you made a move, crossing towards him.
“Hello, Cyare.” He sighed, turning the bandaged side of his face away from you.
You reached up to caress his jaw “Oh, Wolffe. What happened?”
A slight shake of his head told you something serious had happened. So you lead him away to the barracks, hoping that maybe he’d be more comfortable speaking in private.
“Wolffe you need to talk to me. I’ve been waiting all this time to see you.”
He mumbled something incoherent. You hummed in question.
“I’m surprised you even want to see me.”
Your heart sank. Did he think you wouldn’t want him because he was injured? You carefully placed your hand on the bandages.
“Is this what this is all about?”
He nodded. You leaned forward and placed a feather light kiss to the medical cloth. You were ready to pull back when his arms locked around your waist and he held you like he’d never see you again.
“I love you Cyar’ika. I can’t…I can’t loose you.”
You chuckled a little bit. “I signed up for your bullshit, Wolffe. You’re stuck with me.”
“Promise?” He mumbled into your shoulder.
“I promise, love. Now want to tell me what happened?”
“Ventress. She…cut through my helmet.”
You thought for a moment.
“That’s something to be proud of. Not being killed by a Sith.”
He laughed dryly, holding you a little tighter.
“Yeah. I suppose so.”
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Dancing Lights
Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader
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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
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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.
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bittersweet
summary: After being separated for a very long time, two lovers reunite under challenging circumstances on Teth.
pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader
warnings: !SPOILERS!, fluff, angst, no happy ending
words: 1075
a/n: the return of the king (and my writing :)
!!!SPOILERS EPISODE 6 AND 7!!!
MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES
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One second the laughter of Echo and Gregor fills the ship, then there is a desperate call for help coming through the comm. It‘s Rex, surrounded by imperial forces. He is with clone force 99 as well as other surviving clones. Right away, Echo turns the ship around and heads back to Teth as quickly as possible. Neither Gregor nor (Y/n) need a direct order to reach for their weapons and prepare for a risky exfiltration.
For a few seconds, (Y/n)s fingers linger on her vibro knife with a significant wolf engraved into it‘s hilt. Her heart burns at bittersweet memories of a certain Commander. Closing her eyes, she can still see him smiling after he gave her the knife. Other people, maybe even some of his brothers, considered him strict and bitter, but (Y/N) could always look behind his cold behaviour. But now, he is out of her reach, and she can‘t admire the glint in his eyes anymore.
“Are you alright?“, Gregor places a hand on (Y/n)s shoulder, tearing her out of her daydreams. There is a single tear running over her cheek and she quickly wipes it away, but the clone saw it. He tries to smile at her reassuringly. The smile on her lips doesn‘t reach her eyes, though.
“Yeah, thanks, Gregor“, (Y/n) tells him with a shaky voice and turns back towards her numerous weapons. The knife slides into the holster on her thigh, and it feels heavier than ever.
As she places her rifle over her shoulder, Echo announces that they are almost at the extraction point. Gregor and (Y/n) walk towards the ramp and get into position. Standing behind Gregor, (Y/n) aims her rifle towards the opening ramp. At first, she can‘t see much because Echo is still landing the ship, but then she catches a glimpse of Rex and other clones surrounded by imperial forces.
Her crosshair moves from the regular troops to a commando and finally to the Commander of this squad. The grey paint on his armor seems familiar and takes away (Y/n)s breath. It looks too familiar, she must be hallucinating. It can‘t be him. But the moment the Commander takes off his helmet, (Y/n) recognises him. It‘s Wolffe.
The rifle falls to the ground with a loud thump, attracting everyone’s attention. (Y/n) has to take a few steps forward to stand next to Gregor and be in view to everyone. To her in this very moment only one person matters. It‘s like everyone else disappears and leaves her reunited with her lost lover.
Wolffe is as baffled as never before. His cybernetic eye must be malfunctioning because how could his cyar‘ika be right here on Teth? She might look a bit different, but so does he. War changes people. In the past year, whenever her imagined her in his mind, he would always remember her carefree in the summer sun of Coruscant. Now she is wearing a heavy protective vest and many weapons, looking almost drained. But it‘s (Y/n), for sure.
“Wolffe“, she whispers his name before approaching him with fleet steps. Running past Rex, who understands the situation unlike the clones around him, (Y/n) reaches Wolffe quickly. Without a second thought, she wraps her arms around his neck and crashes against him, making him stumble a few steps backwards. His helmet falls to the ground, and he engulfs her in a tight hug.
There are smiles and tears as they part a few inches to take a better look at each other. (Y/n) places her hands just under Wolffes scrubby jaw, caressing his cheeks with her thumbs. “You‘re home“, she whispers and leans forward to connect their foreheads in a sweet keldabe kiss without helmets.
“Yes, I‘m home, cyar‘ika“, Wolffe returns and closes his eyes for some time. Then he remembers the situation they are in as his second in command shifts. Softly, he moves (Y/n) to his side but never actually parts from him. He still has to follow orders, right? But with his beloved girl and multiple of his brothers right here, he gets some doubts.
Most of the clones are already inside of the ship, only Rex and Gregor are still outside, waiting for (Y/n). The soldiers under Wolffe’s command are getting unsettled, not knowing what to do and what their orders are.
“Let them go“, their Commander orders and the troopers lower their blasters. A nod from Wolffe tells them to return to their ship. Turning his attention back on (Y/n), Wolffe can feel his heart ache. He pulls her into a tight hug once again, feeling one of her hands buried in his hair. Only when they part does (Y/n) realise this was a way of saying goodbye.
“No, I only just got you back, you can‘t leave me again. Please“, she whines and starts crying at the realisation. Wolffe takes her face in his rough hands and stops her from hiding her face in her own.
“Shh, don‘t cry. This is not a goodbye, we will see each other again. I promise. But I have to take care of a few things before we can see each other again. I have to take care of my squad. I‘m so sorry, cyar‘ika“, Wolffe tries to reassure his girl. He leans his forehead against hers, not caring what the remaining clones around them think. “We found each other once, we can do that a second time, I‘m sure of that.“
The moment Wolffe tries to take a step backwards and part from (Y/n), she presses herself as close to him as possible. Their lips meet in a teary and passionate kiss, showing their raw emotions. “I love you so much, please come back to me“, (Y/n) breathes against her lover’s lips and finally parts from him. He places one last kiss between her brows, strokes a hair strand behind her ear and whispers a declaration of love in Mando’a : Ni kar‘tayli gar darasuum.
Wiping away the tears from her face, (Y/n) approaches Rex and Gregor who look as downcast as her. They enter the ship after her, but only (Y/n) takes a look back and watches Wolffe enter the imperial ship. They get separated by the closing ramp.
But just like Wolffe said: They found each other once, they can do that a second time.
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congrats on 450!! I've just gotten back into my star wars hyperfixation, tis the season I suppose, and your fics have been LIFE SAVERS and so I am here to congratulate you on an incredibly well earned celebration! and to request:
7. "you're not as bad as everyone says."
28. "maybe there's a universe your there where we're friends."
with either Wolfe or Cody x fem/gender neutral (whichever you prefer)?
Thank you so much and congrats again!!! <3
Awww @hxad-ovxr-hxart that's so sweet. I'm so glad my fics have helped. That makes me so happy, and I hope you'll like the fic. I wrote with Wolffe in mind. Enjoy.
Love oo,
Friends
Warnings: Crashing, angst, death, fluff, comfort, I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.
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Commander Wolffe was never a man who suffered fools, he didn’t appreciate tardiness, he hated chit chat, and worst of all he hated personal questions. And somehow you managed to do all four on your first day on the Triumphant, which made you public enemy number one in Wolffe’s book. 
Every day you saw him, he simply rolled his eyes and growled each time you passed. 
You tried your best to fix it, but no matter what you did or said, it didn’t make a difference. You gave up after months of constant growls and eye rolls. Now you simply made a point to arrive on time for your shift as a communication specialist. You performed your role to the best of your ability, and did your best to stay out of his way. 
Things were going well, that was until your shuttle crashed, and the two of you were the only survivors. 
“Anything broken?” Wolffe asked after he checked on the two pilots and made his way over to you.
You shook your head, “No. I think …” you tested out each of your limbs, “I think I’m alright” you groaned as you tried to stand.
“Easy. Here,” he held out his hand to help you up, “alright?”
You nodded and followed him out of the crashed gunship, “Hmm… where are we?” You looked around trying to become aware of your surroundings.
“We dropped out of hyperspace somewhere in between, the Triumphant and our destination. Don’t worry they’ll come for us, I sent out a distress beacon.”
“How long do you think we’ll be here?”
“A day or two… maybe a week.” He went into the ship, and grabbed the emergency gear, passing one backpack to you and keeping one himself. 
“Are we going somewhere?”
“To a more defensible position, we don’t wanna be out here in case there’s Separatist droids nearby or in case there are any dangerous animals.”
You nodded and followed him, keeping pace as best you could. It was about three hours later, when you were panting and gasping for breath, “Wait … Commander, please I … I need a break.” You leaned against a boulder. 
“Alright …” Wolffe nodded, “take a break, we can rest for a minute.”
You nodded, thanking him, as you took a break, “Sorry.”
“It’s fine, you’re a civilian. You’re not used to this.”
You looked up at him as you regained your breath and took a sip of water, “You know, you’re not as bad as everyone says you are.”
Wolffe, let out a laugh, “And how bad does everyone say I am?”
“That you have a short temper, you don’t suffer fools, you don’t like civilians really…”
He turned to look at you, “Really?” You simply nodded your answer, “I wouldn’t say I don’t like civilians, I’d say … civilians don’t appreciate the sacrifices me and my brothers make.”
“I know” you answered solemnly, “I’ve heard them, when I walk around Coruscant. I’m sorry. It’s not right or fair.”
“My life has never been really fair. But, thank you.”
You stood brushing off your pants, “I’m good, we can continue.”
Wolffe simply nodded as he led the way to a cave that would provide the right shelter, he set up a defensive perimeter, while you started a fire, when you were finished he came and sat beside you nodding at your achievement. 
“Good job, didn’t think civilians knew how to start a fire”
“Well I did take basic survival training, when I first joined the GAR.”
“Impressive.” He took off his helmet and his gloves, keeping the comm alert on high in case the rescue team was trying to get a hold of them.
“Commander” you looked into the fire, lost in thought, “Do you think maybe there's a universe out there where we're friends?”
“I don’t know” Wolffe answered as he kept his own gaze on the fire, “but I can tell you, you gained a friend today.” He smirked as he looked at you, “Listen, I don’t know what I ever did to make you think I hate you, civvie. But I don’t. I am actually impressed by you. It’s not easy joining the GAR to begin with, not as a civilian, certainly not as a woman, but you continue to work harder than everyone else. You’re prompt with your reports and always pleasant with your co-workers. I’ve heard nothing but praise from everyone you work with, and even today, you put up with a lot, with barely a complaint. That’s impressive.”
You tried to hide the smile that wanted to creep on to your face, “Thank you, Commander.”
“Wolffe.”
“I’m sorry?”
“When it’s just us, you can call me Wolffe. After all, we’re friends, right?”
“That’s right … Wolffe.”
He didn’t know why but hearing you say his name, brought a smile to his lips. “Close your eyes and try to sleep” he motioned to the ground, “I’ll keep watch. You’ll be safe.”
You nodded and leaned down against the ground resting your head on the backpack, wrapping the emergency blanket around you to stay warm. “Wolffe, do you think someone got our distress signal?”
“Don’t worry civvie, Plo’buir isn’t about to leave us behind.” He looked after you and smiled, “Just relax, and close your eyes. It’ll be okay.”
You nodded, closing your eyes, “Thank you, Wolffe”
“For?”
“For being my friend,” your voice trailed off as the exhaustion from the crash, the hike, and just the anxiety of the day pulled you under. Soon enough you were snoring. 
Wolffe smiled as he watched you sleep, his heart fluttering as he took in your features. He always wondered why you had kept your distance from him, but to think you thought he hated you, made his heart hurt. It was so far from the truth. However, it was too soon to point that out. Instead, for now, he’d be your friend, and hope that in the future, your friendship could progress to something more. Maybe one day. 
“Goodnight, cyar’ika. Sweet dreams.” He whispered as he put his helmet back on and kept his blaster on his lap, keeping guard, making it his job to protect you. 
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neon-junkie · 11 months
Text
Wolffe letting out a soft chuckle whenever your sarcasm and wit comes out in full swing.
Wolffe crossing his arms against his chest and laughing proudly when you tumble over after attempting to pull a silly move.
Wolffe smiling so happily that the corner of his eyes crease whenever he's speaking to you.
Wolffe being teased by his boys because it's so painfully clear that he has a soft spot for you.
Wolffe forming a warm and welcoming sensation in his chest when you compliment the paint job on his armour.
Wolffe receiving subtle signs of approval from Master Plo after seeing the way that you two simply are around each other.
Wolffe staying up late every night, unable to sleep, blissfully haunted by your character; a ghost who wants nothing but the best for him, and hopefully, his love in return.
Wolffe who feels sick with anger the second you're injured, even if it's just a scratch.
Wolffe refusing to remove his helmet, shielding his glossy vision and held back tears as he holds your unconscious body close to his chest.
Wolffe pacing back and forth along the medical wing corridor, knowing that he has to keep himself occupied, or else he'll drive himself insane over the thought of losing you.
Wolffe whose words fall silent the second that you wake up. A lump in his throat, clouds in his brain; he's no poet, far from it, and he curses himself for not being able to speak plainly.
Wolffe who fails to meet your gaze as your weak hand comes up to cup his jawline, followed by a soft, "I know."
Wolffe, who is neither bark nor bite, because he's so overwhelmed by the positive and wholesome feelings that you flood him with.
Wolffe in love.
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clu-ven · 1 year
Text
The Closet
Summary: The Wolfpack is sick of the constant arguing between you and Wolffe, so they take matters into their own hands. Surely if you and the Commander were accidentally locked into one of the supply closets, you’d come to some sort of middle ground, right?
Well, there’s one thing they’re forgetting… you’re claustrophobic.
TW: small spaces, claustrophobia, panic attack 
Word Count: 4.7k
-> Reader uses she/her pronouns - masterlist can be found here <-
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“It’s the perfect plan!” Boost exclaims, slapping the table in front of him for emphasis. 
The mesh hall is relatively crowded today, many hungry troopers finally getting some time to relax after another tough mission. Despite the loud chatter of the room, Sinker keeps his voice low. 
“I’m not sure,” he concludes with the shake of his head “it sounds risky and Wolffe is in a bad mood as it is, I don’t want this to make him worse”.
At the other side of the table, Boost shares a mild look of annoyance with Comet. “C’mon Sarge, this solves all of our problems!” Comet replies with a whine. It took him and Boost the past week to come up with this plan, putting more time into it than they’d like to admit.
With a deadpan voice, Sinker replies “Oh so this will end the war? And kill Dooku? And wash the gunships? Each and every problem we have will be instantly solved if we lock them in a supply closet?”.
Boost shrugs, trying to stay optimistic “You never know”. Sinker scoffs, rolling his eyes at his brother. 
The plan was simple but Comet and Boost couldn’t do it alone. They needed Sinker for this to work. Sighing, Boost leans across the table “Look, all you have to do is get her into the closet on the lower deck, that’s it”. 
Sinker is still unsure. “We’ll get the Commander, shove him in there, lock the door and ta-dah! Job done” Comet adds. 
This doesn’t sound like a good plan. Sinker knows that but it is enticing. He’s not sure if he can handle another mission full of you and Wolffe’s bickering, the two of you proclaiming you can’t stand the other.
Missions would be much easier if you both avoided each other but no, despite the constant arguing you two engage in, you will still insist on being near one another, whether that be sharing the same holomap (which is an absolute nightmare to witness) or standing next to one another in a briefing (which leads to you interrupting him and vice versa for the entire. damn. briefing.).
Sinker wants to say no, to put a stop to his brother’s shenanigans but would this do any harm? Maybe if you both got the opportunity to confront one another and get all of this arguing out of your system once and for all, then you might come to some sort of middle ground and let bygones be bygones.
“If I agree to this…” he begins and Boost impulsively throws his fist in the air “Yes! You're in!”.
“I said if…” Sinker says sternly “if I do this then the two of you have to wash the gunships”.
Boost nearly falls off his seat “H-how many are you expecting us to wash, Sarge?”. 
“I want four done by the end of the next rotation”.
Although Comet has never experienced a heart attack, he’s sure this is how it feels “What?! Four? C’mon Sinker, be reasonable”.
He folds his arms “Boys, if you want my help then that’s what it’ll cost ya”. Exchanging looks to one another, Comet huffs “Fine, we agree”.
***
The sound of your name makes you look up, eyes wide as you scan the corridor. Manoeuvring through some troopers, Sinker comes into view. 
Closing your datapad, you give the Sargeant your full attention, a relaxed smile on your face. 
“Sinker, what can I do for you?” You ask.
A flicker of sympathy crosses Sinker’s face as he answers “Well, I was just wondering if you could help me get some batca patches from the supply closet. There’s a whole box in there but, well, y’know me, I accidentally pushed them behind the shelving unit and now they’re stuck between that and the wall. Do you think you could get them for me?”.
“Yeah, sure,” you reply, so quick to help that it makes the ball of guilt in Sinker’s stomach grow “lead the way”.
While usually you and Sinker always find things to talk about, he’s strangely quiet during your walk to the lower deck. It’s not something that alarms you but instead, it worries you. 
It’s no secret that things have been intense lately. The missions have gotten deadlier, injuries are harder to aid and the Separatist army seems to be growing more and more by the minute.
Even something as simple as accidentally knocking some bacta patches behind a cabinet seems like a dire problem nowadays. 
“It’s that one, just up ahead” Sinker slows his pace, pointing at one of the closets. 
“You’re not coming in?” You quirk an eyebrow, slowing your pace to match his. 
“Hm? Oh… uh, no I have to go help the General with something… sorry, I should’ve said that beforehand” he scratches the back of his neck, preferring to look down at the floor.
“That’s ok, you go on ahead, I’ll take care of this” with a firm nod, you open the door to the closet and disappear inside. Once Sinker’s certain the door has fully closed behind you, he lets out a long sigh. Kriff, that was harder than he thought it would be.
The inside of the closet is dark, the dim lights taking a few seconds to boot up. In your time serving the GAR, you’ve been on a multitude of ships, covered with the most cutting edge technology and yet in each and every ship, the closets are always neglected. 
They’re a second thought in comparison to the other elements of the ship. Cluttered floors, racks that are full of various stock that are probably out of date, a musty smell in the air, dull lights that are incapable of doing their sole purpose. It’s not a place you want to be for a long time.
Trying to look behind the metal shelving units, you mumble a curse. It’s dark behind the cabinets with barely enough space between them and the wall for you to fit your arm through.
Stooping down, you reach into the darkness, trying to find this damn box of bacta patches so you can quickly leave again. 
You’re so invested in finding the box, you pay no attention to the voices outside. “Why would the General want to meet me in there?” A voice says and without missing a beat, another voice replies “I’m not sure, Commander, I thought it was best not to ask”.
Behind you, the door opens but with the position you’re in, it’s hard to turn around and look. “I haven’t found it yet,” you call out “kriff, how far back did it fall?”.
The person doesn’t reply. 
“I know you’re really busy just standing there and all, Sinker,” you huff “but I’d really appreciate some help”.
“Sinker?” the voice scoffs, making you freeze. Clumsily removing your hand from behind the cabinet, you stand up straight and come face to face with Commander Wolffe.
You have to admit, you didn’t think you’d come this close to him, your chest almost bumping against his as you sway backwards to give him some space. “Oh! Commander-“ you start but Wolffe talks over you.
“I know us clones all look the same but the last time I checked, Sergeant Sinker has silver hair and both of his biological eyes”. You can hear the venom in his voice, his tone laced in sarcasm as he continues “Just a tip, so you don’t mix people up next time”.
You can’t help scoff, retorting “Mix people up? I wasn’t even looking at you! Am I just supposed to sense how many biological eyes you have?”.
“You should look whenever someone enters a room,” Wolffe begins to lecture you “that’s protocol 101; always be aware of your surroundings”.
“My apologies, Commander, I didn’t realise I came here to get a lesson in GAR protocol” you snap back. This is a usual occurrence whenever you and Wolffe are near each other, neither of you backing down and arguing until you’re separated by the others.
With the rolls of his eyes, Wolffe gestures towards the door “Just go, I have an important meeting in here”.
“With pleasure” you mumble, trying to move around the Commander without walking straight into him or colliding with the multiple cabinets.
Wolffe leans to the side, huffing loudly just to make sure you know this is a bother to him, giving you space to step over one of his legs and move to the door.
Your fingers brush against the control panel to the door, lighting it up. Nothing happens. You wait a few moments before doing it again but this time you press harder on the panel. Still nothing.
“Huh…” you crease your brow, repeating the action for a third time.
You hear some movement behind you and Wolffe turns his body to face you, peering over your shoulder at the control panel. With his critical gaze on you, you try again but to no avail. 
“Are you pressing it hard enough?” his voice is gruff and surprisingly close to your ear. 
You jerk your head away from him “Jeez, are you trying to make me go deaf? Of course I’m pressing it hard enough!”. With extra force, you press down on the control panel again. 
Nothing. 
Wolffe rolls his eyes, reaching his arm around you and trying it himself “Obviously you’re not if the door isn’t opening”. Stabbing his finger at the control panel, you hear a small “...oh” from behind you when the door still refuses to open. 
“Move over, let me have a proper look at it” Wolffe puts his hands on your shoulders, abruptly guiding you away from the control panel as you both switch places in a shuffling motion.
Now with Wolffe closest to the door, you lean against one of the cabinets, firmly planting your hands on the cool metal. 
You can feel your face becoming flushed, a surge of warmth spreading across your cheeks. The door will open, of course it will. This is just a small malfunction, that’s all. And then you can leave this stupid closet and never come back here again. 
Trying to distract yourself, you decide to subject yourself to small talk with Wolffe. 
“So, why are you here anyway?” you ask, your grip tightening on the shelves as if you’re bracing for impact. 
Wolffe keeps his focus on the control panel, fiddling with it as he answers “The General wants to meet me in here, says it’s something important”. 
Are you hallucinating or did he just say the General? Clarifying, you ask “General Plo wanted to talk to you… in a supply closet?”.
“That’s what I said”.
“And the General said this to you himself?” you pry, trying to ignore the loud thudding of your heart. 
“Not exactly” putting his hands on his hips, Wolffe pauses his investigation of the control panel “hmm, it was Comet and Boost. They said he wanted to meet me here”.
You force out a small laugh “And you believed them? Really?”.
Wolffe says something you don’t quite catch, something in Mando’a. Running his hand down his face, he gives the control panel a death stare for good measure. 
“The bad news is the door is locked from the outside, so I can’t open it from here but the good news is the maintenance droids run on a tight schedule so one of them should be…” glancing over his shoulder at you, his words fail him and for a moment, Wolffe’s taken aback.
The puzzled look on the Commander’s face makes you feel even worse, an overwhelming feeling of dread consuming your senses. “What? What is it?” you question, your tone a little too confrontational but thankfully Wolffe doesn’t bite back (for once).
“Why is your face so red?”.
Your stomach twists in directions you’re not sure it’s meant to, utterly embarrassed by such a question. Averting your gaze, your eyes lock onto the shelves that line the room, so cluttered it feels like they’re swarming you.
If you reach your arm out, you could touch almost any shelf. Could you do that beforehand? Is the room getting smaller?
With the surprisingly gentle call of your name, Wolffe brings your attention back to him, his hands out in front of him as if he’s trying to tame a wild animal. “Just tell me what’s wrong,” he coaxes, moving closer to you “are you hurt? Is that why you're in here?”.
With his hand a mere inch from touching you, you flinch, pressing yourself deeper into the cabinet as you screw your eyes shut. It’s not that you don’t mind being touched but the thoughts of feeling such a dominant presence as well as the cramped aura of the room makes your stomach churn. 
“No, no, I don’t like this room,” you blurt out, voice beginning to shake as you continue “everything feels too tight, it’s all too close, I-I don’t like it”.
Wolffe can handle fighting battle droids, kriff, he can even hold his own against a sith but this? He knows he’s out of his depth but Wolffe also knows this isn’t the time to freeze, not when it’s you. Right now, you need him and he’ll be damned if he doesn't help.
He notices your tight grip on the shelves, your knuckles turning white as if you’re holding on for dear life. “Do you want to sit down?” Wolffe keeps his voice uncharacteristically soft, stooping to the ground in the hopes you’ll follow. 
Hesitantly opening your eyes, you scan the floor below. It’s covered in loose, discarded items that once sat on the shelves but have since been looked over and forgotten.
Is there any part of this closet that’s clean? That doesn’t feel crowded? Your head pangs, pain lingering across your forehead. 
You let out a whine. Wolffe keeps one of his hands stretched out to you, opening his palm wide “Don’t be stupid about this, let me help you”. 
You don’t think he can help, in fact you don’t think anyone can help you right now. But then your gaze meets his. Wolffe looks up at you with calm, hopeful eyes, his rough exterior and brazen nature slowly melting away. 
You try to take a deep breath but the tightness in your throat makes it an impossible task. You don’t want to take his hand, you don’t even want to look at Wolffe right now, the embarrassment of your involuntary actions making you feel worse. But what other choice do you have? It’s not like you can walk away, you can barely take a step forward without face planting a cabinet.
Nervously nodding your head, you take his hand. Wolffe tentatively encloses his hand around yours, watching your reaction closely. At any sign of further discomfort or even the slight jerk of your hand, he would let go, not wanting to accidentally make matters worse. 
“Good… finally, you actually followed an order” he jibes, the subtle smirk on his face letting you know he’s not purposely dissing you. Although this is a comment you’d usually roll your eyes at, you weirdly find comfort in his typical teasing. 
With his hand to steady you, you slowly lower yourself to the ground. “There you go,” Wolffe comments “were you hurt? During the last battle?”. He knows you said it’s the room causing this but he doesn’t see how that’s possible. Not unless this was somehow caused by an injury you sustained in battle, one that’s only rearing its head now.
You shake your head, though that only makes you feel dizzy. “No, no… i-it’s too tight, this room, I need to get out,” you reply through laboured breaths.
Keeping one hand enclosed around yours, Wolffe uses his other hand to reach up and try the control panel again. He sighs when nothing happens. 
Letting out a small whimper, you slip your hand out of Wolffe’s, using both of your hands to pull your knees up against your chest as you hang your head low. 
You’ll never hear the end of this. Out of all the clones aboard, why did it have to be Wolffe in here? The one person you know will bring this up at a later date just to get the upper hand in an argument. 
What makes it worse is that you know he’ll only view you as being weak after this. Wolffe is a man that’s been through so much in his life, surviving a countless number of battles, disasters and attempts on his life. The heavy feeling of shame makes you hold onto your knees tighter. Wolffe is such a strong soldier and here you are, crumbling because of a locked door.
The soft sound of your name drags you away from your internal self-criticism, followed by a poking sensation on your leg.
Barely looking up, you see Wolffe prodding your knee, repeating your name again as he adds “I can’t help unless you give me something to work with, tell me what I can do”.
Wolffe has always had mixed feelings about you but that doesn’t mean he wants to see you upset. Sure, you’re stubborn… and feisty… and a headache to work with but in fairness, you’ve always been there for the Wolfpack. 
After a tough fight, you’ve helped them bandage up. When you don’t have full faith in a plan (usually one of Wolffe’s) you’ll create a backup plan for when things inevitably go off track. Even on those quiet rotations, when memories filled with loss and regret begin to flood his brother’s heads, you’re there, listening to them. You’re a comforting presence in many of their lives, even Wolffe’s.
But don’t even ask him to say that out loud. That’s never going to happen.
He pokes you again “C’mon, it’s not like I’m going anywhere… even if I wanted to”. You huff out a laugh, though that proves harder than you initially thought, your dry mouth making the laugh sound more like a cough.
If you don’t get out of here soon, you think you might get sick, the anxious feelings in your stomach continuing to gnaw away at you. 
“I… I need to get out, I need to leave” with newfound determination, you begin to stand. 
The second you plant your feet on the ground, you know it’s a bad idea, feeling your muscles tremble. It’s as if you can feel each and every one of your nerves twitching, your body involuntarily trembling with panic.
Wolffe is quick to follow suit, trying to stand without knocking into one of the shelves. “Woah, take your time” he says a bit more sharply than he anticipated. 
“No, let me leave, I need to-“ before you can even finish your sentence, your legs go from underneath you. You drop, about to crash back onto the ground when Wolffe catches you, scooping you up in his arms.
“What did I tell you?” He mutters with a huff, fully enclosing his arms around you as he lowers you back down to the ground. “Stay low,” he orders “the last thing either of us need is you fainting and smacking your head against the floor”.
You thought the feeling of someone else near you would make this worse, adding a new layer of suffocation to your mixture of emotions. But it’s actually kinda nice, the warmth radiating from Wolffe acting like a warm, welcoming blanket of comfort. 
Being in the professional setting of the GAR for so long, you’ve forgotten how soothing physical touch can be at times. Although your reaction is subtle, Wolffe notices how you faintly lean into him, your head a mere few inches from resting on his chest. He watches you for a moment, studying your face. 
Thankfully, you have your eyes closed again so he’s not worried you’ll catch him staring at you. Even though you’re in the middle of a panic attack, you look more relaxed than usual. Or at least more relaxed than how you usually are around Wolffe. 
Whenever he sees you, it’s only a matter of time before you both get worked up, the two of you bickering or making not so subtle jabs at one another. But looking at you now, there’s not a single trace of that annoyance he normally associates with you.
“Just relax, take some deep breaths” he encourages you, using his hand that’s resting on your upper back to give you a gentle nudge towards him. Wolffe isn’t sure how else to let you know it’s ok to relax against him, seeing the option of saying it directly being too awkward. 
He gives you a small smile and an approving nod as you do exactly that, letting your body fall against him as you rest your head on his chest.
Your hand comes up to his chest too, clutching onto the firm fabric of his Commander’s uniform, something you’re grateful he’s wearing considering his plastoid armour would be way too uncomfortable to relax against.
With your eyes still closed, you attempt to take some deep breaths, your breathing hitching every now and again. You try to sync your breathing up with Wolffe’s, finding the rhythmic rise and fall of his chest to be a lulling piece of comfort.
The tight sensation that grips your heart doesn’t fade instantaneously but you have to admit, it’s nice having someone close. It gives your mind something else to focus on instead of the cramped room, Wolffe’s presence distracting you from your worries.
The only time Wolffe ever expected you to be this close to him is if you had enough of his shit and decided to swing for him. Never in a million years would he imagine you being so peaceful and close to him.
With your voice coming out as a small whisper, you mumble “Thank you”. 
His heart beats faster at your small piece of gratitude, something Wolffe hopes you can’t hear through his uniform. He’s not used to things like this. Give him a blaster and Wolffe can handle himself just fine but holding someone and trying to comfort them? That’s not his strong suit. 
Taking a deep breath, you speak again, this time projecting your voice a bit more. “Did you really think you were meeting Master Plo here?” you sniffle, your head still aching but thankfully, the pain’s beginning to dull. 
Wolffe has to stop himself from doing another eye roll, not wanting to start a fight or get you worked up again. “That’s what I was told” he grunts.
To his surprise, you let out a small, genuine laugh. It makes his hands twitch, wanting to pull you even closer and relish in your laugh but he resists the urge. 
“And who told you that again? Oh yeah, Comet and Boost, two troopers known for their unwavering seriousness and hatred for pranks” you laugh, something Wolffe is thankful to hear again. 
“Alright you got me there,” he admits, knowing it wasn’t the smartest move to believe his troublesome brothers “but why are you in here? Did they say the same thing to you?”.
“Actually it was Sinker,” you reveal, getting rather comfy leaning against the Commander “he asked if I could get some bacta patches he accidentally dropped behind the cabinets”.
You can feel Wolffe deflate, puffing out a deep breath “Please tell me you didn’t actually believe that”.
“Why?” You crane your head to look up at him, watching as he tries to suppress his annoyed expression. 
Although you’d never say this outloud, he looks nice like this. Looking up at him in this position gives you a great view of his jawline, both of his eyes peering down at you and a genuine smile playing at his soft lips.
Damn, maybe you did actually hit your head. Trying to refocus on what he’s saying, you push any admiration you have for the Commander deep, deep down.
“Because the batca patches are stored on the upper deck,” removing one of his hands from you, he runs it down his face “kriff, you’ve been on this ship for months and you don’t even know where the batca patches are stored”.
While you would normally jeer back a response or scoff at Wolffe’s remark, immediately becoming defensive, you find it hard to do that after everything that’s happened. 
You finally feel relaxed again, a calmness settling in your stomach and putting your heart at ease. You’re in no mood to start a fight and frankly, you don’t think you have the energy for it either.
Instead you laugh again. After all, Wolffe has a point. You should’ve known where the bacta patches are kept and if you did then you wouldn’t be in this predicament. It was a silly mistake and at this moment, you can’t find the energy within you to do anything but laugh. 
Wolffe chuckles too, appreciating your reaction. Shrugging, he admits “Can’t blame you too much, it was only last week I realised the caff machine in the mesh hall has more than one setting”.
“Seriously?” you laugh again “But the default setting on that thing tastes like droid oil”.
“I know that all too well” Wolffe shakes his head, almost tasting the sour caff on his tastebuds from the mere mention of it.
You open your mouth to speak again but before you can, the door slides open, the bright lights from the corridor making you squint. A droid whirls into the room, taking no notice of you and going about it’s own business. 
And just like that, your time with Wolffe is over. 
Giving him a small smile, you climb off of him, getting to your feet. Watching Wolffe stand too, a sudden awkwardness hangs over you. Is that it? What do you say now? Thanks for the help but I’ll still call you out the next time you’re a jerk?
Noticing Wolffe’s expression, it’s clear you’re not the only one feeling this way. “Well, I guess that’s that” he nods, gesturing for you to leave the closet. You do so gratefully, shuffling past the droid and stepping into the wide and spacious hallway. 
When Wolffe steps out, you’re sure you see a flicker of reluctance in his eyes. But you quickly brush past it, blaming it on your vision still adjusting to the bright lights. 
“Are you going to be okay from here?” Wolffe asks, though it takes you a few moments to process his words, Wolffe’s head hanging low and voice just above a whisper. You’re not sure why he’s talking so low, it’s not like there’s many troopers on the lower deck to overhear. 
“Yeah,” you try to sound confident in your answer “I’ll take it easy for the rest of the rotation, just in case”. In an effort to persuade him, you give Wolffe a quick smile. 
“Right, well you know how to contact me if you need me…” he replies before realising how soft that sounds, immediately breaking eye contact with you and clearing his throat “or just go to the medbay, yes, that’s the better option, do that instead of contacting me. I’m very busy today”
“Busy getting stuck in closets?” you playfully tease, trying to brush past this awkward energy. 
He chuckles “Better me than you”. Kriff, that sounds too soft too. Wolffe’s not a tender, warm hearted kinda guy, so he’s not sure why he’s trying to be that around you, even if it’s subconsciously. 
Quickly shoving his feelings to one side, Wolffe chalks it up to your rare vulnerable moment bringing out his protective nature. That’s it. The next time he’ll see you, things will be normal, none of this small talk or softened expressions to one another.
With the curt nod of his head, the Commander walks away. It’s true, he does have a lot to do today but if you were to contact again, he’d be there in a heartbeat… even though he’s not exactly sure why he’d feel so much urgency to be there for you again. 
You blink a few times, surprised by his abrupt exit. But then you remember this is Wolffe so his sudden departure should’ve been expected. After all, he’s “so busy”. Rolling your eyes, you walk in the opposite direction, deciding to track down Sinker and give him a piece of your mind.
828 notes · View notes
starrylothcat · 10 months
Text
💕Clone Commander NSFW Headcanons💕
A/N: Headcanon/Drabble bullet list about our dear, dear Commanders. I’ve been having major feels about them lately.
Sorry if it’s crap lmao I wrote it on my lunch. It’s what came to my head first for each and I needed to get these thots out of my brain! 🤣
Warnings: NSFW. 18+. Clone Commanders x Reader. (Mayday, Cody, Wolffe, and Fox)
Pls enjoy~
Mayday
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There’s making love, and then there’s making love with Mayday.
This man WORSHIPS you like the god(dess) you are.
He knows every inch of your body, every part of you that makes you giggle, sigh, moan, beg for more, etc.
He’s very intimate and loving, and gets off on getting you off.
Mayday wants nothing more than to pleasure you and treat you with the utmost reverence.
Favorite position: Missionary. Mayday wants to be as close as possible and look you in the eyes as you fuck, seeing how much pleasure you’re receiving and how good he’s making you feel.
He loves when you wrap your legs/arms around him and pull him impossibly closer, seeing every expression on your face as he thoroughly takes care of you.
Praise praise praise. Mayday loves whispering to you how good you are for him, how incredible you feel, how much he loves you, etc. He loves hearing it back, too
Idk I just think he’d be an intensely romantic partner and treat you so right 🥰
Cody
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This man is precise and in control at all times.
Cody doesn’t want to rush. He’s a man who takes his time to undo you, warming you up to the point of you begging for him to just take you. He knows you inside and out.
BUT call him “sir” or “Commander” and it’s all over for him.
His dominant facade crumbles and loses his control, his hips driving faster and deeper into you with wild abandon.
Favorite position: You sitting in his lap since it gives him total access to your body.
Cody’s hands can roam and grope your thighs, ass, he can leave his marks on your neck and chest while being so close to you.
That’s really what he wants. Just to be close.
Hearing your whines, the sighs of his name as you bounce on his cock. It really gets him going. He knows that you’re his and he is yours.
He’ll groan orders hotly in your ear to go faster, slower, when you’re allowed to cum, how perfect you are when you’re doing so, etc.
Cody is also a secret romantic. After, he’ll kiss your hands, your cheeks, your eyelids, your forehead.
He loves laying with you after, feeling your body against his as you both doze off in one another’s arms.
Wolffe
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This man is intense, but passionate.
Loves being in control, his favorite thing in the world is hearing his name leave your lips in pleasured moans.
The louder you are, the better. It makes the man go feral knowing he’s making you feel this way.
Favorite position: you flat on your stomach and him laying on top of you.
He loves the carnal aspect of it, mounting you and driving deep, feeling your ass on his hips, his lips at your ear growling and groaning how you are his. He doesn’t last long in this position but it drives him absolutely wild.
Is a little possessive, gets off knowing no one else can make you feel like this.
After awhile of being in a relationship he’d be comfortable enough to let you take charge in the bedroom. It’s a vulnerable position for him and only something he’d allow with someone he fully truly trusts.
And when that does happen, he loves it. He might not admit it at first, but he’d ask for it again.
Wolffe’s aftercare is next level, though. When the wild fucking is over, he’ll curl up to you, kiss you so gently and clean you up, handling you with tender care.
He’ll murmur sweet words, making sure you’re okay and telling you how much he loves you.
Fox
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As we all agree, this man needs a damn break.
He loves being taken care of by you.
Fox doesn’t mind relinquishing some control and just laying back and letting you take charge of his pleasure.
That’s not to say he won’t reciprocate, he absolutely will. He loves giving oral and undoing you completely with his hands and mouth.
Favorite position: cowgirl / you on top. Seeing you take what you want and having the perfect view of your body while doing so just does it for him.
You can practically see his stress melt away as you ride him, his eyes never leaving yours as he thrusts almost desperately back up into you.
It’s the only time he can just get lost in you, and forget his burdens, even just for a little bit. You take such good care of him, and he you.
After you ride him and have your fill, he’ll spoon you and fuck you that way, slow and deliberate, kissing your shoulder and mumbling soft praises in your ear, wishing this could never end.
Being with you in this intimate way is his favorite distraction from his high-pressure job, and he’s going to enjoy every second of it.
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Taglist: @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @dukeoftheblackstar @king-chaos-world @blueink-bluesoul @wolffegirlsunite @the-cantina @523rdrebel
596 notes · View notes
nahoney22 · 6 months
Note
one more for me, you're doing such a good job
And (if possible) 🤭
you have the perfect lips for kissing
NSFW with Wolffe please? Congrats on the followers 🎉 🎉 female reader
4000 Followers Prompt List Celebration
Wolffe X F!Reader
word count: 737 words
NSFW
prompts:
“you have the perfect lips for kissing.”
“One more for me, you’re doing such a good job.”
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warnings: NSFW, 18+ only, explicit sexual content and language. Smut. Porn without plot. Kissing, neck kissing/sucking, fingering, oral (reader receiving), implied sex. Female Reader.
authors note: oh I love me some Wolffe smut. Thank you for the request Anon.
NSFW under the cut.
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Your back is slammed into your bedroom door by the force of a Clone flushed against you, his hands biting into your waist as his lips hit your neck, nipping and sucking on sensitive skin that made your legs shake.
You could feel him already through his blacks and you groaned in desire before Wolffe dragged at your hips, bringing you flushed to him as he sucked at the base of your throat.
“Wolffe… bed, please.” You beg, melting as you hear the low rumble of a chuckle. You gasp when he pulls back, the tenderness of your neck letting you know you were definitely marked by this man. Not that you were complaining.
“Eager, kitten?” He purrs, eyes locking onto yours that sends a heat straight to your core. How can one man be so gorgeous?
“Always,” you smirk, giggling as Wolffe lifts you over his shoulder and makes a bee-line straight to your bed. He drops you onto it, the mattress breaking your fall and watch in awe as he swiftly maneuvers over you, staring adoringly down at you.
“Did you know,” he says quietly, bringing a hand to your face, his thumb tracing over your lips that were begging to be touched, “you have the perfect lips for kissing.”
And before you could reply, his mouth is on yours, filling you with lust and need as your lips meet his in a heated, desperate embrace.
He was still kissing you when he began pushing your pants down, feeling how your legs were shaking for him. His arm snaked under your waist, lifting your shirt over your head while you helped by kicking off your boots and socks with your toes. When he pulled his mouth away, he lowers you carefully back onto the mattress. With his hand, he caught sight of your panties, eyes blown at the alluring material and patterns.
You shivered under his stare, feeling completely open and exposed as Wolffe was still wearing his civvie clothes. To which, it wasn't long until he was standing and stripping in front of you. Not stumbling or fumbling once.
“Spread your legs,” he instructed as he kneeled in between your legs as you tried to sit up to look at him. He shook his head, tutting as he pressed a gentle hand in between your breasts, exerting the smallest amount of pressure. “No, no… you lean back,” he rasps, sliding his hand now down your body, past your naval and then to your thighs.
“Commander,” you groaned, knowing it got him all hot and bothered as you arch your back as he moved his hand ludicrously slowly against you, both hands now pressing on your thighs, opening your legs more for him.
“Stars, what a pretty pussy you have.” He mutters more to homself than he does for you
You lost all thought as Wolffe slid his hand toward the inside of your leg, digits just caressing over your folds and your hips jerk when his thumb ghosts over your clit.
He makes an incoherent noise, a subtle groan if you may before he leans down to taste you, feeling how drenched you are already between your thighs. He flicked his tongue across your clit before curling a finger inside you. He looks up from between your legs, his mouth still attached to your cunt to put a face to the breathy sighs, curses, gasps and pants you were letting out.
He grins devilishly, the noise of him lapping at your pussy lewd and wet but you wanted more as your fingers move into his hair, tugging on his scalp.
“O-oh fuck Wolffe,” When you said his name, his heart flutters and he wanted nothing more than to bury himself inside of you. He rested a gentle hand on your thigh, finger still pulsing and curling inside you.
His pace became unrelenting and he was starting to get desperate, hard and leaking as he began rutting against the bed sheets.
It’s only moments before you were shuddering under him, moaning his name as your toes began to curl, beads of sweat dripping down your face as you felt your orgasm hit.
“Fuck me, Wolffe. Please fuck me.” You breathed shakily, legs still twitching as he sucked on your juices.
He would be only too happy to obey. But, he wasn’t done with tasting your pussy just yet. “One more for me, you’re doing such a good job.”
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arctrooper69 · 1 year
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hiii! i just found your hurt/comfort dialog prompt list you had tagged and i'm such a sucker for that kind of stuff. could you please do prompt 34. "you're covered in blood, need to tell me something?" with wolffe? maybe even a little bit of prompts 20 and 35 from the the hurt/comfort sprinkled in there too? i absolutely adore your work and your such a fantastic writer, i look forward to everytime you post, and you do such a beautiful job on your writing that i can't wait to read this once it is done (if you decided to do it) . feel free to change it how you want, and thank you for taking time out of busy day to read this. love you <333
Hey! I'm so glad you've been enjoying my work! Sorry it took me awhile to get this out to you. I had so many ideas for it but I couldn't decide what I wanted to do. Hope you enjoy it! 😁
Prompt# 20: "How long did you think that you could hide that?"
Prompt# 34: "You're covered in blood, need to tell me anything?"
Prompt# 35: "It's just a headache, I'm fine."
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Love is a Battlefield
The new General doesn't want to ask for help. Commander Wolffe does so anyway.
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Warnings: Blood. Angst. Battlefield scenes. Hurt/Comfort.
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"Okay, today officially sucks." You grumbled under your breath, cursing whatever cosmic Force led you to be in your current state. Groaning you dragged yourself back over the ledge and collapsed in the mud. Everything hurt. Your clothes were stiff with dried and drying blood and at this point, you weren't sure if it belonged to you or to those damn splox who's nest you'd fallen into. Probably both.
Ok, now to find the rest of the company. You were sure that you hadn't strayed too far from the battlefield when you'd been drug off by battle droids and thrown from a cliff in the resulting fight. But hey, at least you took them down with you. You thought, cracking a smile. Master Plo would've been proud. On the other hand, you frowned, you had gotten separated from everyone else - so maybe not so much.
You drew a sharp breath between your teeth. A burning, grating feeling radiated from your side as you stepped over a rock and nearly fell to the ground. You paused for a moment to let your tunneling vision focus again, fighting back the urge to throw up. Maybe some of the blood was actually yours. The trek back to camp was going to take much longer than you expected.
Good. Maybe that would give you time to mull over the conversation you'd had yesterday morning with the commander of you battalion.
You were sure it was the reason that Commander Wolffe was ignoring you earlier today.
***
You'd chosen to continue on with the battalion after Master Plo had received an urgent message from the Council, recalling him from the field. Wolffe disagreed.
"You're injured!" He snapped, more forcefully than intended.
You sighed rolling your eyes. "It's just a headache. I'm fine. You know I've had worse, Commander." It was more than a headache, probably a concussion due to the nausea and dizziness that currently plagued you. But he didn't need to know that.
Wolffe pinched the bridge of his nose.
"General, I saw that spider droid fling you halfway across the battlefield. Can you at least go to medical to get checked out? I need you-" He froze, then coughed quickly, trying to pass off his slip-up as though he'd been interrupted mid sentence. "We. We need you. Your men need you at your best, general."
He coughed again and quickly left the room, leaving you frozen in place.
***
Did he really say that? You replayed his words in your head over and over again.
"I need you."
You couldn't deny that it had shaken you. You couldn't deny that it had hit you in such a way that made your whole body tingle and flood with warmth. As much as you tried to suppress it and convince yourself it was nothing, you had found yourself staring at the Commander a lot recently. The way he confidently carried himself, the subtle spark in his eye, the way he cared for his men even though he hid it behind that abrasive and sarcastic front - it was all so perfect. So attractive. So him.
No, he couldn't have meant it like that. You were his superior and even more importantly, you were a Jedi. No attachment allowed. He definitely couldn't have meant it like that. It was simply a slip of the tongue. He felt nothing for you and you felt nothing for him. You told yourself that your infatuation wasn't real. Commander Wolffe was a good solider and your fondness for him was simply a professional sense of pride. That's all.
Distant voices interrupted your brooding. Several clone troopers were searching high and low, calling out for someone but you didn't quite catch the name.
"Who are we looking for?" You walked up to the trooper closest to you. His shiny white armor was streaked with mud and ash - one of the new guys. Splash, they'd christened him on account of the puddle of mud he'd landed in immediately after jumping from the gunship into the field. It was hard to believe you'd only been here for three days. It felt like three years.
"We're looking for the General!" He explained hurriedly, hardly giving you a side glance.
Your heart dropped. Surely not Master Plo. Had he not left for Coruscant after all? Your hero and former master had seemed invincible ever since he'd chosen you to be his Padawan.
"General Plo Koon?" You asked hesitantly.
Splashed grunted as he stepped over a log. "No, the other one."
A wave of relief washed over you. You could've laughed out loud if your head wasn't so cloudy. Your side screamed with every step. You took a shallow breath, trying to ground yourself.
I am one with the force and the force is with me. I am one with the force and the force is with me.
Supplementing with the force wouldnt last long and it was draining, but it was better than the agony you'd been in. You took a deep breath, allowing the pain to become a whisper and looked back up at the clone.
"Well you found her!" You joked.
"What?" He stood up looking confused. Then he looked over at you.
Splash straightened up upon realizing that he had indeed found the General. He was glad he was wearing his bucket because he could feel his face turning red with embarrassment. He scrambled stiffly to attention. "Uhm, sorry Sir. I mean Ma'am. Uh, General." He stuttered, trying to compose himself. You chuckled, wincing as the movement pulled at your wounded side. Splash looked alarmed as if he'd just realized that his General was covered in blood. "Are you injured, Ma'am?"
You grit your teeth to hide the pain. "No, I'm fine, thank you. I believe it all belongs to the splox that I killed. Fell into a nest of em."
He looked at you, unsure if you were being serious or not, trying to recall if the regulation manuals told him what to do in a situation like this.
"We should probably make our way to medical, all the same." He concluded. "Just to be safe. Get you checked out and all." He offered his arm.
You shook your head. "No that's alright. They're much too busy right now, seeing as the battle has just ended."
"Well I'm sure..."
You put a hand up to stop him. "It's fine, Splash. I can take care of myself. Let's worry about making our way back to camp."
"Of course, General."
***
You made your way back to camp and bid Splash a farewell. Exhausted, you yawned and slowly made your way back to your tent, passing the Commander's tent on your way there.
"General!" Commander Wolffe sprang to his feet the moment he saw you. "Are you alright, ma'am?"
His eyebrows knit tightly together with a frown. If you didn't know better, you almost thought he looked concerned. Worried even. But that would be stupid. You were reading too much into it. He was simply a solider looking out for the welfare of his commanding officer. That's it. Nothing more.
"I'm good!" You grinned, hoping he didn't notice the way your teeth ground against the pain in your head and now your side.
Wolffe's face became unreadable.
"Just good!?" He growled. "General, you are covered in blood. 'Good' does not even begin to cover it. Do you need to tell me something?"
Yes. I think I'm in love with you.
"No not really." You nonchantly shrugged. "It's not mine. Fell into a nest of those giant splox beetles and had to take em out before they ate me. You know how it is."
Wolffe rolled his eyes. He didn't believe you, but what could he do? He wasn't your superior, he couldn't order you to tell him. He made a note to ask Cody and Rex to let him into the clones-with-stubborn-generals club. He could sure use some advice.
"Could you be anymore bull-headed?" he wanted to yell at you as you left the room, interpreting his silence as the end of that conversation.
Wolffe groaned in frustration. Why did he care so much? Why did the thought of you being wounded send waves of terror cascading through his core. You were acting strange, subtly walking as though every step sent agony shooting through your body thinking nobody would notice. He noticed. He wanted to pick you up in his arms and bandage your wounds. He wanted to softly kiss each scar on your skin.
You were a good leader. He understood wanting to be tough, wanting to be strong for the soldiers under your command. If he was honest with himself, he did the same.
You trudged wearily back to your tent, ignoring the pain that was slowly returning to full force with a vengeance as though it was angry at being willed into submission.
You made it a point to avoid medical. The dwindling amount of medical supplies worried you. It was only a matter of time before they would run out if they weren't sent relief. The chief medical officer had drastically downplayed the dire straits the company was in when you asked him. You'd seen the inventory. It was scarce. It wouldn't be right, going to medical right now. Not when you could most likely patch yourself up with the small medkit by your bunk. The clones made up the backbone of the GAR, it was only right that they take priority over you.
***
It was a miracle of the Force that you hadn't passed out by the time you reached the tent. Biting your lip to keep you from making too much noise, you peeled off your shirt to assess the damage, grabbing a towel from the shelf.
You bit back a pained moan and your vision swam as you gripped the edge of your cot to steady yourself. A large gash curled around the side of your chest from the bottom of your breast to your hip. The torn skin bled heavily, quickly turning the towel a crimson red.
This was...not good.
The com chirped, making you jump. You felt dazed and exhausted. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath before answering the com. Sergeant Sinker's brisk voice echoed from the device.
"General, the clankers are moving in from the North. They've engaged the front and the 501st is calling for aid. What are your orders?"
Your men needed you. Who were you to ignore them? What kind of leader would you be if you sent them off while you stayed behind. "A good leader leads by example" Master Plo always said. You were tired of the animalistic way the clones were treated - as if they were only droids or worse. You would be there for your men, fighting right up front beside them. Right beside Commander Wolffe.
You lit up the com. "Proceed with the request, Sergeant. I'll be there shortly."
You looked at the medkit. Well, so much for that. You quickly taped up the wound and slapped some bacta treated gauze on it. Then you quickly changed your clothes, willing yourself to ignore the nauseating pain. You steadied yourself with a hand on the wall before wiping the cold sweat from your clammy skin. You tried to breathe, once more closing your eyes in meditation once again squashing down the pain. The show must go on. The General must lead her men into battle.
***
General Skywalker was right to call for aid. The Separatist forces were throwing everything they had at you. You jumped over the guns of a tank, slicing through the controls to disable it. Droid after droid came at you from all sides and you cut them down. If only the Commander could see you now in all your glory.
An explosion knocked you off your feet, wrenching you from your stupor. Pain surged through your body as you pushed yourself to your feet. The continuous onslaught of enemy forces wasn't so fun now. You began to realize just how tired you were. Trying to catch your breath felt as futile as swimming in honey. Your mind felt sluggish and your arms felt like lead. A B2 took aim and fired. You saw him fire and raised your saber to block but it was a fraction of a second too slow and the blast hit your shoulder. Kriff. You hit the ground hard, letting the awful, searing pain wash over you. You wanted to close your eyes. You wished you could just rest. Just for a moment.
Your eyes flew back open. No. The men need you. Get up. Shakily you forced yourself to your knees and onto your feet. One more time. You knew this was abusing the force but it was for an honorable reason. Right?
I am one with the force and the force is with me. I am one with the force and the force is with me. Pain is temporary. Accept it simply as a signal sent by the body. Accept the pain. Respect it. Don't fight it. Ask your body to begin to heal.
You let out a feral scream, pouring every last ounce of energy and willpower into your prayers, knocking back an entire wave of droids. And then you felt nothing.
***
My head. The first thing you noticed upon regaining consciousness was the skull splitting headache that you could almost feel radiating down your entire body. It felt as though someone was spearing red hot needles through your eyeballs, twisting them through the many sections of your brain. The pain made you nauseous.
An agonized wheeze drifted from your lips as you tried to raise your hands to cup your face. When did my arms get so heavy? Pain shot through your side and shoulder as you tried to move. Panic gripped you when you couldn't.
"Ah kriff," a gruff voice cursed. "Hey! General. General, it's okay. Calm down. You're safe." You'd know that voice anywhere - it was the only clear thing that cut through the haze of pain. Commander Wolffe.
He barked a command at someone and after a few minutes the pain had loosened it's claws. It wasn't much but it was better than before.
"What do you need, General? Are you still in pain?"
"Lights," you managed to groan. Even that took too much energy and you desperately hoped that you wouldn't be sick in front of the Commander.
Wolffe immediately jumped from his chair, quickly shutting off the lights. That helped some, but not much. It still felt like your head was being lobotomized by a pickaxe. Your side and shoulder felt like they'd been broken off and trampled by a bantha. A bantha that was on fire maybe.
"You are so kriffing stubborn, you know that!?" Wolffe growled. Seeing you wince, he lowered his volume but continued with the hard and bitter tone.
"How long did you think you could hide that!? Hmm?" He motioned to your side.
"You almost died yesterday." He said, softening his voice ever so slightly.
Wolffe looked tired. His eyes were sunken and even his cybernetic one had a dark shadow beneath it. He looked like he hadn't shaved or showered since the battle. His grey armor was still scuffed up with dirt and grime. A small bacta patch adorned his right eyebrow.
You looked away, shame burning at the corners your eyes, adding to the overwhelming pressure in your head. You failed him and now he hated you. You turned your head away from him wincing at the pain but you couldn't bear to have him see the tears that rolled down your cheeks.
"Look at me." A command. He didn't have the authority to give you a command, but you felt compelled to comply all the same. Hastily wiping your eyes in a futile attempt at seeming alright, you turned towards him. Your breath caught as he wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling it from your face.
"Stop kriffing pretending that you're okay." Still a command, but this one felt softer. His voice still held the rough, bitter edge that defined him so well but as you met his eyes, they held an uncertain gaze of vulnerability.
"Your men need you alive. They care about you, General." He paused, pacing back and forth in the dark room. He came to a stand still by the foot of your bed, refusing to meet your gaze, as though he had something he wanted to say. Finally he took a deep breath and slowly let it out.
"Oh kriff it." He snapped. "I care about you, damnit!" He shook his head and began to pace again, the anger returning to his visage.
"General Plo said you could've died." He spat. "He said that you had spread yourself so thin, used up so much energy that you could've killed yourself. Do you..." He cut himself off and took another breath, clenching his fists tightly. "Do you know what that would've done to this company. Do you know what that would've done to me!?"
There was fire in his eyes when he looked back up at you. "It would've killed me too."
You lay there in your bed staring at him - shocked at this outburst. What was he saying? That he cared for you? That he loved you? That he thought about you as much as you thought about him?
"I.." you began softly.
"No. I'm not done."
You shut your mouth.
"General, when you came back to camp covered in blood, I had to restrain myself from throwing you over my shoulder and taking you to medical myself. I knew something was wrong but I trusted that you knew what you were doing. It was the same when I saw you collapse yesterday. It took everything in me not to race to your side."
He shook his head, disappointed in himself, and angry with you. "I should be holding the line with my men, not babysitting my General!"
You stared blankly ahead, letting his anger wash over you. So that's how he saw you. That solves one problem, you tried to convince yourself. It was good that he didn't reciprocate your feelings. That made it easier to cleanse yourself of any feeling of attachment. But then why didn't hurt so bad? Why did it feel like a part of your soul had been sawed away? Wasn't letting go of your emotions supposed to bring you peace? This crushing weight of disappointment and heartbreak was anything but peace.
The room was quiet save for the beeps and whirs of the medical equipment around you. The silence felt deafening. Then finally Wolffe let out a sigh.
"I'm....sorry..." The words dragged themselves reluctantly from his mouth.
You didn't respond.
The bed buckled slightly as Wolffe sat down on the edge. He tentatively rested a hand gently on your back, expecting you to recoil or stiffen under his touch. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as you leaned into his touch instead.
He sighed, rolling his neck. "Look," he began awkwardly. "I'm not good at this kind of thing so I'm just going to be honest with you. I..." He stopped. You turned your face towards his. He took a breathe, not daring to make eye contact. "I think I'm in love with you. Kriff. No, I know I'm in love with you."
You gasped, the dam broke and tears began to stream down your face.
Wolffe jumped up, startled and clearly embarrassed. "I...I mean... I... I didn't mean..." The normally confident Commander stumbled over his words in a shameful horror.
"No," you sobbed. You felt so relieved. Everything felt right again. "You didn't do anything wrong." He looked down at you, eybrows knitted upwards in confusion. "Then why..." He motioned to your tearful face.
"Because I love you too and I was afraid that you hated me. I was afraid that everyone would see me as a terrible General. And also my everything hurts and..." you sobbed, "...and I love you so much."
Wolffe looked down at you with amusement and a strange softness took hold of his features - a foreign look for his usually serious demeanor.
"You look nice when you smile," you whispered with a small grin. "But you can go back to frowning if that's more comfortable for you."
Wolffe rolled his eyes as he settled down in a chair beside your bed. "You should get some sleep, General." Back to his serious old self again but he kept that twinkle in his eye. Only for you. he thought.
"I'll be right here when you wake up."
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sinfulsalutations · 10 months
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𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕟𝕠𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 ⋆*・゚𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕝𝕗𝕗𝕖
➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ʙᴏʀᴅᴇʀʟɪɴᴇ ꜰᴜʀʀʏ, ʀᴏᴜɢʜ-ɪꜱʜ ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ ꜱᴇx, ɢʀᴏᴡʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜɪ!!!
⋆ ★ ᴛᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ɢᴜɪʟᴛʏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴡᴀʏʏʏʏ ᴛᴏᴏ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴅ. ɴᴏ ᴊᴏᴋᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀɴ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀɴ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴏ 🥵🥵🥵 ɪ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʟɪᴋᴇ 5 ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴘᴏꜱᴛɪɴɢ, ꜱᴏ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴇꜱ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ᴇᴍʙᴀʀʀᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʏᴘᴏꜱ ʟᴍᴀᴏ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ᴅᴇᴘʀᴀᴠᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀꜱ :)
➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ
⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*・゚ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ
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He's rocking his hips in tandem with yours at the pace of a fucking rabbit. 
It literally took only about ten minutes when he returned to you from a long deployment to get you back in bed again, his body unable to stop itself from thrusting his tight codpiece into your core, looking composed yet utterly desperate for you. And now he’s had you like this, underneath him with your chest pressed to the mattress, squirming and gasping for almost thirty minutes now. He’s only just finally slipped his cock in.
How he's kept his stamina this high up for so long, getting you to come on his mouth and fingers and not even trying to take some pleasure for himself before finally splitting you open with his cock is difficult to figure out.
There's no space to think about that now, though. Not when a new sound has ruptured out of him.
At first, you don't even notice. You're too busy enraptured in your own release and just how damn good he feels inside of you. But then you feel the aftershocks, the vibrations of his voice as he slows his pace down for just a split second. You lift your chin up, tilting it to the side ever so slightly, with the smallest tinge of confusion on your face.
Did Wolffe just... growl?
Not even a typical kind of noise one might make when wrapped up in mind-numbing pleasure. It’s a type of noise that came from his pure, unadulterated, animal instincts.
Shit. Fuck. Why was that so hot?
“Wolffe?” You call out softly. There’s a large pause in the air, something thick. He lifts his body off of you, letting the cool air flow against your back. You sigh again and rest the side of your head on the mattress. 
“Hey…” You whine.
Wolffe doesn't respond; he graces you only with a dark grunt and pulls his hips back, pushing his body against your ass again with a hard thrust.
You can’t help but mewl in a meek voice, involuntarily clenching around him, but you don’t just forget immediately. He's still not kriffing responding to you. Not even a simple acknowledgment. Just expects to get right back to it as if he hadn’t just let out the most sinful noise fall from his mouth. Even worse is that you’re absolutely deadset on hearing it again. You can’t just continue like it was nothing.
So you decide to pull out the big guns.
“C'mon, I liked it,” You say with a vexatious, teasing tone, ending it with a borderline pornographic moan. To further effect, you pull your hips away, pushing yourself back onto his cock with a soft hum and resting your chin atop your shoulder. His eyes are cast onto yours without any intention of straying away, and his fingers curl rougher into your skin. He raises an eyebrow. You smirk victoriously and tilt your head with sweet, imploring eyes.
“Can you do it again for me?” The ask can’t be that big… can it?
He only grumbles, eyes finally looking away, and he moves to place his body back on top of yours. Like he’d never stopped, he rocks you again; a steady collision of each of your bodies with each other. You moan pleasantly, fingers curling into the mattress, but feel the difference in how he moves. His hands melodically, yet sporadically squeeze your hips, and you don’t even realize that his hand has moved and is slowly rubbing tight circles on your clit until the shiver runs through you.
“What do you want me to do for you?” He then asks, low and husked, against your ear.
The only thing that comes out of you is a whine because Wolffe blatantly decides to press onto your clit and thrust into you harder. There’s a giddy smile on his stupidly handsome face, and you know this without seeing it because of just how pronounced it is against your skin. “Gotta say it clearly, sweet doll.”
You’re just barely able to get your words out through desperate whines and soughs.
“Growl for me.”
A melodic hum is his only response, and he continues thrusting. You clench, once, twice, eyebrows furrowed. You try to sobber out his name, but it comes more jumbled; both of you can feel how absolutely wrecked you are.
Then, Wolffe finally speaks.
“Think you’re forgetting something important at the end there.”
Oh, this asshole.
“Please,” you beg anyway, because this asshole has you whipped. Then, only then, do you get what you want.
He sounds like an animal behind you, the rumble of his voice seeping into your skin like a snake, your entire body being inflicted with waves of absolute filth. Not just growls, even; he’s letting out the most deprived and primal noises leave his throat. How long has this pent up? Because there’s absolutely no way he’s just now susceptible to carnal noises from pleasure.
Either way, he sounds delighted.
You’re feeling just about the same as well.
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tags: @dukeoftheblackstar @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius
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dickarchivist · 7 months
Text
Don't Stop on my Account
Wolffe × Fem!Reader, new/budding relationship
MINORS BEGONE 🔞
Warnings: n s f w 18+, self pleasure, fantasizing, watching, unprotected PiV sex, overstim, yearning, touch of angst, and smut, so much smut
Summary: missing your new sweetheart's touch, you decide to go solo, only to discover you're not as alone as you thought you were 👀
Little over 1800 words
Author's notes: I haven't written in a long time so sorry if this is rough! Wolffe is my fav clone so this is incredibly self indulgent yeehaw. Also use protection!
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You'd been warned so many times. "Stay away from the republic clones, they're hot but there's no guarantees with them." Your friends know you well, you have the habit of falling for people a little too hard, a little too fast. And they were right, of course, you'd met plenty of clones that never came back. Even so, knowing all this: When Wolffe was around, all of your logic seemed to be thrown away.
You'd spent every night for a few weeks with him. As soon as he was allowed away from his post, and you with work, you'd find each other. In the morning he'd wake you before he left your flat with a soft kiss, just enough that you'd be able to fall back asleep once he was gone. Wolffe would make sure you knew he had a good time, and he was excited to see you again. The cycle repeated until one day, it didn't.
Wolffe doesn't wake you with a kiss that day, he tries to sneak out, but catches his boot on last night's clothes, and his stifled, "Kriff!" wakes you instead. He blushes when you look at him with a pout, hair tossed and body bare to him. "So you're leaving today, hm?"
"I uh... I am," Wolffe straightens up, putting on the cold stare he gave to others. You'd never seen it aimed at you before, and it makes you feel small. "I got my orders last night, headed--"
But that smallness only lives until "last night" tumbles from his lips. You sit up a little with betrayal clear on your face, angry now, "You got them last night and you didn't think to tell me?" You don't know why that hurts so much, but it does. It hurts more than you thought it ever would.
But he looks hurt too, his eyes heavy with guilt now as he glares at the floor, "I didn't know how, okay? This- this thing, it's new to me, kriff, you have me thinking I could--" He stops, and you wait for him to continue, but he just shakes his head and lets the thought die, "I'll be back soon."
"How soon?"
"Sooner than you think... but not as soon as we'd hope."
You want to be mad, stars you want to tell him to fuck off... But you find yourself instead getting out of bed and moving to kiss him. Wolffe doesn't hesitate to lean down and kiss you back, collecting you in his arms and holding you close. His armor feels cold against your bare skin and he chuckles when you pull away.
He admires your goosebumps, that cocky smirk on his face as he touches your body. His glove hand runs over your breast, circling your nipple, and you moan softly at his touch. Before you can even think, the words come out, "Please stay..."
The sadness returns to his eyes instantly, "I can't..." you stand in silence, before he takes your hand and squeezes it, then presses it to his lips, "Tell me to come back safe instead, Mesh'la..."
"No..." you set yourself against his chest, one hand were his heart would be as the other hugs around his waist, "I don't want you to leave at all. Stay with me."
Wolffe tilts your head to look at him. His voice is stern, but there's a plea in his eyes, a need to hear you say it, "Tell me to come back safe."
You get on your toes and place one more kiss to his lips, whispering against him, "Come home to me, Wolffe. Come home safe..."
"I will." He kisses you once more before he leaves you standing there alone.
You miss him. You miss him for a long time.
When you get back into bed, your mind goes back to the night before he left. You wish the sheets still smelled like him, and all you want is his touch, his warmth. The feeling of his hands on your body as he handles you, his lips on your skin, his teeth marking your neck, and his length deep within your walls.
"Wolffe..." you whimper, shutting your eyes. Your nipples are the last place you felt his bare handed touch, so you decide to start there, and you whimper again, "Wolffe..." as you feel yourself up.
When you start to rub your legs together, you lay yourself on your back and run one hand down your stomach. The memory of Wolffe's hand running the same course sending chills over you. You open your legs for yourself- no, for him. Always for him, you think to yourself, picturing Wolffe between your legs again.
You bite your bottom lip and moan as you slide your fingers between your folds. "F-fuck-- Wolffe~ oh~" He'd chuckle if he were there, you think, telling you how pretty your folds looks all wet for him, "O-only for you". Your fingers spread your slick from your entrance up to your clit, and you moan again, mimicking his tongue with your fingers.
"Wolffe, oh~" you feel yourself throb as you start rubbing circles into yourself. You have to use three fingers to match the size of his two, and you moan louder, "Fuck me, please, oh, ah..."
You let go of your nipple and bring your other hand down, teasing your entrance as you rub your clit. You can hear Wolffe in your head saying how needy you are, telling you to ask for what you want, and maybe he'll give it to you.
"I-I want you, I want you, please oh-" you slip two fingers inside your slick walls and clench around them, gasping, "Wolffe!!"
It's then that you hear a low chuckle, "You want me, hm?" and your eyes open. You're not sure how you willed him back. Your hands slow a bit, and Wolffe chuckles again, starting to remove his clothes, "Don't stop on my account Mesh'la. Go on, touch yourself. I want to see you."
Renewed blush burns your cheeks and shoulders as you watch him strip down to nothing but his small clothes. The bulge in his shorts makes you ache, but all he does is set his hands on your knees and spread you open a little more, "Keep going, I want to see how this plays out."
Wolffe watches your hands with hungry eyes as you do what your told. He kisses your inner thighs as your hand rubs faster against your clit, fingers curling inside your walls with a sweet wet smack. "Wolffe... I'm- I'm close, please..."
"Cum then," Wolffe bites your soft skin and you moan for him, clenching around your fingers, "When you cum, I'll give you what you want."
"I want you..." you pant, moving faster as you feel your climax building, "I want you, Wolffe, I want you, I--" he takes one of your nipples in his mouth, rolling it between his teeth, sucking and flicking it with his tongue.
Your hands move faster in your walls and on your clit, and as you spasm under your own touch, back arching off your bed, you scream his name, "Wolffe!! Oh!"
Before you can come down from your own pleasure, with your head still spinning, Wolffe begins to move. He takes your hands from yourself and places your slick fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean of your slick. When he's done with your hands, he puts them over your head, with a cocky chuckle, "Tell me what you want."
"I want you," You're so dizzy, but you open yourself to him and put your legs over his waist, "I want you Wolffe, please... please..."
"What do you want Mesh'la?" You can tell he's teasing you. He likes it when you get crude with him about your desires. Walking in on you masturbaiting to a fantasy of him must have done wonders for his ego, and it's showing. He rolls his hips forward, barely grazing your folds with his bulge, but it's enough to make you squirm and moan. "I'll ask again," he rolls his hips once more, "What do you want?"
Your heart pounds, and you lean your head to the side, "Fuck me!"
Your hips come up, trying to gain any friction, and you whine, turning to look at him again, "Fuck me Wolffe, I need you. Please!"
"Since you asked so nicely~" Wolffe leans back from between your legs and removes his shorts finally, freeing his length with a sigh of relief.
You expected him to climb back into the bed, but he pulls you forward by your spread legs, bringing you to the edge of the bed. You hook your legs around his waist again as he slides his length through your folds. Wolffe stimulates your clit with the head of his length, then slides it down to your entrance. He teases you a little, "Already prepped for me, hm? It's like you knew I'd want to be deep in you when I got back."
You open your mouth to retort, but all that comes is a drawn out moan as Wolffe's length fills you for the first time in what feels like an eternity. The clone gives his own grunt of content as he presses a hand onto your belly and fills you completely, "You feel so good, so wet for me."
"O-only for you..." you pant, hands gripping the sheets above you.
Wolffe smirks at you as he slowly drags his hips back, only to snap them forward quick and rough. A surprised, "Ah!" Comes from you, and your back arches. He does it again, and again, building speed until you're bouncing on his cock. He holds your waist and fucks into you hard, the sweet wet slaps of skin on skin filling your bedroom. The sounds mingle in the air with grunts and moans, names whispered and then yelled soon after.
You feel another climax starting to threaten, and you look up into Wolffe's eyes, seeing the same building pressure on his face. His hand goes to your clit and you scream his name in ecstasy as he fucks into you wildly, hips surging forward in sporadic hard thrusts. Wolffe grits his teeth as he spends himself deep within your walls, collapsing forward onto your shaking body as you both bask in the after glow.
Your arms tremble as you hug around his chest, moaning as he lazily rolls his hips with aftershocks. As Wolffe kisses your neck, you bury your face in his shoulder, placing your own soft kisses to his hot skin, "Welcome home, Wolffe..."
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coffeeandbatboys · 2 months
Text
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.
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