#commander wolffe fic

[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.

[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!!

[starryevermore]

all those chickens ✧ commander wolffe

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

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

pairing: commander wolffe x fem!reader

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

word count: 1,835

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Weird flex but okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence. 

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

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

“Uhh…”

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

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

“Yes or no, trooper?” Wolffe barked. 

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

“What the kark is that supposed to mean?”

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

“Well, find her!” Wolffe snapped. 

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

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

“Warthog lost Y/N,“ he growled.

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

“She’s not—just, watch my six, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But the baby—”

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

And he meant every word. 

[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 !!

[bamfahsoka]

Awwwww 🥰❤️😘

{A Small Army}

Program: With requests and paperwork assignments falling from two generals, you feel overwhelmed by the lack of support to help finish the additional work. Too afraid to make another mistake, you throw yourself into your tasks unaware of the watchful eyes of those around you. If you won't ask for help yourself, then Wolffe will remind you of the people around who care and want to help. And he'll take the time to explain just how much you mean to him and how much he's willing to do for you, if you let him.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x GN! Reader

Side Pairing Ref: Fives x OC! Kiva

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Length: 4110w

Warnings: Some swears, Overwhelming/Anxious emotions (no outright panic attack, but reader does show beginning symptoms), Petnames (Riduur, Cya'rika, Partner, Love), Reader gets pick up and carried for a little bit before being placed back on their feet

Counselor Note: I had a conversation with @twistedstitcher27 about how communication isn't typically shown in literature, and got inspired to write my own :) If you're a clone wars fan (18+ only) definitely check out their work!

Camp Resolute Masterlist

“I expected more from you,” General Plo Koon sighs as you shrink before him.

The command center hums in silence as everyone tries not to look at the two of you. Their quick glances burn into your skin as you stand before the Triumphant’s general. The thick atmosphere suffocates you.

“I- I’m, sorry, general,” you begin in a hurry. “I can make up that surveillance report in just a few moments. I can get started,” you fumble with your words as General Koon raises his hand to stop you.

“That’s quite alright,” he says. “I’m sure you have more work to keep up with, so just head back to your console. I can prepare one before the meeting quickly”. General Koon pats your shoulder with a nod as he walks past you to leave for the council meeting.

Forcing a deep breath through into your lungs, you move to your systems console. Chatter slowly grows as your fellow officers try to return the command center to its usual flow. However, the pained smiles and sympathetic looks sit heavy with you. As you sink into your seat and slowly wish it could eject you into space, a light hearted chuckle comes from just behind your shoulder.

“I know I don’t need to tell you this, but I wouldn’t take it personally,” Kiva reminds you. He rests his hip against your console desk, and he looks at you with a genuine smile.

“Glad to ever be your source of amusement, Kiva,” you huff. His teasing helps relieve some of the aching tension that rooted in your shoulders. You tear your gaze away from his, and your small smile melts as you boot up the computer systems. “Real talk?” 

Kiva’s posture straightens as he looks at you in all seriousness. In a low voice he responds, “Real talk”.

“I keep mixing up the generals’ requests, and I feel like I’m losing my mind with everything stacking on top of each other,” you admit. Your fingertips dance across the keypad as your eyes flicker between Kiva and the holoscreen. “I was up all night working on the survivor assessment for General Kenobi, and I guess-,” your voice trails off as a corporal walks past you to the command console.

“You got lost with the pile of work handed off to you, and the surveillance report slipped from your mind,” Kiva concludes.

Those words hold nothing but the truth, yet they punch you in the chest. Only able to nod your head, you pull up your schedule and task list to cross reference the day’s priorities. 

“I just don’t understand why General Kenobi hasn’t been assigned a new civilian officer yet,” Kiva ponders. He grabs the empty chair from the next console over to join you at your station. “Have you mentioned this to Wolffe at all,” he gently asks as he leans on the chair arm. His words become even quieter as he refers to the Commander.

You shoot him an annoyed look before continuing on with the report on Felucia’s ecosystem. “Why would I need to share this with the commander,” your cool voice rings clear with your opinion on the matter. “I’m more than capable of handling some paperwork”.

“Clearly,” Kiva laughs, “Since you keep getting piled up with shitloads everyday, because you’re still worried about proving your keep. Just give me some. I don’t have much going on today, and I know you’re overwhelmed with all of this”.

Before you can open your mouth to protest, Kiva rolls his chair to bump you out of his way. His hands fly across the keypad, and what seems like only a few parsecs laters, the comm signal beeps from his console.

Putting his elbow on your console, he rests his head against his palm as he turns to face you with a glint of mischief in his eyes. “Now, we can talk about why you don’t want to tell Wolffe what’s going on,” he pushes.

A sting of guilt prickles in your chest. “It’s not that I don’t want to tell him,” you softly admit. “I just don’t want to add to his worries. Felucia is not looking like an easy operation, and he’s been pulled into almost every mission even if it’s under the 212th or 501st’s lead. He has so much more pressing concerns going on, and I don’t want to add to it when we manage a moment alone”. You pull yourself back to your console system and bump Kiva out of the way as you pull up the task list once more. “What did you send over to yourself?”

Kiva sighs beside you, “Community rehabilitation. Just promise you won’t hide this from Wolffe?”

You hum, not giving a definitive answer. The holoscreen has your complete attention as your work on analyzing the ecosystem’s terrain. Determined to make up for your mistakes, you press on throughout the day. When your commanding officers ask for a check, you provide one with minimal delay. Once the council meeting has ended, you immediately put together a tentative schematic based on their decision, and you have it pulled up on the main holopad by the time the generals and commanders return to the deck. Throwing yourself into your work, you hardly notice the late hour from your chronometer or how most of the other officers have gone off to the mess hall for dinner.

“Hey, you coming?,” the corporal of the 104th calls over to you. Comet sends you an inviting smile, and you can only return a tired smile when you shake your head. “Come on,” he beckons you with a wave of his arm, “I don’t think I’ve seen you leave the deck all day. You need to take care of yourself, you know”.

“I’ll be there in a bit, corporal,” you compromise. Your words start to slur together, and you have to blink away the dryness across your eyes.

“How many times do I have to tell you, call me Comet,” he shoots a teasing smile that doesn’t last long. Comet’s concerned eyes take you in. Your body leans the console for support. Watery eyes cause you to flinch when you blink. Multiple water bottles and snack kits on the ground beside your station. “Just,” he hesitates, “don’t wait too long, alright? The food may be shitty, but it’s something. Join us when you finish up”.

Comet waits for your hum of acknowledgement, and only leaves after he watches you fall back into your databases.

“Come on, Comet,” Sinker says under his breath. He pulls Comet away from your hunched figure. “At this rate, the candle is burning at both ends. We’ll give Wolffe a heads up, but there’s not much more that we can do”.

“I’m this close,” Boost hisses and holds up his thumb and pointer finger barely touching each other between the three of them. The bay doors slide behind them, and their footsteps echo against the corridor. “This close from having Fives tell Kiva to intercept and send half that extra work to me. Just because the 212th is short handed with civilian relief doesn't mean they can dump it all on our civvie”. 

It doesn’t take very long for the troopers to reach the mess hall as the corridors lack their usual traffic. Second shift has already begun to take over their posts, and most of the first shift have found their spot in the mess hall. An unspoken understanding drives the three men to search for their leader before finding a place in line for the evening’s dinner options. 

There sitting cross-armed at the unofficial CO table, Wolffe watches in disinterest as Commander Cody and Captain Rex argue over which of their men would reach Arc Trooper rank next. This conversation would be somewhat bearable if his riduur was nearby. Usually chatting away with the 501st’s civilian relief officer, he finds a sense of comfort when you’re nearby. His eyes scan the mess hall as a few more groups trickle in, but disappointment only greets him at the door each time. However, the sight of three of his men walking straight to his table makes him straighten up. If it’s about the shiny who keeps starting fights with the 212th’s batch, he wants nothing to do with it.

“Commanders, Captain,” Sinker greets the officers as the three of them approach the table.

Each of the commanding officers take them in with wary eyes. Used to the trouble that their men tend to find themselves in, each dreads what the sergeant’s report will reveal.

“Sinker, Boost, Comet,” Wolffe acknowledges his men, “what is it this time? Colt starting shit he can follow through with?” With a sigh Wolffe begins to stand from his untouched meal.

“Surprisingly not,” Boost stops Wolffe before he can grab his helmet.

Wolffe looks at his men with a cautious gaze. If it wasn’t the shinies acting up, then it’s something far more serious. He slowly sits back down and looks between each trooper. All of whom shift as his eyes move from one trooper to the next. “Who’s in trouble then?” Wolffe asks.

“It would actually be our civilian officer, it seems,” Comet steps forward and meets Wolffe's cold expression. “As the 212th has recently lost their civilian relief officer, General Kenobi has handed off their previous assignments to our’s. From what I’ve been able to observe today and what I’ve overheard from Kiva and other deck officers, our civvie is overwhelmed with the sudden increase of two battalion’s worth of work”.

When you became the topic of discussion, Wolffe’s body froze as worry seeped through his plastoid armor through his skin and into his bones. Everything seemed okay from when the two of you caught up the other night. He tilts his head as he processes the corporal’s words. What is he missing?

“He shouldn’t be doing that though. Regardless of the deployment timeline, we still have enough of a grace period to wait for our new civvie officer,” Cody fills in for Wolffe. Turning to face his brother, Cody sees Wolffe fall further into himself. “Wolffe, why don’t you go check on your officer? I’ll speak with General Kenobi and remind him to split the work between the two relief officers or wait for our new civvie to arrive,” Cody calls out.

Without delay, Wolffe stands up and grabs his helmet. His body moves without thought, and Wolffe’s mind focuses on getting to you. “Thank you for letting us know of the situation,” Wolffe stiffly nods at his squad mates. 

All five men watch him quickly walk through the throngs of people and exit the mess hall. They exchange glances before chuckling lightly. This relationship had to be the worst open secret of the GAR.

If anyone thought it odd to see Wolffe so uncollected, no one said a word when he marched past them. His heart races as his boots pound against the metal tiling. Why didn’t he notice you were overwhelmed? A pang falters his heartbeat, and Wolffe sucks in a quick breath. How did he fail you so badly? Practically slamming the holopad, Wolffe hurries through the deck doors just as they open.

“Cya’rika,” Wolffe pants. Desperation crawls up his throat and clings onto his words as he searches the deck. The hairs on the back of his neck stand up as silence blankets over the deck once more.

“Wolffe?” a tired mumble calls from the officers’ consoles.

Wolffe practically throws himself down the stairs and through the scattered chairs in his path. His footsteps fall short when he reaches you. “Love,” Wolffe trails off.

Barely able to keep your eyes open, you peer up at your riduur. You don’t know how long after Comet left that you drifted off to sleep. More report requests filled your inbox and a sudden desire to just stop overcame you. Your body gradually sank onto your console, and the thought of doing anything caused your chest to seize.

“What are you doing here? Shouldn’t you be at dinner?” you mumble and rub your eyes. When you open your eyes again, Wolffe’s placing his helmet on the console near him as he moves closer to you. His warm eyes take you in with a concerned expression.

“I was, but a few pups told me that my cya’rika feels overwhelmed,” he slowly explains. Wolffe kneels by your side and rests his hands on the tops of your thighs.

Embarrassment burns your cheeks, and you can’t help but try to hide in your arms to avoid his gaze. Comet.

“Hey, hey,” Wolffe gently pulls your arms away and holds your face in his hands. The pads of his gloves softly graze your cheeks as he stares up with complete adoration. “What’s wrong, hm? Talk to me,” he quietly pleads.

The deck hums in anticipation as you try to form your explanation, but no words come to you. Your sight becomes blurry as tears burn your lash line. Opening your mouth, a lump forms in your throat and it constricts your airway. “I’m sorry,” you wheeze.

“None of that now. Let’s get you to bed,” Wolffe’s voice soothes your brewing anxiety.

“I still have-,” you quickly try to push on with your work. A wave of nerves rushes through you.

“Cya’rika, please,” Wolffe firmly stops you. He pulls your face to his, and he rests his forehead against yours. “We can figure this out together. I am here for you, and I want to support you. But I can only do that if you allow me,” he deep rumbles. Those words fill with tenderness as his lips invite you to fall into his hold.

“I didn’t want to bother you,” you choke on a sob.

“You are never a bother,” he states. Wolffe’s hold on your face tightens only slightly. “You hear me? Never a bother. I love you, and I adore everything about being with you. That means the celebrations and strife of life”. 

“I know, but-,” you pause. Biting on your lower lip, you focus your gaze down to your lap.

Wolffe waits patiently. The familiar feeling of dread and anxiety from war often nips at the back of his mind. He rubs small circles across your cheeks as he keeps an eye on you. “I’m here,” Wolffe whispers, “I’m here for you”.

“I didn’t want to add to your stress,” you admit. “I know that you’ve had to work with more battalions and join them for additional missions. Each time your ship requests permission to dock, I run down to the hanger just to make sure you’ve come back. Each time you step off that ship looking more worn down than the last time. So for the few moments we can spend together, I just want to enjoy our time and make sure you have a moment of peace”.

When you pull your eyes to meet Wolffe’s gaze, he greets you with the softest smile that causes a flurry of butterflies to tickle your stomach. Your chest rises and falls heavy as you wait for his response. The faint signals and hissing from the deck fill the silence, but the air feels less thick between the two of you.

“Mesh’la,” Wolffe sighs and pulls you into a tight embrace to rest his head against your midsection. His breath fans across your stomach as he peers up at you. Small wrinkles crease at the corner of his eyes as they look at you in warm regard. He takes ahold of your wringing hands in one of his own, and he unlocks them to weave his fingers with yours. “I suppose we need to work on communicating our needs to each other, hm,” Wolffe hums and trails his other hand up your side. Ripples of soothing tingles spread where his fingers drag across your uniform.

“You’d think with such close quarters, we’d be in sync at this point,” you let out a relieved chuckle.

“May I share my perspective, or would you prefer we wait until you’ve gotten some rest?” Wolffe asks. Without breaking eye contact with you, he moves your hand to press a flurry of small kisses. 

His lips pause at each of your knuckles, and he carefully rubs your overworked fingers. The tender care causes a sigh to slip from your lips. Your shoulders relax as you watch your riduur with an adoring expression. Wolffe holds your hand up to leave featherlight kisses on the tips of your fingers. 

Neither of you rush to carry on your conversation as Wolffe presses one more kiss to the palm of your hand. Then his lips trail to your wrist with a wicked glint in his eye. He nips at the soft skin quickly and beams from your laughter. His deep rumble joins you, and your carefree expressions only calm down when you hold his cheek in your hand.

“Do you have time now?” you ask. A spark of hope soothes the jittering residual nerves from the day.

“For you? I will always make time,” Wolffe squeezes your hand that cradles his face and rubs small circles on your thigh with his other.

Your smile falters, “That’s what I’m worried about”.

“I,” Wolffe pauses. His eyes flicker across your face as he thinks about the best way to properly convey his emotions. Never having the freedom to share his feelings with another in fear of heartbreak, Wolffe wants to prove his trust in you and foster your trust in him. “I have alway wanted to experience a love where I know my partner, my hopeful riduur, becomes my safe haven. A person who I can trust with my mind, body, and soul,” Wolffe slowly explains. Tearing away his gaze, Wolffe pulls your hands together and rubs his thumbs across your knuckles.

“That’s all I ever want to be for you,” you nod your head for him to continue. Eyebrows creased as you take in his sudden change in demeanor.

“And you are,” Wolffe says and squeezes your hands, “You are my everything. The only person I want to see after a long day, because I know my concerns will be heard. My partner who stays up in the late hours of the night just to spend time with me, because my shifts end later than yours. The love of my life who makes my heart swell when I see you hiding at the hanger doors when I come back from a mission,” he shares and shoots you a knowing smile.

“I thought you didn’t notice,” you bashfully confide.

“I will always notice you,” Wolffe holds your gaze, “I search for you in every room I enter, and I only rest easy when I see you close by. I imagine you when we’re away, because picturing you smiling, safe and sound, keeps me going as blasters echo around me. Remembering how stunning you looked on our first date to the observatory, I know I have a person worth fighting for to come home when I constantly question my worth and dispensability. I have a person who sees me as who I am and loves me for the man I am as well as the man I wish to be. When I picture my riduur, I am greeted by visions of you”.

Neither of you know who shed the first tear, but you are the first to pull your hand away from his to gently wipe his tearstained face.

“You mean everything to me, cya’rika. I want to cherish and devote myself to you as you deserve in your partner,” Wolffe’s voice thick with need. A need for you to understand just how much he is willing to do for you if you allow him. He awaits for your word, your permission, to love you so deeply and care for you how he so desperately wants to. “I will only ever do my best to love you wholeheartedly and take care of you. Mind, body, and soul. But I can only do that if you allow me. Please, I want to be with you if you will have me by your side”.

You open your mouth to respond, but Wolffe beats you with a knowing look, “And don’t apologize”.

The two of you erupt into laughter mixed with sniffles and sobs. Steady hands pull you off your station chair, and you find yourself pressing your face into the crook of Wolffe’s neck while settling on his thighs.

“How are you doing?” Wolffe hums. His arms hold you tight to his chest, and he tucks your head underneath his chin. 

“I’m exhausted,” you exhale. The weight of the day and emotional whirlwind brewing inside you suddenly dissipates. Fatigue settles in your bones as you pull yourself closer to your riduur. 

“Then I think it’s time for some rest,” Wolffe grunts and lifts both of you up from where he kneels. His arms cradle you to him as he moves the two of you away from your console system.

Tucking your legs around his waist, Wolffe nudges your head with his chin before asking, “Grab that for me?”

Leaning away from him, you quickly grasp his helmet in one hand and pull yourself back into his embrace. Your arms drape around his neck as your cheeks warm. “You don’t have to carry me the whole way,” you point out. The idea of the entire GAR seeing the two of you like this makes you feel dizzy.

“Would you like me to put you down?” Wolffe sincerely asks.

“Please,” you nod.

With one word, Wolffe pauses just before the deck entrance to help you unwrap yourself from his hold. His hand steadies you at the waist when your footing wobbles. Looking at Wolffe,  your smile blooms into a beaming expression of appreciation. 

“Thank you,” you say and press a chaste kiss to his jaw.

“Anything for you,” Wolffe returns. He takes his hand from your waist and offers it to you. When you take his hand, Wolffe walks with you through the entrance and into the corridor. He leads you past the civilian wing, and your heart flutters knowing you get to spend the night in the arms of your lover. “Cody’s going to speak with General Kenobi, but in the meantime, cya’rika, please send some of the additional work to Kiva. We were all worried today after we had realized the load of osik you were dealing with. You have a small army in your corner who has your back. Remember that, alright?” Wolffe squeezes your hand.

“I won’t forget it,” you squeeze his hand in return with a chuckle, “Especially now that I know I have your pups, the 501st troublemakers, and the 212th jokers keeping an eye out for me”.

Wolffe barks a laugh as he uses his free hand to punch in his room’s passcode, and when the door hisses open, he waves his arm in front to invite you in. 

The moment you step foot into his room for the first time in what feels like eternity, you take in the space. Hardly anything has changed as your eyes flitter from his bed to his lock box, but what you see on his desk makes you pause. Sitting beside a pile of schematics and datapads dangling off balance from the other objects that take up space, you find a hologram display set neatly into the corner away from the chaos. Every few seconds, a new image of you or the two of you shuffles onto display and ignites more sparks within your heart.

After you place his helmet on top of his chair, you tear your eyes away from the display and find Wolffe taking off his armor beside his bed. No matter where either of you are in the galaxy or how overwhelming life may be in a moment, you have each other to rely on. 

Wolffe straightens up to face you, but his head tilts to the side at the sight of your watery smile. “What’re you thinking,” he asks as he takes slow steps towards you.

“I’m just happy to be home,” you say and take him into your arms. One of his hands rests on the back of your head while the other wraps around you.

Wolffe’s chuckle vibrates against your chest when he says, “It’s not what I have imagined for our home in the future, but for now I am more than glad to share it with you. What’s mine is yours”.

“I’m home when I’m with you,” you mumble against his chest.

Wolfee presses a kiss to the crown of your head, “Welcome home, riduur”.

[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!

[vodika-vibes]

Hello Vodika!

I don't know if you accept requests, but I would like to make one request. Could I have a request regarding our Commanders (Cody, Wolffe, Fox, Bly, Ponds, Gree, Neyo and Bacara) where they will seen their S/O in 79's dressed in their battalion colors? I wonder how the boys will react to this. 😉😏

I greet you warmly and wish you all the best in your life! ❤

His Colors

Pairings: Commander Cody x Reader, Commander Wolffe x Reader, Commander Fox x Reader, Commander Bly x Reader, Commander Neyo x Reader

Word Count: 2041 in total

Warnings: Some suggestive comments and actions

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

A/N: hi there! I do always accept requests, so thank you very much for yours! I made the choice to only pick five Commanders of the ones you listed since I felt like it was going to get repetitive (and I don't know Ponds or Gree all that well).

Commander Cody x Reader - Orange at 79s

Cody’s mouth goes dry when he sees her.

She’s clad in a tight dress. It's tight enough that Cody’s not actually sure how she’s breathing, let alone walking. 

And it’s orange.

The same shade of orange that decorates the front of his armor. 

She sees him, and a blinding smile crosses her face, as she waves at him. He watches her say something to her friend, and then she hurries over to him and flings herself into his arms, “Cody!”

“Cyare,” His voice is slightly hoarse, “You look—” He trails off, not having the right words to describe her look.

Her smile brightens, “You like?”

Cody’s hands settle, tightly, on her hips, pulling her flush against him. He’s still dressed in his armor and, for the first time, he wishes he had something a little more casual to wear.

Her smile, somehow, brightens even more. “Good. I bought it for you to enjoy.”

“Yeah?”

She leans in so her painted lips hover over his ear, “My lingerie matches.” She whispers.

Cody is pretty sure that her comment just broke something in his brain, because the only thing he can think of, now, is pale orange lingerie against her pretty skin.

“Why would you tell me that?” He asks, “Now I can’t think of anything else,”

She laughs, and Cody’s heart swells, “Good. Now I’m sure I’ll be able to keep your attention.”

Commander Wolffe x GN!Reader - Grey at the Park

You’re late. You’re very late. 

It’s not your fault that there was an accident right outside your work, and you were stuck waiting for the traffic police to clean up the mess before you could leave.

But you’re still late.

You didn’t even have time to change. You’re still wearing your boring, grey scrubs. You went and bought a very nice outfit for your date with Wolffe.

And now you aren’t even going to be able to wear it.

It’s enough to make you want to cry.

Hopefully, Wolffe will still be waiting for you. He said he would, but you were supposed to meet an hour ago.

You wouldn’t blame him in the slightest for leaving.

You hurry into the park, heading straight for the meeting point. The meeting point is the bench near the fountain, the bench where you met him for the first time.

And he’s still there. A datapad in his hand, his gaze locked on the small device. You slow from your quick walk as you approach him. He really is so handsome.

He must have a sixth sense devoted to noticing people staring at him, though, because he lifts his gaze and meets yours. You watch as his gaze flickers down to your outfit, and you feel a surge of self-consciousness. 

Scrubs aren’t designed to look flattering on anyone, after all.

You nervously smooth your hand down the front of your scrubs as he stands and walks over to you, an unusual smile on his handsome face. “I’m so sorry I’m late,” You start, “I didn’t even have time to go home and change. I bought an outfit that’s more attractive than—”

You stop when his hand presses against your cheek, and he leans in to catch your lips with his.

He breaks the kiss and you stare up at him in confusion. And then you realize that your scrubs are the same color as the grey on his armor.

“You look really good in my colors, cyar’ika.” He murmurs, “How about, instead of going to dinner, we go back to your place, and I show you just how good I think you look.”

And your face burns with flustered embarrassment.

You suppose he likes it.

Commander Fox x GN!Reader - Red in the Senate Archives

Fox sighs as he folds his arms as he scans the archives.

It’s empty. Of course, it is. No one comes to the archives unless they need something.

He impatiently drums his fingers on his vambrace, seriously considering leaving. He has work to do, he shouldn’t have to wait for them to show up to do their job.

“Sorry, sorry! I’m here!” Fox turns when he hears a familiar voice and the, even more, familiar sound of heavy boots on the tiled floor. He’s not able to smother his smile when they come to a stop in front of him.

“You’re late, little bird.” Fox chides, though there’s no heat in his voice as he looks them over. They ran here from the lifts, obviously, there’s sweat on their brow and their short hair is plastered to their forehead.

“I know, I know. I’m sorry. The Chancellor needed me to deliver something to Senator Organa,” They gasp out, pressing their hand over their heart. 

“You need to work out more.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

They scowl at him, and then unzip their jacket and toss it over the back of a chair, “I’m in perfect health, thank you.”

Fox’s breath catches in his throat when he sees the shirt that they’re wearing. It’s silky, and sheer in some places. And the same color as his armor.

His little bird is wearing his colors.

Fox steps closer to them, absently tossing his gloves on the table as well, before he lightly catches the hem of the, surprisingly delicate, shirt. “What’s this?” He breathes out.

They turn so they’re facing Fox, “I bought a new shirt at lunchtime.” Their smile becomes playfully innocent, “Do you like it?”

Fox steps closer to them, his free hand sliding to the back of their neck, “Where’s the archivist?”

“Went home. It’s after closing time,” They reply.

Fox hums thoughtfully, and the hand that was lightly gripping the hem of their shirt moves to the topmost button, unfastening it. And then it slowly moves down the front of their shirt.

“Fox—”

“Well, since we’re alone,” Fox murmurs, as he leans in to hover his lips over theirs and slowly continues to unbutton their shirt, “How about you sing me a song, little bird?”

His comment is rewarded with a delighted giggle, and Fox leans in to seal his lips over theirs. 

His little bird wearing red is just not fair, really.

Commander Bly x F!Reader - Yellow at sunset

Bly’s not sure what he did to deserve the attention of someone as amazing as her. Especially since everyone and their cousin seems to think that he has a thing for his general.

Hell, even his girl thought that he had a thing for his general.

It had been a hassle trying to convince her differently. Luckily, General Secura had been more than happy to talk to her. And tell her all about her amazing girlfriend.

In any event, the conversation had been enough that she said yes when Bly asked her out. And the rest, as they say, is history.

Doesn’t mean that he understands why she wants him, of all men. But he’s not going to question it.

“Bly?”

Her voice, soft and musical, causes him to whip his head around, a broad smile already crossing his face.

And there she is.

Standing several feet away from him, her pretty hair pulled into a loose braid over one of her shoulders, her painted lips spread into a warm smile.

And clad in a dress in his colors.

That, and the way that the setting sun paints her in golds and oranges, Bly finds himself at a loss for words. 

Well, not really.

Only his words are all things like, “Marry me,” and “I love you”. Silly little comments like that.

Absently she plays with her braid, “Well, how do I look?” She asks shyly, “I know I don’t usually wear yellow—”

“You could wear a trash bag and still be the most stunning woman on any planet,” Bly says, once he manages to find his tongue.

She giggles, her hand coming up to cover her mouth.

If Bly ever has the displeasure of meeting the person who told her that her smile is weird-looking, he’s going to introduce them to his hunting knife. But he quickly shoves the thought to the side so he’s able to hurry to her side.

She smiles up at him as he stops in front of her, “You really like it?”

“I love it. You look amazing in my colors, you should wear them more often.” Bly lightly takes her hand in his and twirls her, pulling a startled laugh from her lips.

“Bly!”

“I just need to see from all angles,” He teases, as he twirls her again, the hem of her skirt flaring out, and twisting around her legs. “Yeah,” Bly breathes out, “You look perfect.”

“Thank you.”

He sets his free hand on her hip, “Dance with me?”

She averts her gaze, shyly. But there’s a smile on her lips as she nods. “As if you have to ask?”

Commander Neyo x F!Reader - Burgundy at the Winery

You smile politely at the sommelier as he approaches you. You offer him Neyo’s name and mention that he should already be here, and the older man smiles kindly, “He’s sitting in the back. Follow me.”

This isn’t your first date with Neyo, you’ve been dating for well over a year at this point, but he’s been deployed for the last six months, and this is your first proper date since the war ended.

As much as you’d like him to move in with you, Neyo refuses. Claiming that you’ve only been dating for six months and that more time is needed to determine if the pair of you are a good fit.

He’s not wrong, of course.

But he’s been your pick since the first day you met him. It’s disheartening to think that he doesn’t feel the same way.

You take a deep breath and smooth the velvety material of your burgundy dress. It’s new, and it might, very well, be the most expensive thing that you own. You had it specially made to match the burgundy of Neyo’s armor.

Hopefully, he’ll like it.

Hopefully, he still likes you.

You see Neyo before he sees you. He’s wearing a dark burgundy button-up shirt and some nice slacks. If you had to guess, the top two buttons probably aren’t buttoned, because that’s the kind of man he is.

He’s nursing a glass of wine.

You feel your heart clench. You really do love him more than life itself. You hope he knows that.

You can tell when Neyo sees you.

While your handsome Commander would never slouch, he was sitting casually. And the moment he sees you, he straightens in his seat. As you approach, you see his gaze dart down your body, and you see his severe mein fade into something more welcoming.

Well, welcoming for him, at least.

Neyo stands as you stop by his table, “Cyare,” He lightly takes your hand and presses a kiss to your knuckles. Now that you’re closer you can see just how much he appreciates how you look right now. “You look beautiful,”

You smile at him, all warmth and affection, and you watch as something soft creeps into his gaze, “Well, I wasn’t trying to match with you, but we do make quite a striking pair, I think.”

He chuckles and brushes the backs of his fingers against your cheek, “Well, we certainly look better than some of the people here,” He agrees, and then his gaze sweeps down your body again, and something like hunger slides into his gaze, “I’ll just have to behave myself until we’re alone.”

You tilt your head, questioningly.

“Ah, cyar’ika,” Heat runs down your spine at the molten way he says his pet name for you, “You’re wearing my colors. You didn’t expect me to not react, did you?”

A small smile lifts your lips, “Well, that’s something to look forward to, isn’t it?”

Neyo’s grin is small and secretive, but he lightly releases your hand and pulls out the chair next to him, “Your chair, cyare.”

“Well, thank you, Commander.” You sink into the seat and have to muffle your giggle as he sweeps your hair off your neck to press a lingering kiss against your neck. Tonight is going to be fun.

[batchedzine]

🍪 PREORDERS ARE OPEN!!! 🍪

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

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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)

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*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.

[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!

[amityahasfanartnowapparently]

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

[hellfiresky]

Tavi Drezz, a Coruscant-based investigative journalist and occasional war holographer, gains unprecedented access to the frontlines of the Clone Wars. Embedded alongside the Grand Army of the Republic units and other journalists, she captures not just the battles, but the sentient cost of the conflict. Clones, civilians, and systems caught in the war’s grip.

[or]

The Clone Wars reimagined through the eyes of a frontline journalist. Tavi's journey blends a personal narrative with immersive, in-world journalistic articles that frame events from canon episodes in a new light. Her reporting brings an outsider’s perspective to the war, confronting the messy truths of warzones, the clones who fight without a choice, and the systems that profit from conflict.

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Guess who posted a new fic instead of editing the latest chapters for the other two fics due this week? Written in Red joins Seeing Red and Red Tides in the same series/universe, but works as a standalone!

This fic is basically my excuse, as a documentary photographer and journalist, to write actual journalistic articles about TCW battles, complete with an outsider's perspective (and an excuse to include Wolffe because I can’t force him into the other two narratives without breaking the story).

Every other chapter will feature full-length in-universe articles (will be marked in the titles) because why not?

(Will be a bit slower to update than the other two because… journalism takes time :)

[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.