#commander wolffe fic

[hellfiresky]

Did you buy the jogan fruit?

Summary: Wolffe insists he hates your favourite show, but he knows all the characters (and has strong opinions). You insist his jogan tarts are the best, and you’re not above using affection to get one.

Pairing: Wolffe x F!Reader

Warnings: Sex. Smut. 18+. Minors DNI.

This smut probably isn’t the hottest thing out there, but that’s kind of the point. I like playing with the idea that sex doesn’t always have to be some romantic or hyper-intense performance - it can just be another part of a relationship. Sometimes, it’s just comfortable, something you do whilst catching up on your day, cracking jokes, or bickering over jogan fruit. It’s intimacy in the mundane, and gosh if you know me, you know how much I adore the mundane and the banal.

Smut ahead. Do not keep reading if you’re under 18!

Taglist: @orangez3st

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The sink was full with dishes you should’ve cleaned an hour ago, but you’d gotten distracted scrolling through something unimportant, and now the caf in your mug had gone cold. You rinsed it out, set it down. The chrono on the wall said late - but not too late. Late enough that Wolffe should be home soon. The apartment was quiet. Outside, the traffic droned on like white noise, Coruscant’s city lights slowly came alive over the window blinds. You rubbed at your neck, stretching a little, the warmth of the day still clinging to your skin. It had been a long one. Not bad, just… long.

You heard the familiar hiss of the front door sliding open. A heavy sigh. The unmistakable sound of armour moving. The clunk of heavy boots hitting the floor one by one. Then—

“Shinies need to get their shit together.”

You smiled to yourself, drying your hands on a towel as Wolffe stepped into the kitchen, rolling his shoulders like the weight of command hadn’t quite settled yet. His blacks hugged him, sweat around the collar, hair slightly mussed. He looked tired. More than tired.

“You sound like an old man.” You leaned against the counter, watching him.

“I am an old man,” he pressed his palms on his lower back with a slight wince. “Physically, at least.”

You snorted, reaching for the cupboard. “You want caf?”

“Nah.” He stepped behind you, pressing a quick, absentminded kiss to your temple before resting his chin on your shoulder, exhaling deeply. “Kriff. Today was long.”

“Yeah?” You rested your hands over his where they settled at your waist.

“Yeah. Shinies kept missing their marks in drills. Had to run ‘em through it five times before they stopped embarrassing themselves.”

“You sound so proud.”

“I would be! If they weren’t so damn slow.”

You chuckled, squeezing his fingers before slipping out of his hold. “Go shower, old man. I can smell the armour stank.”

He made a face. “You love it.”

“Debatable.”

He grumbled something under his breath but listened, taking off the armour pieces, and tugged his shirt over his head as he headed for the ‘fresher. The moment the door shut, you sighed, stretching again. The tiny kitchen droid blinked at you. The dishes still sat in the sink. The microwave probably needed fixing. None of it was urgent, none of it was important, but all of it was there. You rolled your shoulders, letting the familiar mundanity of it settle in.

“You want anything to eat? I made cream soup and bought that nerf burger on the way home from The Hub.” You called out from the bedroom, picking up his discarded blacks and tossing them into the shared laundry bin. The laundry droid from your go-to laundry by kilo place would swing by in the morning, same as always, before you headed back to the Hub. You’d set it up ages ago - automated pickups and drop-offs. It was a necessity, really. The last thing you wanted was to get flagged for laundering blood-stained blacks in the middle of CoCo Town. The GAR had its own facilities, sure, but with a commander practically living in your apartment whenever he wasn’t on the frontlines, his clothes had inevitably started blending in with yours.

No answer. He always took his time in the ‘fresher, you’ve always loved how steamy and warm your fresher would be after his shower, though. Your apartment sat on the surface level of Coruscant, tucked into a quieter corner of CoCo Town - close enough to the underworld portal for easy access, far enough from the worst of it to avoid unnecessary danger. A good spot. One you’d spent years curating. The Hub, though - that was deeper. Lower levels. A small co-working space with communal terminals, and workstations where slicers came and went, sharing access codes and decryption scripts over cups of stale caf. It wasn’t glamorous, but it was home - or as close as a place like that could get.

You grabbed a dirty shirt from the chair and tossed it to the bin alongside Wolffe’s blacks. The sheets on the bed were still messy from where you’d been lying earlier. You debated fixing them, but - nah. You’d just end up messing them up again soon enough.

The water shut off. Then Wolffe’s voice, rough from the steam filled the space.

“You ate yet?”

“Not really.”

A grumble. “Then I’ll take the soup. You can eat the burger.”

“Figured. I’ll heat it up.”

Dinner was nice. Well, as nice as homemade soup and a fast-food nerf burger could be. You both ate quietly at the small dinner table, the one that folded up into a workspace when needed, your favourite piece of modular furniture in the apartment. Easily the best thing you’d ever spent your adult credits on. Wolffe, freshly showered, dug into the soup. Between bites, he started grumbling about his most recent mission to Aleen - the same one he’d just returned from last week. Apparently, it had been hell. Not because of the planet itself, or even the mission, but because of some golden droid who wouldn’t shut up.

“He talked the entire time,” Wolffe shook his head. “I thought protocol droids were supposed to be helpful.”

“Maybe he was helpful. Just not in the way you wanted.”

Wolffe rolled his eyes before continuing. “You don’t understand. The relief mission itself? Fine. No problems. But that droid - he wouldn’t shut up. Narrated everything like some kind of sports commentator.” He scoffed. “Kept trailing behind me, throwing out ‘fun facts,’ trying to translate every little detail to the Aleenas.” He straightened slightly before straining his voice to a posh Coruscanti accent ‘We have been quite on an adventure, Commander Wolffe!’

That almost made you choke on your drink. “The fuck was that?!”

“Every. Damn. Minute.”

You let out a full belly laugh. It was kind of surreal, watching this man - Commander Wolffe, the guy who had lost an eye in the battle of Khorm to a Sith acolyte, who had once been stranded in the vacuum of space with only a handful of his men and still made it out alive - obsessing over what was, by all accounts, a fever dream of a relief aid mission.

“The Sith acolyte didn’t break you, getting spaced didn’t break you, but this droid did?”

Wolffe groaned, running a hand down his face. “I swear, I’d take another orbital skirmish over that mission any day.”

After dinner, Wolffe took over dish duty, cleaning plates in the sink whilst you made your escape to the bedroom. A fair trade - you cooked, he cleaned. It was an unspoken rule by now, one of the small, automatic rhythms of living together. You laid out on the bed, pulling up the latest episode of Sex and the Ecumenopolis - the old holoseries you were only watching because your friend had roped you into it. Wolffe hated it. Or at least, that’s what he claimed.

The bedroom door slid shut, followed by the sound of a dramatic sigh. “Naw, not this again.”

The mattress dipped as he threw himself down beside you. He barely spared the screen a glance before grabbing his datapad, thumbing through the reports his men had submitted.

You smirked, nudging his shoulder. “You know you don’t have to stay.”

“I was here first,” he muttered, eyes still on his datapad.

“You were not.”

Wolffe just grunted, scrolling through casualty assessments like he wasn’t very aware of the episode’s plot - because you knew he was. He’d sat through enough of this show to absorb its nonsense, no matter how much he insisted otherwise. And this episode? Oh, this one had gotten to him. Because the thing was, he had been outraged - outraged - about the tragic arc of Mireena and her doomed situationship with a man in a promotional sandwich costume. A sandwich, of all things.

“She was a lawyer,” Wolffe muttered under his breath, still flipping through reports. “And he was a sandwich. That was a real quote from the show. Maker help me.”

You bit down a laugh, already knowing where this was going. He kept going. “She had a whole career. A life. And he—” his left hand gestured vaguely at the holo, not even looking up from his datapad, “—was walking around dressed as a goddamn Ronto Wrap.”

You grinned. “So you were invested.”

“I’m saying it was stupid.”

“Uh-huh.”

Wolffe finally looked up with an unimpressed stare. “You’re telling me you didn’t think it was ridiculous?”

“Oh, no, it was completely ridiculous,” you admitted. “But it’s a pre-Clone Wars holoseries, Commander, ridiculous is the point.”

He pinched the bridge of his nose. “They made me care about a man in a sandwich costume.”

“They really did.”

“They never even showed his face,” he muttered, almost to himself.

Because here’s the thing - he could complain all he wanted, but you knew the truth. Not only did he know all the characters, he had opinions. Strong ones. And, most damning of all - he had a favourite.

Sahm’ara Joans. The self-made entrepreneur, the no-nonsense, I’ll burn this city down before I let a man waste my time woman. Wolffe swore up and down that she was the only tolerable character, but you knew better. He liked her. No, he respected her. Every time she delivered a one-liner or completely dismantled some poor bastard in the dating scene, you’d catch the slightest smirk on his face, like he was privately rooting for her.

On the other hand, there was Kaari Breesaw, who Wolffe detested. “She has the emotional intelligence of a gundark,” he grumbled once, after Kaari had, for the fifth time, thrown herself back into the orbit of ‘Big O’, a wealthy shipping tycoon with all the charm of a typical finance bro in the Financial District. “She knows he’s an asshole. She knows he’s gonna screw her over. And she still—” He’d jab his finger at the holoseries as if that would explain something.

“She’s in love,” you teased.

“She’s stupid.”

The best part? This was a recurring argument. Every time Sex and the Ecumenopolis cycled back to Kaari making yet another terrible decision, Wolffe’s patience wore thinner and thinner, until one day, he’d just flat-out refused to acknowledge her storyline at all.

“She’s dead to me,” he’d declared. “Tell me when they’re back to Sahm’ara.”

And now, predictably, after the sandwich episode ended - he peeked over the edge of his datapad again. “Where’s Sahm’ara? Why does Kaari dominate this episode?” You barely looked away from the holo. “You know she’s literally the one narrating the story, right?”

“Mm. Don’t care.” His voice was flat, unimpressed. “They should give Sahm’ara the narration. At least she has a point.” You chuckled but didn’t argue. He had a habit of deciding exactly how a show should be structured and then getting personally offended when it didn’t conform to his vision.

You felt the shift in the mattress before you felt him - the warmth of his breath ghosting over your skin as he leaned in, pressing his face against the curve of your neck. His datapad landed on the bedside table with a quiet thud, forgotten in favour of something else entirely. “How was your day?” he dropped his voice to a raspy murmur. His arm slung lazily around your waist, fingers tracing absent patterns over your hip like muscle memory.

“Good.” You tilted your head slightly to give him better access as his lips brushed along your neck. “My team and I managed to slice into that CIS propaganda holonet site - took most of the data down.”

Wolffe hummed against your skin, half-listening, half-distracted as he worked his way lower, his hand slipping under the hem of your shirt, and grazed up to cup your breast. “We rerouted their entire login system,” you continued, running your fingers through his cropped hair. It was still slightly damp from his shower, warm against your palm. “Every time they try to access their own files, it just redirects them to a looping video of a Toydarian singing Never Gonna Give You Down in Huttese.”

That actually got a huff of amusement from him. “Efficient.”

“Oh, and we stole some of their encrypted comms, rerouted a few of their shadow accounts into charity funds, the usual.” It was a routine for you, as if you were just recounting errands, rather than digital sabotage against the Separatists. “Big win for the cause.”

“Big win,” he murmured against your collarbone, nipping lightly before pressing a softer kiss in the same spot. His voice was growing raspier. You giggled, squirming as his two-days-old stubble scraped against your skin. “You’re not even listening, are you?”

“I am.” He kissed the underside of your jaw, exhaling warm against your skin. “Toydarian. Huttese. You’re very disruptive.”

“Oh, I’m disruptive?”

His lips curled against your throat before he shifted on top of you, his weight pressing more firmly against you, his hand sliding lower. “Mhm.”

“What about you?” You pressed a lingering kiss to the top of his head. “Anything else aside from the shiny training?”

Wolffe exhaled, his breath sent a heat straight to your core, he was clearly reluctant to re-engage with the topic now that he had his mouth on your skin. His hand moved down to the band of your trousers, slipping it halfway there before he finally muttered, “Briefing. Patrols. More briefings. Argued with a senator’s aide about the next relief mission logistics - again.”

You hummed, still dragging your nails lightly over the back of his scalp. “Win?”

“Does anyone ever win against bureaucracy?”

“Fair point.”

He sighed, resting his forehead against your shoulder for a moment. “Came this close to telling them to shove their ‘budget constraints’ straight up their senatorial asses.”

You snorted. “And yet, you restrained yourself. Personal growth.”

“Barely,” he muttered. His hand finally snaked down under your trousers in a slow and lazy rhythm, like his body was already more interested in other things. “Kinda wish Fox and I were still in the same unit. I would’ve let him handle it. He actually likes dealing with politicians.”

You sighed, his hand moving down your leg making your breath hitch. "Don't I know it," you said, voice raspy. "But someone's gotta help keep those senators in check. Maybe one day, you'll find a way to enjoy it." You ran your fingers through his hair again, closing your eyes. He hummed in response, nuzzling deeper into your neck. "Maybe. For now, though..." He trailed off, his fingers finally found their way into your clit, circling gently. You arched into the touch without thinking about it, moaning softly as he dipped one finger straight into your sensitive spot and began to tease it. Your head fell back on the pillow as a wave of pleasure coursed through you, overwhelming any lingering thoughts of work or stress. The sounds of the holoseries and the city outside faded away, replaced by the sounds of your breath and the soft rustling of sheets against skin.

"Maker, Wolffe," you panted, hooking an arm around his neck to pull him closer. "You're so good at this." His only response was a low grunt against your skin that sent a shiver down your spine. “You wanna fuck?” He looked up.

You blinked at him. “Duh. Why are you stopping?”

Wolffe rolled his eyes as he reached down to undo the tie on your trousers. “Because this thing is kriffing tight - almost cut off the circulation in my hand.” He gave you an unimpressed glare, fingers tugging at the waistband in irritation.

You giggled, still breathless. “Sorry, didn’t realise my loungewear was a hazard.”

“It is. I’m filing a report.”

You let out a huff of laughter, lifting your hips to help him along. This was just how it was with him. After so long together, this - the teasing, the grumbling, the way he always found something to complain about even whilst he was actively seducing you - felt as much a part of the moment as anything else. Sex with Wolffe wasn’t always some kinky planet-shattering affair. Sometimes, it was just another way to be close. A quiet affection between two people who had already seen each other at their worst and still wanted to crawl into bed together at the end of the day.

"There you go," he muttered, tugging your trousers down and tossing them to the floor without a second thought. You squinted at him. "Boo, you missed the laundry bin."

Wolffe didn’t even look at where they’d landed, just gave you a noncommittal shrug. “Not my problem.”

"Oh, it will be," you warned playfully, wrapping your legs around his waist to pull him closer. "I'll make you pick them up later."

Wolffe raised an eyebrow, his hands sliding up your thighs. "Is that a threat or a promise?"

"Both," you breathed, arching into his touch. "Now, are you going to keep complaining about my clothes or are you going to do something about the fact that I'm not wearing any?"

A wolfish grin spread across his face. "I think I can fix the laundry later."

He leaned down, capturing your lips in a searing kiss that made you forget all about the discarded joggers before taking his own trousers off. His hands roamed your body, leaving trails of heat in their wake. You gasped into his mouth as he grind against you.

"Wolffe," you whined, breaking the kiss. "Please..."

"Impatient, aren't we?"

You huffed, about to retort, when he suddenly moved to align himself with your entrance. The words died in your throat as he slowly pushed in, stretching you in the most exquisite way.

"Maker," you breathed, clutching at his shoulders. Wolffe grunted in agreement, his forehead resting against yours as he bottomed out. For a moment, you both stayed still, savouring the connection. Then, Wolffe began to move. His thrusts were slow at first, drawing out soft gasps and moans from you both. You clung to him, one hand tangled in his hair while the other traced the scars on his back - a map of his history that you'd long since memorised.

"Faster," you urged, nipping at his earlobe. "Please, Wolffe."

He obliged, picking up the pace. The room filled with the sound of skin against skin and breathless moans. You pushed your hip back, meeting him thrust for thrust, chasing that building pleasure. "That's it," Wolffe’s voice was rough with desire. "Just like that, cyar'ika."

The Mando'a endearment sent a thrill through you, as it always did. You loved when he slipped into his native tongue during intimate moments. "Kriff, you feel good," Wolffe growled, his cybernetic eye reflecting the city lights from outside of your window as he gazed down at you.

"Anyway, what's going on with your neighbour?" he asked, maintaining his relentless rhythm. "Mmh, which one?" you managed to respond, trying to focus despite the overwhelming sensations that made coherent thought nearly impossible. The way he moved inside you was intoxicating, but there was something thrilling about the contrasting normalcy of your relationship - how you could be lost in each other yet still discuss the mundane details of life.

"The new one," he panted, letting your fingers dig into his shoulders. "The one who moved in last week."

"Oh, that guy." You whined as he pulled out. "Tall, dark, and handsome. Like you, but with a stupid amount of abs, cause, you know, Zabrak–oh, fuck! And a really nice ass." You gasped as he plunged back in, his hips meeting yours in rhythm again. "Shit, Wolffe," you moaned, your eyes rolling back in your head. “And he has the sexiest Dathomirian accent.”

Wolffe snorted, clearly amused. "He does, doesn’t he? Well, maybe we should invite him over for some drinks." You laughed despite yourself. "Yeah right. As if he could handle the two of us." Your body tensed and then exploded in a rush of pleasure around him. For a moment, there was silence between you both - just the sounds of your heavy breathing and his steady thrusts - before you spoke again. "I just came."

"As you should," Wolffe growled, his pace increasing as he chased his own release. "You're so fucking beautiful when you come."

You moaned, oversensitive but still loving every moment. Your hands roamed his back, feeling the muscles flex with each thrust. "Come on, Wolffe," you encouraged, nipping at his jaw. "Let go for me."

His rhythm faltered, becoming erratic as he neared the edge. You clenched around him, drawing a strangled groan from his throat. "Cyar'ika," he panted, burying his face in your neck. With a final, deep thrust, Wolffe stilled, groaning your name as he came. You held him close, enjoying the warmth he spilled inside you whilst rubbing your hand on his back as he shuddered through his release.

“Did you buy the jogan fruit?” You suddenly asked, still out of breath, and completely blissed out.

Wolffe let out a muffled groan against your neck. "Really? That's what you're thinking about right now?" You chuckled, still caressing his back. "Well, you did promise to make that jogan fruit tart I like. That recipe you learnt from Gregor?"

He lifted his head to look at you, his face was a cocktail of exasperation and fondness. "I'm still inside you, and you're worried about dessert?"

"I work up an appetite after good sex," you teased, pressing a quick kiss to his nose. Wolffe rolled his eyes but couldn't hide his smirk. "Fine. Yes, I bought your precious jogan fruit. It's in the kitchen."

You grinned, pecking him on the lips. "Good boy."

He slowly pulled out, both of you hissing at the sensation, before collapsing beside you on the bed. You turned to face him, tracing lazy patterns on his chest. "So, about that tart..." you began.

Wolffe groaned, throwing an arm over his face. "Maker, you're insatiable. And I don't mean just for sex."

You laughed, snuggling closer to him. "You love it."

"Force help me, I do," he pulled you snugly against his side. You nestled your head on his chest, where the rhythm of his heartbeat gradually slowed to normal, giving a comforting lullaby. "We should shower," you murmured softly after a moment, though you remained comfortably wrapped in his embrace, making no attempt to move. Wolffe's voice was a gentle rumble as he responded, "I have showered."

“Again?” you teased, fluttering your eyelashes at him. His laughter was a warm vibration under your cheek as he reached up to playfully tousle your hair. "Since when did that work?"

"Since never," you admitted with a grin, pressing a kiss to his chest. "But it was worth a shot."

Wolffe hummed noncommittally, kissing the top of your head. "In a minute. I'm comfortable." You couldn't argue with that. The warmth of his body and his musky scent were lulling you into a peaceful state. You let out a contented sigh, snuggling closer.

"So," Wolffe broke the silence after a few moments, "Tell me more about this neighbour of yours. The one with the 'stupid amount of abs' and 'really nice ass'."

You playfully swat his chest. "Jealous, Commander?"

"Hardly," he scoffed, but his arm tightened around you. "Just curious about the competition.”

“He has a boyfriend,” you giggled. "Oh?" Wolffe's eyebrow shot up. "And how do you know that?"

You shrugged. "Saw them together in the turbolift. Very handsy. His boyfriend is a Twi'lek."

A raspy chuckle reverberating through his chest. "Well, cyar’ika, there goes your fantasy threesome."

"Who said anything about a threesome fantasy?" you propped yourself up on an elbow to look at him. "Maybe I was thinking about a foursome."

"Hmm, I'm not sure how I feel about sharing you."

“What about making me a jogan tart?”

"You're not going to let that go, are you?"

"Nope," you grinned, popping the 'p'. "I've been craving it all week."

He sighed in exasperation, but you could see the affection in his eyes. "Fine. Let me clean up and I'll start on it."

You beamed, pressing a quick kiss to his lips before rolling off him. "You're the best."

"I know," he said, but before you could get too far, he grabbed your wrist and pulled you right back in, kissing you slow, indulgent, giving you all the time he had in the galaxy.

Then, with that military efficiency, he got off the bed and headed straight for the kitchen, already on his next mission. You flopped onto your back, grinning at the ceiling, the warmth of the moment still cocooning you. The episode of Sex and the Ecumenopolis that had been playing in the background was long over, replaced by the holoseries app’s main menu, idly looping trailers for other shows you had no intention of watching. You grabbed the remote and switched off the holovision. No need to waste credits on unnecessary power - especially not when Wolffe was already rolling his eyes at the last utility bill.

Jogan tart secured. Mission accomplished.

[waiting-for-motivation]

jealousy, jealousy

summary: A night out with the wolfpack at 79s takes a turn as the bad batch enters the bar, and a certain sniper flirts with Wolffes medic.

pairings: Commander Wolffe x Reader, Sinker, Boost, Crosshair

warnings: alcohol, unspoken feelings, fluff, cross smokes

words: 1351

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

His arm rests on the back of her chair, his fingers play with a strand of her hair. In this crowded bar, they share a few moments alone. Wolffe just enjoys (Y/n) calming presence, while they both keep an eye on his brothers on the dance floor. There is no need for much talking. The night is perfect.

“How is your forearm?“, (Y/n) asks over the loud music and takes a sip from her colourful cocktail. She throws a glance at the Commander next to her. With a grin on his lips, Wolffe rolls up the sleeve of his leatherjacket to reveal a bandage. It‘s clean white.

“Thanks to your skillful hands it doesn‘t hurt at all“, Wolffe answers with a wink and lets his sleeve cover the bandage once again. Two days ago, he stepped inside the med bay with blood dripping from his arm. (Y/n) instantly ran to take care of him, her touch immediately soothing his pain. Now the worry leaves her eyes. “It will soon be only another battle scar to add to my collection.“

There is a sad smile on (Y/n)s lips as she turns her body towards Wolffe, reaching a hand for his face. Out of instinct, he leans backwards but knowing he can trust her, he let‘s her rest her hand on his cheek. Slowly, (Y/n) caresses the bottom of his facial scar.

“I‘m so sorry this had to happen to you, all of this“, she whispers, barely understandable over the loud music. A shiver runs over her whole body as she notices Wolffes delicate touch on her lower back, pulling her closer.

“I‘m not, otherwise I would have never met you“, Wolffe returns with a soft gaze and leans forward carefully. He closes his eyes as they are so close they can feel the other’s breath. For a millisecond their lips meet, but then a loud scream interrupts their intense moment.

“What the kriff are they doing?“, (Y/n) asks confused as she has now turned all the way around to take a better look at the crowd. In the middle are two clones, most likely Boost and Sinker, singing loudly. One is sitting on the others shoulders and waves his shirt in the air.

For a few seconds Wolffe remains the way (Y/n) left him, with closed eyes and an halfway opened mouth. Then he gives his brothers a death glare. “I‘ll get them and you better organise a few glasses of water, love.“

Wolffe will have the boys on cleaning duty for the rest of their lives for destroying this sweet moment between him and his medic. He waited too long for this kiss to happen to have his brothers interrupt it. Clenching his fists, Wolffe pushes through the crowd towards Sinker and Boost, grabbing them by their necks and throwing them on two chairs.

“You two will drink some water and then go back to our barracks, end of discussion“, Wolffe growls at his brothers who watch him with wide eyes. Then, without reason, Sinker and Boost start laughing like maniacs. They can‘t take anyone serious, until (Y/n) returns with two glasses of water.

“As your medic and friend I want you guys to drink this water, please“, (Y/n) says as she places the glasses in front of Sinker and Boost. She bats her eyes sweetly at the two and watches them gulp down their water in one go. Stepping behind them, she places her hands on their heads to get their attention once again. “And apologise to your Commander. I‘ll get some fresh air.“

Wolffe watches (Y/n) disappear in the crowd, then looks back at his brothers who are already planing something foolish once again. While Sinker is trying to balance the two empty glasses on his forehead, Boost stands up to return to the dance floor. Wolffe forces him back on the chair and takes the glasses from Sinker.

“I‘m done with you di’kuts. You are on cleaning duty for the rest of the year and you will take all the night shifts“, Wolffe lets his anger free and takes a seat in front of his brothers. They are silent now, knowing they have done something severely wrong. Although they might be drunk, they can put one and one together. Something did, or more likely didn‘t happen between their Commander and medic.

“I think we cockblocked our Commander“, Sinker realizes and laughs erratically with his brother. Wolffe can only sigh and hide his face in his hands, no longer wanting to be a witness to their stupid conversations. He would rather have different company, so his mind wanders once again to (Y/n), wondering what takes her so long.

Finally stepping outside, (Y/n) takes a deep breath and leans against the next wall, closing her eyes. Although she really enjoys every free second with her battalion, 79s can be a bit too much once in a while. Her peaceful moment gets interrupted by smoke filling her lungs and making her cough. She throws a death glare towards the man, but he doesn‘t seem to mind.

“You know that will kill you“, (Y/n) mumbles, not really expecting the soldier to actually answer her. He is taller than most clones, but his facial features give away his true heritage.

“I don‘t think I will grow old enough to experience that, doll“, the clone smirks with the cigarette inbetween his lips. He walks towards (Y/n), crowding her against the wall. After taking one last long drag, Crosshair crushes the cigarette under his boot.

Lowering her gaze in shame and remembering the clones accelerated ageing, (Y/n) almost awakens some pity in Crosshair. He places a finger under her chin and forces ehr to look him in the eyes. “Don‘t worry, this is nothing new to all of us, but this also means that we can appreciate moments like this more.“

(Y/n) widens her eyes and presses her lips together, surprised by how forward this clone is. A quick look towards his shoulder, reveals a small skull on a red plate. This clone must be part of the famous clone force 99, their sniper at the looks of it.

Before Crosshair can make another move on the girl, another clone exits the bar with a stern expression which quickly forms into a frown. “Hands off, Crosshair!“ Rather slowly, Crosshair removes his hand from (Y/n)s face and turns his attention towards a jealous Wolffe.

“Commander, didn‘t take you for the party type“, Crosshair comments as he places a toothpick between his lips. His gaze moves from the medic next to him to the furious Wolffe clenching his fists. He realizes there is something unspoken between them and his instinct tells him to leave them alone, so he winks one last time at (Y/n) and then enter 79s to join his brothers.

“Cocky di‘kut“, Wolffe mumbles and leans against the wall close to (Y/n). She only throws a disapprovingly look at him, then watches the city in front of them. Why would Wolffe act like that? She was only talking to Crosshair. Maybe the sniper was closer to her than needed, but that didn‘t bother her.

Their shoulder touch, so she can feel Wolffe taking a deep breath to gather his courage. Wolffe steps in front of (Y/n), standing exactly where Crosshair stood a few moments ago. One arm still supports him, his hand resting right next to (Y/n)s face. As Wolffe opens his mouth to confess, he can almost see the realisation in (Y/n)s eyes. She finally understands why he got so angry about Crosshair. Wolffe was jealous.

Without wasting another second, (Y/n) jumps forward into Wolffes embrace and finally presses her lips to his. Both her hands find their place on his cheeks, while he wraps his arms around her, pulling her impossibly closer. They have their kiss at last, and not even Sinker and or Boost could interrupt this perfect moment. They won‘t part that easily now.

taglist: @gwenebear @skippyhopperwisdom @littlemisscare-all

[rexxdjarin]

ruminating about a fuckboy!wolffe like post-abregado mission fic

like we’re talking about a man who just lost every man in his command save for himself and 2 others.

we’re talking about a man who the rest of the republic army were set to abandon and leave to die if not for ahsoka and anakin disobeying orders to save him

we’re talking about a man who swears loyalty to his brothers above all others and to the republic they serve but is viscerally angry that that care and loyalty wasn’t reciprocated when he needed it most

so he spends his days bitter and angry and needing release the best way he knows how

and over time he starts to realize that his anger, self-loathing and feeling not valued always eases after spending time with women

at first it’s just for sexual release. because it feels good and he needs something, anything to make him feel better for even just a few moments

but women always treat him with the tenderness, affection and care that the rest of the republic does not give him. for a few hours, in their arms, he’s a man they care for, he’s an individual being who deserves to be cared for.

it doesn’t necessarily change his politics or his bitterness at how futile this whole war always seems to be - but women show him that he’s a person with a future worth valuing and fighting for. and that gives him something to hold on to.

[cloneloverxoxoxox]

Something I’ve never had

Commander Wolffe x fem!reader

unsure of the word count ( this is my first ever mini story , not proof read so I apologise now )

This is literally my own fic so somethings tie in with The Clone Wars some don’t

Warnings : nothing too major just some awkwardness & abit of flirting ☁️

If you want a follow up let me know 🥰

Day 1 : You meet through work & instantly you are attracted to him but does he feel the same?

You spend ages in front the mirror in your fresher room your bright blue eyes shining back at you as you carry on with your morning routine , ensuring your makeup is just right but not too much, slicking your long black wavy hair into a ponytail , faffing with your shirt & taking the last sip of your morning caff, as you leave the room and head to the kitchen to place your empty mug on the side you take a deep breathe and begin to leave your apartment to catch a speeder to the GAR base where you start the first day of the rest of your life. Usually you work within the senate fighting for the rights of clones as does your farther , he is rather friendly with Padme who you’ve been introduced to a few times , attended dinners & conferences with her , you’ve also met Anakin Skywalker , Ashoka, the boys from the 501st and Master Obi wan Kenobi and his troops, so really this so getting the job of accompanying certain Jedi Cruisers to see how they are being treated how the Admirals treat them etc is down to your father. But you don’t mind you kinda like the excitement plus seeing all those good looking clones. A short while passes and you are introduced to Master Plo Koon , he warmly greets you and welcomes you aboard , you both are chatting away discussing the war amongst other things as you walk by you get a few cat calls from the Shinys nothing you did not expect being the only female on this cruiser , as you step into the Bridge that’s when you first notice him… he seems to tower above the other clones with his distinct grey and white armour , so broad , so handsome you can feel yourself blushing a deep pink , your insides are tingling. Master Plo Koon walks you over to him

“ Commander Wolffe this is Crystal , you will address her as Senator , she will be joining us while we carry out the Relief Mission to Aleen, please introduce her to the Pack and make her feel welcome … which I trust you will “

You give him a very small smile whilst holding your hand out ready to shake his and all he does is look you up and down letting out a small grunt.

“We are needed in the main hanger , it’s time we start the landing procedures, if you’d like to follow me” says Commander Wolffe in a firm deep voice “er..erm ok yes of course please lead the way Commander” you stutter out softly; Wolffe leads the way as you try to hurry your pace to catch up with him, your small 5’5 legs are no where near as quick as him you both reach the elevator down to the main hanger Wolffe stepping in first you follow suit. An awkward silence fills the small compartment with just you and him until a further 3 floors down 6 troopers pile in with a quick greeting but you loose your footing and fall back into the tall handsome Commander , your curvy behind gently brushed across his codpiece and you feel his hands against your hips steadying you , an even bigger awkwardness fills the elevator then Wolffes hands after lingering for a few seconds let go.

OH MY MAKER did that really happen you think to yourself , he already thinks you shouldn’t be here on his cruiser now you’ve just pushed your ass into him…

Wolffe leads you over to one of the hun ships where you meet R2-D2, C3PO , Boost , Sinker & Comet all of them greet you warmly especially Boost who gives you a cheeky grin and a little wink you can’t help but smile. As you land into Aleen Commander Wolffe begins debriefing everyone , but you and Boost find yourselves having some slightly flirty banter much to Wolffes disapproval.

As the hours go on your back in the Gun Ship typing notes on your Holopad when you hear a deep clearing of the throat you look up to see Commander Wolffe staring right into your soul

“can I help you at all Commander?” 𝗠𝗔𝗞𝗘𝗥 He is so good looking urhh why am I even thinking this!

“Do you have everything you need?” His voice knocks off your own trail of thought “Yes I have everything , thank you Commander . I’ll be sure to come to you if I do need anything” it sounded sexier in your head than how it sounded aloud

“Well we should be leaving soon , that damn translator droid is still out here somewhere and we can’t leave until he is back, I’ve sent Sinker and Boost to try and locate him”

“Ohh if you lost C3P0 I know Padme would be most upset.. Sorry Senator Amidala” you say rather embarrassed , you see out the side of your eye Wolffe is giving you his famous eye rolls you’ve been told about from Boost

“Yes well my orders were to come here to provide support and aid which my men have done , once we leave this planet I will be off loading those too” he says dryly.

“ Right well, if you would excuse me Commander I have a few more things to attend too and a few troopers to speak too” and on that note you get up and leave

Wolffe watches as you walk away, the way your ass jiggles in those skin tight black pants you have on, the way your beautiful long black hair gently sways in the wind , he notices you turn back ever so slightly just for a second catching your glance holding it for longer than he cared to admit… those bright blue eyes those big full lips wow he can feel himself become flustered… that isn’t him so he carries on with his work to get you off his mind. Yet he can’t seem too. An hour so later C3P0 and R2-D2 have still not returned however Wolffe notices you and Boost have been laughing and chatting near some rocks , he could of sworn he saw Boost place his hand on your thigh , that riled him up storming over to you both “TROOPER Did I not ask you to find those damn driods ? Not sit here and try chatting up the Senator ! Find them and report back “ he almost growled out Boost stood to attention and a quick “Yes Sir!!” He walked away leaving you and Commander Wolffe alone again … which you didn’t mind

“Err err Commander Wolffe Boost erm was not speaking to me in any appropriate way he was just telling me about your missions you’ve all been on” “ I’m sorry if I was keeping him from his duties” you say looking up at him batting your long dark lashes lips slightly parted

“Senator but my men have work to do so if you can keep your questions to a minimal” he snarls then walks away

𝘄𝗼𝘄 𝗼𝗸 𝘄𝗲𝗹𝗹 𝗵𝗲 𝗰𝗹𝗲𝗮𝗿𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀𝗻𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝗵𝗲

that thought keeps running through your mind as you all leave the planet and head back to the Cruiser even as your walking down to your personal quarters, it’s not a good feeling you don’t like it

Dinner time soon comes around so you make your way to the mess hall only to be greeted by the smiling faces of Boost, Sinker and Comet “come and sit with us Senator we may as well get to know each other abit better eh “ Sinker let’s out with a gleem in his eye

“ ok ok thank you I will sit with you “ it comes out sounding so shy and sheepish but you do feel welcome , just as your tucking into your food Commander Wolffe enters holding a Holopad as he’s walking over to the table you can feel his eyes on you again but you can also feel that heat building up inside you “my office now Senator “ as he reaches the table said in a cold manner

“ok Commander” you stutter out … barely

𝘄𝗵𝘆 𝗱𝗼𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗺𝗮𝗻 𝗱𝗶𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝗺𝗲 𝘀𝗼???

On the way to Wolffes office there is a deadly silence apart from the odd com going off or the voices of troopers from the 104th , as you both enter his office Wolffe sits down you stand there nervous but trying so hard to keep your composure

“at ease” he says very monotone

“I just wanted to go over some of your notes from todays mission so we are both on the same page”

As you lean down closely next to him to go over the notes he can smell your sweet floral perfume lingering , he can hear your soft little breathes, the way you play with your hair and the delicatiness in your voice as your speaking..it’s driving him crazy

You are just about to turn to the last page of notes regarding todays mission on the Holopad when you and Wolffe both go to touch it at the same time your fingers ghost over his thick gloved digits and linger for just a few moments , he makes no attempt to move neither do you , the sexual tension in the air is almost unbearable until Wolfee harshly snatched his hand away

You let out a small cough “ Apologies Commander it won’t happen again Im just very tired, if that’s all you need me for then I will be retiring to my quarters for the night” the words spoken so quietly from you, your confused not sure what just happened but you know you need to leave

Commander Wolffe steps up from his desk “That is all Senator” said again so coldly as he watched you leave his office , watching the sway of your perfect curvy hips and perfect ass

𝗠𝗮𝗸𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗵𝗲 𝗶𝗻𝗳𝗿𝘂𝗶𝗮𝘁𝗲𝘀 𝗺𝗲 𝗯𝘂𝘁 𝘀𝗵𝗲𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗺𝗼𝘀𝘁 𝗯𝗲𝗮𝘂𝘁𝗶𝗳𝘂𝗹 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗶𝘃𝗲 𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝘀𝗲𝗲𝗻 ⠀

That’s all he can think about all night as he’s laid in his bed staring up at the grey walls , you the girl he met earlier today, the girl his brothers especially Boost had been flirting with , the girl he wants and feels like he needs to protect but wants to ravage at the same time

𝗡𝗢 ⠀ 𝘀𝘁𝗼𝗽 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀 𝗶𝘀 𝘄𝗿𝗼𝗻𝗴⠀ 𝗜 𝗰𝗮𝗻𝘁 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗸 𝗮𝗯𝗼𝘂𝘁 𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗶𝘀….

[toomanyteefs]

Well the memes I did for my fic Snapback went over so well that I made a bunch for Do-Over too! Enjoy!

And here's a bonus from Bite The Bullet for good measure.

[moxie-girl]

still workshopping some of these a bit, but here's the current mando'a name chart for the CCs (plus rex!)

green words are ones I took directly from the mando'a dictionary, yellow words are technically non-canon but are basically real words, orange are words I made up that could probably be real words, and red ones are the ones I just mashed words together and they don't always make the most sense

I'm taking constructive criticism on some of these names! If you have a better mando'a name for a character (esp. one w a red name) I'd be happy to hear it!

edit: other name lists can be found here: 501st 212th !!

[vodika-vibes]

wolffe and a medic reader sneaking around and get caught👀👀👀i beg

Red Handed

Summary: You love Wolffe, you really do. But he’s going to get you both in trouble. Again.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x F!Reader

Word Count: 720

Warnings: Uh, heavy making out. wolffe can't keep his hands to himself.

A/N: I'm not sure I like this, but I hope you do!

Click HERE to be added to my taglist

“Wolffe,” His name falls from your lips in a breathy whisper that has his groaning and pressing harder against you.

“Say it again,” He murmurs against your throat, his teeth scraping down your throat with just enough pressure that you, helplessly, cling to his armor.

A breathless laugh falls from you, even as you tilt your head back, allowing him better access to your throat, “We’re gonna get caught.”

“Not if you’re quiet,” He peppers hot kisses up your throat and to your jaw, before he catches your lips with his, “No one will come looking for us, cyar’ika.”

“They always do.” You remind him, before you bite your lip to muffle a whimper.

“Don’t you want to spend time with me, Princess?” Wolffe coos against your ear, “It’s been so long since I’ve had you to myself—”

“That’s because we’re deployed,” Almost without your permission, your fingers move to the seals of his armor, and you deftly start to pop them, loosening his armor enough that he can tug it off.

“And?”

“And you’re the—oh my god—” A sudden bite on your collar steals your whole train of thought. You didn’t even notice him loosening your scrub top so he could reach your collar.

You hear Wolffe chuckle against you, “You gonna pray to me, sweetheart?” He asks, as he looks up at you from where he’s lazily kissing down your chest, his lips lingering in the valley between your breasts.

You definitely should have known better than to wear the tie on scrubs.

“Absolutely not,” Your voice is breathy. Too breathy.

“I’d believe you if you didn’t sound like that.” He lazily nips at the soft skin not covered by your bra, “But, I’m an amazing partner, so please. Continue what you were saying, angel.”

“You’re a dick.”

“Yes, yes. And yet you love me anyway.” He grins against your skin again, “Go on, angel. What were you saying?”

“I was saying,” You struggle to regain your train of thought, “I’m a medic and I’m busy. And you’re the commander—”

“Uh-huh,” He sucks another mark just over your bra. Frankly, your surprised he hasn’t removed it yet. “And?”

“And people are going to be looking for you, Commander.”

His mismatched eyes flare with a familiar emotion, and you mentally curse yourself for calling him by his rank. After all, you know exactly what that does to him.

“Wait, Wolffe—”

“Oh no,” He kisses back up your chest so he’s able to catch your lips in a deep kiss, “I’m Commander now, remember?”

“It slipped,” You say against his lips.

“I love it when you slip.”

“That’s because you’re a pervert.”

“Not a pervert, just a healthy man with a gorgeous girlfriend, who deserves my undivided attention.”

Your fingers curl into the material of his blacks, and you press closer to him, “Undivided, huh?”

“Yeah,” Wolffe murmurs, “Undivided—”

Vaguely, you’re aware of the sound of a door opening behind Wolffe, but you pay it no mind...until you hear a strangled yelp. “Really, Commander?” Comet asks, his voice strangled, “Again?”

You peek around Wolffe’s shoulder, and muffle a giggle. Comet’s gaze is locked on the ceiling, and there’s color rising on his face.

Wolffe sighs, “I’m beginning to think you’re doing this on purpose, Comet.”

“No way! I have better things to do than watch you get freaky with the Doc!” Comet counters, his gaze falling from the ceiling, and then snapping back up when he sees you, “Doc, please put your shirt back on.”

“Oh,” Your face burns as you hurriedly tie your shirt back on, “Sorry, Comet.”

You glance up at Wolffe, who is glaring at his brother, and you roll your eyes and elbow him, pulling a grunt from him. Wolffe glances at you, and then grits his teeth, “It’s...fine. No harm done.”

“Yeah, I’d believe that if you didn’t sound like you’re about to kill me,” Comet drops his gaze again, his gaze firmly staying off of you, “Anyway, the General is looking for you.”

At that, Wolffe sighs and slumps slightly, “Duty calls, I suppose.” He turns and drops a kiss to your forehead, “We’ll continue this later.”

“It’s a date.”

Wolffe drops one more kiss to your forehead, then he pulls his armor back on, and he’s gone.

@heidnspeak

@justiceandwar98

@etod

@kiss-anon

@lonewolflupe

@silly-starfish

@msmeredithrose

@cdblake1565

@badbatch-bitch

@continous-mistakes

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@tiredbi-peach

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@cc--2224

@0revna0

@mira-loves-star-wars

@trixie2023

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@sweater-sloot

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@arctech-fox

[threebea]

I'm sure someone has made this joke before but:

Fox: welcome to my brother my brother my brother my brother my brother my brother and me an advice show for the modern clone. I'm your oldest brother CC-1010, Fox.

Wolffe: What up Wolffe-Verse!? It's the leader of the pack ow ow awooo! CC-3636, Woooooolffe!

Cody: Hi Wolffe-Verse, it's me, your highest ranking clone brother, and Marshal Commander of 7th Sky Corps, CC-2224, Cody.

Fox: ..........you know we did discuss how we were going to do the intro. I made notes. Cody you're the second oldest you should be second. Wolffe... I don't even know where to start.

Wolffe: I told my Jedi about the holo-cast and he asked me if I'm an influencer. I decided to go with it. Hi General.

Cody: Hi General Koon. Wait so you've just decided you're an influencer?

Fox: What are you influencing? This was supposed to be a general advice show about armour maintenance and regulations soldiers are unclear about!

Wolffe: I'm making waves.

Fox: what waves? No one is even going to listen to this!

Cody: 7th Sky is. Because it's an order. Influence away Wolffe.

Wolffe: Cody gets it.

Fox: I don't think he does!

Cody: How about our first question, Fox?

Fox: Fine. Hello Brothers, long time listener first time writer-- this is our first episode.

Wolffe: it's the influence.

Fox: (gritting teeth) I'm a commander and I've gotten close with my Jedi. Really close. Like. Really really close. The Regs say you can't fraternize with civis, but is it cool to fraternize with your Jedi--what the--Bly is this you!?

Cody: Absolutely fine, next question.

Fox: No it isn't! It's a significant power imbalance!

Cody: Listen to Mr. doesn't have his own Jedi over here--

Fox: (voice drops) oh no. I have one now. And if you're listening Vos, I will find you. Mark my words. You can't hide forever.

Wolffe: wait, does that guy want to sleep with his Jedi? They're like our dads.

Cody: not everyone has the same relationship you have to your Jedi, Wolffe... And some of us are into dads.

Fox: I quit the show!

[oceansssblue]

SW REQUESTS:

"Would love to see a Wolffe x reader fic where the AFAB reader is injured in battle, Comms him and then their Comms get jammed and he's just freaking the hell out. Love some angst of him carrying her back to a ship and losing his mind over it"

Some minor alterations but I'm SO HAPPY with how this one came out! I love wolffe and there aren't that many fics about him. Do recommend your favourites! Xx, sky.

"RADIO SILENT" –WOLFFE/F READER

WARNINGS: BATTLE, WOUNDS&BLOOD, ANGST AND FLUFF. 📩💔💖

Halsakaa is a nightmare. The Republic hasn't been able to redirect more forces to the Outer Rim planet to help you; and your troops are struggling to keep the droids battalions at bay. It honestly feels as though the Republic –and the Jedi– have abandoned you to your wrath; no-one coming to this remote location in the galaxy to save you. The destine of your own life, and the lifes of your soldiers, are solely in your hands. And you'd give everything for them, even sacrifice yourself if you have to. After so many experiences together, for almost three years straight now, they have becomed such an important part of you it feels as if you have ingrained every single one of them in your soul. You know you should'nt be so attached to them; Master Ploo quietly reminds you from time to time –though you know he's not exactly indifferent either–. The wolfpack is his own just as they are yours. Yours. Growing up as Jedi you haven't had this kind of... ownership over anything but your saber. Obviously, you don't see the clones as something you can posses, use; but they do belong to you in some sense, and in that way, it's your responsability to command them, to take care of them. And you... love them. It's a dangerous word for a Jedi. But it's the truth. It is the reason why, right now, your soul aches. Each death is a strike right to your heart. But how can you see them any different, when they are such loyal friends? Such fierce soldiers, who fight and die selflessly for the freedom of other citizens in the galaxy, a freedom that hadn't been given to themselves?

Your dark emerald green lightsaber flies in your hands, deflecting one bolt after the other one. Sweat makes your usually comfortable jedi robes stick to your body; minor scratches and wounds tingling painfully at the friction of the fabric. It doesn't make you move any slower, though; you feel unstopable jumping from a cluster of droids to another, the hum of your saber following you around while you slash through your enemies with persistent focus and skill. General Ploo is doing his own thing on the other side of the battlefield; your clone troops split in half to defend both sides of Halsakaa's capital.

You don't know how much longer you can hold this off. All of you have been trained for this, and you're used to drawing strength from the Force, increasing your usual endurance; but even you are feeling exhausted, muscles straining like painful cords, and the thing about the droids is that they never tire out. You know this has to end eventually. Right now, Master Ploo's orders are to hold on til some other battalion can come to your rescue –the other option abandoning Halsakaa to the separatists, which would cause a disastrous impact on the Republic–; though you don't know when that will be. It may be days, or weeks. A month, maybe two. Even with the system of rest-and-takeover you've got established with the clones you're afraid you're going to lose.

The night falls, and some troopers fall back into the delicate safety of the makeshift camp, a decent distant away from the battlefield; they'll try to shut the eye for some hours before replacing other brothers positions again. You keep fighting, completely exhausted but knowing perfectly well that your presence in the battlefield equals the force of ten clones; pushing through your energy limits and fiercely holding your own.

Hours pass, and the two suns of Halsaaka rises again; your tired eyes getting used to the new light while you keep slashing droids with your saber.

"We're pushing them further away from the South Door" Master Ploo's calm voice picks up through your coms. "I have been informed that the 442th have been dispatched in our way. They will join us in two sunrises".

You can't help but give a relieved sigh. The 104th have worked with the 442th more than once in the past. They are heavy infantry; and you wouldn't say no to some of that now. Any fresh soldier would be a welcomed addition. You can see the strain on your troopers; though none of them would dare say a word out loud.

"Copy that" you answer through your channel with your Master and the 104th's commander and sergeant. "I'll feel as happy as a kid with a popsicle when I see that green stripped armour along our light gray one".

You dodge a shot and use the Force to push a wave of droids to the side; your troopers quickly using the oportunity to blast them down.

Wolffe's deep husky voice pipes up in a tiny, well-humoured comment.

"Still a kid yourself, General" he teases you, voice still firm and contradictionally serious.

Your lips pull up on a tiny smirk.

"We can't all age in a blink of an eye, my dear Commander" you chirp back.

The coms pick up his raspy chuckle before the frequency goes back to silence.

The droids make way for something bigger and you groan under your breath. The first bolts make the earth beneath your feet shake slightly; orders and screams shouted all around you.

"Bad news, boys" you open the general coms this time so everyone gets updated in this very unwelcomed surprise. "We've got some spiders".

You focus yourself on them; flying through the battlefield and jumping on one droid after the other one, sinking your saber into their red sensors or cutting off their laser canions. Then, when you're in the middle of jumping off of one, a surprisingly well aimed bolt crosses the air and hits you; and you fall down with blood quickly soaking your side, staining the fabric of your Jedi clothes.

"Fuck" you mutter out loud, jaw clenching til your teeth hurt while you stand up quickly and deflect another bold with your saber, trying to cope with the pain. You open your private frequency with Sinker and quickly inform of your state.

"Sinker, I've been hit" you grit between your teeth while you kill the droid responsible for your wound and step back between your troopers to cover yourself momentarily.

You pull your clothes up and quickly glance down at the wound. Usually the bolts inmediately cauterizes the wounds; but this hadn't been a normal droid, but a combat-J1, with it's weapon specifically designed to make the most damage to human's skin without it's predecessors side-efects. The apparently less dangerous bolts are quite the opposite; dividing into smalller ones that diverts into different directions when hitting a surface with enough resistance. Right now, there's only one entrance wound on your right side; but you know they may have carved more than one path inside of you, making it a life or death situation depending on how lucky you are.

"How bad is it?" He asks, slowly but effectively advancing through the droid lines towards you, an easy person to locate with the shine of your emerald saber.

You grunt in pain, hand soaked in dark scarlet blood, and take a deep breath in, knowing what you need to do for now.

"Bad" you just answer, carefully lowering your own saber towards the wound "It's a shot from a J1. I'm going to cauterise the wound for now, but I might go into shock in the next hour. Just a heads up."

You chuckle weakly, and then carefully graze your lightsaber against the wound. The skin quickly hardens and clots; the smell of the burn quickly reaching your nose. Your knees buckle while you swallow your scream of pain; legs shaking weakly and tears springing to your eyes while you finish putting a momentarily solution to your wound. At least you won't die from blood loss for now.

"Maker, General" Sinker is suddenly there, taking a strong hold of your opposite hip to stabilize you. "That really doesn't look good. You should go back to camp, Sir".

You find solace in his strength for a minute before rightening yourself again and getting ready to move. You close your eyes and center yourself with the Force. You're hurt, but you're still in the middle of open fire; you need to swallow the pain and dizziness down and hold on.

You give Sinker a firm nod.

"I'm letting this side of the battlefield on your hands, then" you tell him, his own back inmediately straightening too under such responsability. "Just one more night and we'll have reinforcements with us tomorrow".

Sinker nods in understanding, appreciating your words of encouragement. He quickly orders Comet to help you get safely back to camp; while he inmediately takes the role of leader and commands your part of the 104th clone troops. You need to protect the North Door of Halsaaka while Master Ploo and Wolffe take care of the South.

One arm around Comet's shoulders and finding strength in the Force, you quickly start your dangerous way back to safety. Even though Comet's alert with his own blaster and you're still deflecting bolts with your saber, you're vulnerable now. You just hope you're both able to make it.

You open your coms to inform of the new situation.

"I've been hit with a J1" you warn Master Ploo and Wolffe. You don't like how weak your voice sounds. "Wolffe, I..."

There's a small explosion right beside you; and the force of it pushes both you and Comet to the ground. You whimper in pain, but quickly grab him and push the two of you back up, resume walking –more like stumbling forward–. You try the coms again, wanting to tell Wolffe you've left Sinker with command before retiring for the night; you grumble in irritation when you see your com device has detached from your forearm and has been left abandoned behind.

"Do you have your com?" You ask Comet.

His voice is barely audible under the protection of his helmet.

"My audio appears to be broken after that last fall, General."

You sigh, tired. There's nothing you can do about it now. Sinker will communicate with them sooner or later.

"Let's just make it back to safety then" you say, and Comet nods diligently.

You'll just focus on not collapsing to the ground before reaching camp.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Wolffe's heart stutters inside his chest when he hears your voice in the coms. You're always strong, always fierce; something he had admired from the very first time he had had the chance to work under your command. He had been cold towards you back then; not purposedly harsh against you, but not friendly either. You hadn't cared. When one of his men had pointed out to you it wasn't personal, but just Wolffe's reserved, unpolished personality, you had answered unbothered and completely understanding. He could still hear those words in his head; "I get it. I'm a stranger that holds the lifes of his brothers in her hands. None of you know me yet; trust is earned. I hope I will with time. I'd like us all to be comfortable with each othef. But if not, it doesn't matter. I'm not here to make friends. I'm here to fight. I'm here to protect people; and I'm here to direct my assigned troops as best as I can in order to achieve the best results with the minor number of casualties. If Commander Wolffe opens up to me I'd be honored. If not, I'm sure we could still be good comrades in this war". He still remembers the way you had tilted your chin upwards; staring defiantly at the clones in front of her, completely unaware of him standing not so far away at her back. "Now, I believe there's still some preparations needed for Jaal; and we're taking off in an hour". With that not-so-subtle signal that the conversation had ended, the troopers around you had quickly fell back to place; and Wolffe had silently followed Master Ploo Koo towards you. "Look at you, little warrior" the older Jedi had told you, a pleasant smile wrinkling the corner of his covered eyes. "Already displaying such good lidership traits". You had turned around in surprise; so many life presences around you, and experiencing a rush of your own emotions, you hadn't been aware of both of their presence. Your cheeks had flushed slightly; though that same defiant glint hadn't left your eyes. "Master" you had slightly bowed towards him. "You see me with good eyes" you had smiled softly at him, in a clearly opened affectionate way Wolffe wasn't used to seing in other Jedi. "Just having a chat with the troops". Master Ploo had chuckled quietly and pointed at him with a hand gesture; Wolffe quickly taking a step forwards towards them. "I have just had a quick meeting with the Council. Commander Wolffe will update you on my behalf, as I need to go have a word with the pilots" Master Ploo had glanced back at him pointedly. "If he'd be kind enough...". Wolffe had inmediately nodded, firmly. He had high respect towards that specifical Jedi; and he didn't usually hold others in such high regards. "Of course, sir" he had then turned towards you. "General, if you can follow me to the strategy room...". You had firmly hold his stare for a few seconds; and the quiet inquisitive gaze had felt as if the young Jedi Warrior had scanned his own very soul. Wolffe had had his first tingle of that uncomfortable but curious feeling back then; a feeling that had only increased with the following years. Nowadays, he...

Wolffe cleared his thoughts and focused on battle. Your voice had sound weak and tired, but you were perfectly capable of holding yourself, and this wasn't the first time you had been hurt before. He had actually patched you more than once in the past and... And then you mentioned a J1, and whispered his name, and there was a loud ringing sound through the coms that sounded too close to an explosion for his comfort and... And the sounds died, leaving nothing more than radio silence. And Wolffe, going against everything he had learnt and was trained for, pannicked.

"General?" His frantic, afraid voice was enough for Master Ploo to focus his attention on him, a graze at his Force life enough to make him understand his commander's feelings. "General. Come on. Com in, kid..."

There was only static.

Wolffe's heart pumped faster, adrenaline shooting through his veins. His hands trembled. A knot formed in his throat, slowly chocking his voice. He never broke down. He never broke down, but...

"Cyar'ika" he begged in a whisper. "Please, please answer and tell me you're okay".

He still got no answer back from you, and he felt his soul hurt.

Master Plo's hand suddenly renched him back into reality; a comforting wave of what could only be his Force washing over him. Wolffe turned his face towards him. The Jedi watched him in understanding.

"I can feel your turmoil. It is such it's difficult for me to focus on anything else. You are in no state to stay in the battlefield" he told him, cautiously gentle. "If my padawan has been gravely injured someone has probably helped her return to camp. You must go and make sure she's okay".

Even if Wolffe wanted nothing more than to start of a run and find her, he still hesitated in front of his General. He was a soldier. A commander. He couldn't leave his place just because he had stupidly, oh so fucking stupidly, fallen in love with her...

Master Plo squeezed his shoulders once. He knew him so well.

"Go" he insisted. "That's an order".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Wolffe quickly wrenched the flimsi excuse of a door of the tent open. He had gone to the makeshift infirmary first; his doctor quickly informing him of the state of his Jedi, and where he could find her resting at the moment. "A dangerous wound, but surprisingly stable" he had told him while he took care of the wound of a fellow brother. "She's a tough one, our General. It was a good idea to use her own lightsaber as a cauterizer. She wouldn't have probably made it all the way back here otherwise". That probability had made Wolffe tremble.

His own eyes quickly scanned the Jedi's state now. She was laying down on a rucksack, unusually clad in just a sport top and his Jedi pant's; outer robes discarded and clean bandages effectively wrapping around her lower torso, with just a small amout of blood transpairing on her side. Her lightsaber had been carefully placed at her side. Her hair was untied and a mess; some sticking to her dirtied face and some falling around freely behind her. Despite her evident exhaustion, Wolffe hand't ever been so happy to see her.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

"Commander?" You asked in a surprised voice, slowly and carefully propelling some of your weight in your elbows in order to see him better. "Shouldn't you be back on the battlefield?"

Your face quickly changes into a deep, worried frown as you scan him up and down quickly.

"Are you hurt too, Wolffe?"

His heart clenches again. He steps inside the tent, slowly falling down on his knees besides you, and closes the door.

"No" he simply answers, observing you quietly.

You're completely lost. He's looking at you in a different way. He... Feels different, in the Force. Usually he feels much more reserved, almost as if he had learnt how to shield his emotions from a Jedi; however this... This felt raw.

"I'm afraid I don't understand" you chuckle and then wince at the way the movement tugs at your wound, a bit nervously now. You pointedly look at him. "You wouldn't be here just because you got worried, right?"

Wolffe's expression doesn't change.

"You went radio silent" he answers, quietly.

You arch an eyebrow.

"Our coms died" you explain, still confused about his attitude.

Wolffe can't help himself. He reaches forward and carefully grasps your chin in his right hand; eyes boring into yours. You gasp in surprise and can't do anything else but stare at his breathetaking mismatched eyes in response; emotions inside of you swirling dangerously with his move.

"You were hurt" he enfasises, almost as if he's trying to tell you something else, something you're not quite understanding. "You were hurt, and you went radio silent".

Oh. Oh. He thought you might be... You might have...

"Oh, Wolffe" his name is an understanding, affectionate sigh on your tempting lips. "I'm okay".

He doesn't want empathy. Doesn't want that almost condescending type of comfort. He needs to make sure you're still here; with him. He needs to exteriorize all this raw, painful emotions he has been keeping hidden for so fucking long, and he wants you so fucking bad it makes his mind and soul burn...

He bends down over you, holding himself against one hand proped against the floor while the other one tugs your neck forward, and then he's kissing you –fiercely, dominantly, real–; he kisses the same way he fights and a surprised but delighted whimper of a moan can't help but escape from your lips, hands quickly clinging onto his shoulders desperately.

You... You hadn't thought you'd end up having this. With you being a Jedi and him being such a perfect, respected clone Commander, you had always brushed your wants aside and...

"Wolffe" you whisper, trembling inevitably when his plush warm mouth moves from your lips to the side of your neck, biting gently. "Wolffe, I...".

He breathes and looks up at your face again; cupping your cheek with his right hand and observing your reaction with his eyes shimmering in needs and desire.

His Force signature blasts. He loves you. He loves you, and you...

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum" you whisper, risking it all and giving your heart to him.

Tears blur your sight. They're not sad tears; they're not happy either. They're a mix of emotions that make you feel like a mess and...

Wolffe sighs. You love him. You love him, and the fact that you've told him in Mando'a...

He closes his eyes and gently presses his forehead against yours; finding solace and peace in your embrace, in this Keldabe. His eyes then flutter open, and he holds your face in both of his hands, slowly joining your lips in a kiss much more sweet and unhurried than those from before. You hum, surrendering in complete bliss.

He caresses your smuged cheek with his thumb, taking some of the dirt and exhaustion of the battlefield away.

His voice is a secret whisper as well.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, cyare".

Your fingers tug at the hair at the back of his neck, and you crash your lips onto his.

You imprint those five mandalorian words in your soul.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

This one was a blast to write! Felt the emotions so raw myself tooo bfbfbsfb this two are so cute. I hope I get to write more of Wolffe in the future, I really like the guy.

Did some minor alterations –like him not been the one to actually carry you back to safety– but it kinda wrote itself and I'm happy with how it came out. Hope you liked it as well!

Also, dear friends, if you ever want to request something longer than a one-shot, you're able to do so as well (if the plot goes accordingly or I find it expandable). I'm not writing whole stories, but a short one of maybe 2-5 chapters max would be okay.

Stay tunned for the next one yall. It will be a little angsty one with Echo, and then we'll have a flirty fun one with Crosshair.

Xx,

Sky.

Back to main masterlist here!

[sweetcream-coldfoam]

FIC RECS. (STAR WARS)

[updated 2/16/2025] posting this list now so it'll stop sitting idly in my drive. please read all warnings on individual fics. you are responsible for the content you consume!

✦ for NSFW/18+

THE BAD BATCH.

✧ touch starved by @nahoney22 [ tbb x reader ]

✧ two faces by @stellarbit [ tbb x f!reader ]

✧ flower sniping by @jedi-hawkins [ crosshair x f!reader ]

✦ sharp edges by @spicy-clones / @lightwise [ crosshair x f!reader ]

✧ don't call me flower by @dragonrider9905 [ tech x reader ]

✧ dork love by @starqueensthings [ tech x gn!reader ]

✧ tech & vel by @freesia-writes [ tech x oc ]

✦ just friends, right? by @nahoney22 [ tech x f!reader ]

✧ sweet thing by @starrylothcat [ wrecker x f!reader]

✦ stars beyond number by @dystopicjumpsuit [ gregor x oc ]

THE CLONE WARS.

✧ ad'ika by @toska-writes [ platonic fives x padawan!reader ]

✦ i yearn and so i fear by @enigmaticexplorer [ wolffe x oc ]

✦ soulmate series by @mandos-mind-trick [ various ]

✦ the popsicle by @rinwritesfics [ fives x reader ]

by @dystopicjumpsuit:

✦ martyrs and kings [ post-stasis kix x oc ]

✦ double, double, boil and trouble [ boil x reader ]

✦ the sixth language [ waxer x reader ]

by @wanderinginksplot-writes:

✧ warriors in red armor [ corrie guard x ocs ]

✧ now boarding [ 501st x f!readers ]

✧ kix + competence

✧ hardcase + “is that seriously your password?”

✧ rex + “is that how you flirt with everyone?”

OTHER CLONES.

✧ gar cabur by wanderinginksplot [ alpha-17 x f!reader ]

✧ the delta's jedi by @vodika-vibes [ fixer x jedi!reader ]

AUTHORS & TBR LIST.

[ masterlists to binge & fics i want to read when i get back into the fandom ]

@dystopicjumpsuit @wanderinginksplot-writes @freesia-writes / @spicy-clones @nahoney22 @starrylothcat @toska-writes @vodika-vibes

✧ hunter and the librarian by @clonethirstingisreal [ hunter x oc ]

✧ beyond the shadow of a doubt by @freesia-writes [ hunter x oc ]

thanks for stopping by! ❤︎ please let me know if anyone would like their fic removed from this list!

(this list has legit been sitting for months, and i figured it would have way more use posted here than it would somewhere forgotten on my laptop—even if it’s just for me!)

[hellfiresky]

WIP Poll Game

Thanks for the tag @orangez3st!

I’m currently doing three fics - well, okay, technically four since the zine requires writing too (why am I doing this to myself we’ll never know).

Game rule:

Make a 24hr poll with the titles of every WIP you plan to work on even if it’s only one or two. Once the poll closes, write one sentence for every vote received on the winning WIP.

If you see this post, please consider yourself tagged!!

[batchedzine]

🍪 PREORDERS ARE OPEN!!! 🍪

We are thrilled to announce that preorders for "Batched: A Clone Fan Zine" are OPEN!

https://batchedzine.bigcartel.com

Pre-orders will only run from October 1 thru October 31, so get your copy today!

There are not one, but TWO wonderful collections included in this project: The Batched Zine, which features some of your favorite canon clone characters The OC Showcase, which features art and fic of some original clone characters

🍪 BUNDLES:

We have 3 bundle options available to purchase (prices in USD): *SINGLE SERVING Bundle - $15.00 - Batched Zine PDF - OC Showcase Zine PDF - Recipes Printable - Printable Recipe Cards - Cookie Clones Phone Wallpaper *BAKER'S DOZEN Bundle - $25.00 - Physical copy of Batched Zine (88 pages, A5) - Batched Zine PDF - OC Showcase Zine PDF - Recipes Printable - Printable Recipe Cards *FULL BATCH Bundle - $35.00

This includes: - Physical copy of Batched Zine (88 pages, A5) - Batched Zine PDF - Batched Zine ePub - OC Showcase Zine PDF - OC Showcase Zine ePub - Printable Recipe Cards - Cookie Clones Phone Wallpaper - Three 3x3” Cookie Trooper Die Cut Stickers (Rex, Cody, and a Shiny) - Two 2x6” Prints (Bad Batch and the 501st) - One 2.5” Acrylic Charm (Hardcase)

IF UNLOCKED, THIS BUNDLE WILL ALSO RECEIVE THESE STRETCH GOAL ITEMS WITH THE ORDER: - One 3x3" Clone Trooper Soda Die Cut Sticker - One 2.5” Acrylic Charm (Delta Squad) - One 2.5” Enamel Pin (Trooper Vacation)

🍪

After preorders close on October 31, we will be sending out the preorders to be printed. We will keep you updated via socials throughout the production and shipping processes.

Don't forget, this is a charity fanzine, so proceeds after production costs will be donated to Action Against Hunger

*This project is not sponsored by, endorsed by, or affiliated with Action Against Hunger, Lucasfilm Ltd. LLC, or The Walt Disney Company. All Star Wars canon characters, locations, and references contained in this zine are the intellectual property of The Walt Disney Company.

[ghostymarni]

-am really proud of this wolffe sketch, @lonewolflupe convinced me to share it before I start linework for him + rex

[amityahasfanartnowapparently]

A scene from the most recent chapter of my fic, That Time Fox's Fat Tits Saved The Galaxy

[sadiecoocoo]

Thinking abt an au where Rex and the 501st adopts Boba instead of letting him go to jail… I feel like Rex has a lot of the mando genes urging him to adopt feral children

Fives would tease boba and say that he’s like a little angry tooka

Tup would be happy to not be the youngest anymore and would be really sweet to him

Hardcase and fives would both help him cause chaos

Echo would try to teach him some of the regs but end up letting him do whatever because he has cute little tooka eyes that works very well

Rex would treat him sort of how he treats the domino twins, but would probably be more openly affectionate and would make sure that he’s never on the field (he totally doesn’t steal boba from the barracks and lets him sleep in Rex’s quarters and holds him like a pillow… it’s okay Boba likes it, he missed having a dad)

boba would try to sneak out on campaigns, but the 501st all collectively agreed that clone or not Boba was their baby brother and he is not going to an actual battlefield

they also have a teensy bet on who boba actually listens to the most (it’s echo but Fives refuses to accept it)

Anakin, to Rex’s dismay, would teach him how to be a pilot

Ahsoka would help with any chaos

The 212th would try to get him transferred to them because they want a baby brother too but Cody would just say “we already have a baby brother (Wooley) and they’d probably kill us if we took Boba”

Plo Koon would start trying to get the Wolfpack placed in more campaigns with the 501st and Wolffe also starts helping with a bit of chaos (both Wolffe and Boba are biters and you can’t convince me otherwise)

A lot of them would ask what Jango was like and Rex would storm up and cuff them on the back of the head because “wtf this kid is still grieving give him a god damned minute”

And yes they put him in the center of the clone piles when Rex doesn’t steal him (Rex will join usually anyway)

But the bad thing abt this would be when one clone doesn’t come back… after the citadel Boba would’ve been devastated to hear about Echo. After Umbara he would’ve been crying himself to sleep from all the deaths. When Ahsoka left he would’ve clung to Rex or one of his brothers because what if they leave too?

Boba is a hurt child and needs his brothers to fully heal, but when he’s with his brothers he can still get hurt

[dragonsandwolvesohmy]

Could anyone recommend some fics with baby clones, aka Tubies??? Not an au where a character gives birth to a clone character, but with Obi-Wan or Cody or anyone interacting with the tubes and newborns on Kamino.

Just craving little bitty clones.