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starrylothcat · 2 years ago

Note

Hey hey! Love your writing!

I wanted to ask for some nsfw headcannons for Wolffe, Cody, and Rex. Where their F!Jedi reader keeps force projecting different sex scenes of them together during a briefing; with the boys trying to keep it together during the briefing and their reactions/what they say to her after.

I also just wanted to say, that you are one my favorite TCW/TBB writers on Tumblr!

Distractions - NSFW Headcanons with Cody, Wolffe, and Rex

Summary: You decide to spice up a pre-mission briefing meeting by projecting naughty visions to your clone, knowing you’ll pay for it later.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. Absolute filth. Smut. No real plot. Dom vibes from Wolffe and Cody, slightly rough handling but everything consensual. Fingering, oral, PiV sex. Reader a Jedi, not described in detail.

Pairings: Cody x Fem!JediReader, Wolffe x Fem!JediReader, Rex x Fem!JediReader

WC: Around 2,000 total (bullet points)

A/N: Let me tell you, the squeal I squealed when I got this ask! Thank you for this filthy request, anon! And thank you for your even kinder comment, I was having some self-doubt in my writing lately and I’m glad that you are enjoying my silly little stories, it means a lot to me and I love writing for y’all!

This is pure smutty goodness below the cut, I hope it’s what you envisioned. I had fun writing this for sure! I kinda got carried away with Rex, oops. Enjoy! 💛

✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.* ✧.*

💛 Cody 💛

He is a tough man to crack.

He’s always the Marshal Commander, taking his duties seriously on and off the battlefield.

You started innocently, visions of you kissing up and down his torso, slowly taking off his armor and blacks, fondling his cock, whispering how good of a girl you’ve been and that you’re ready to please your Commander in any way.

Cody didn’t even look at you, though you saw his hand twitch slightly at his side.

You smiled to yourself, projecting a more enticing scene into his mind.

This time, you were sucking his cock, his gloved hand wrapped in your hair, mumbling how amazing your lips felt around him, how much he was going to reward you later for being so good to him.

Still, nothing. Though his jaw seemed tense as he listened to Obi-Wan go over battle plans.

You knew you were playing a dangerous game, an exceedingly dangerous game, one that you will be thouroughly punished for later.

The thought shot a jolt of pleasure straight to your core, upping the ante again, needing him to crack.

The next image was of you, laying on his bunk, pleasuring yourself, two fingers deep inside your sopping pussy, your other hand pinching and tweaking your nipples writhing and moaning in pleasure, getting off completely fine without his assistance.

Since my Commander can’t be bothered to help me, I have to take matters into my own hands…

You held that teasing, lewd image in his mind, and you could almost feel the blade of his stare pierce straight through you as he finally made eye contact across the room.

It was a simple gesture that said so much, and you knew you had him.

After the meeting, you went straight to your personal quarters, knowing he wouldn’t be too far behind.

As your door hissed closed behind you, it was open again, and Cody had you pinned to a nearby wall so fast you barely had time to register what was happening.

Cody was deadly silent as he crushed his lips to yours in a bruising kiss, teeth and tongue clashing as his armored body pressed into your robed one.

You smirked against his lips as he pulled away for air, your lungs burning. “Cody-“

Cody growled as he flipped you around, your face pressed up agains the wall, tugging down your robes, revealing your ass to him and your glistening pussy.

He gave your ass a solid smack, his lips against your ear, heavy and commanding.

“You’re not getting away with this.”

You sighed in both pain and pleasure, hearing the clunk of his codpiece hitting the floor, his fingers gripping your ass hard as he rubbed his rigid cock at your entrance.

“Is this what you wanted?” He husked, “to be filled by your Commander? To beg for this cock? Oh, mesh’la, you’ll be begging.”

You let out a whine as he teased your dripping entrance with his cockhead, already thinking you maybe took it a little too far with your visions, knowing he was a man true to his word.

It was too late now.

“Cody, please, I need-“

Smack! Another slap to your ass, his other hand wandering between your folds.

“Only good, obedient girls get this cock. After that stunt in the comm room, you have a lot to make up for.“

He swiped a finger over your clit, causing you to cry out, your body twitching, unable to move much between the wall and his solid form behind you.

He roughly rubbed your clit, pushing two fingers into your entrance, immediately finding the spongy spot that made you see stars.

“You’re soaking, mesh’la, so needy for me.”

You could feel your release coming quickly, choking out his name as his other hand groped at your breast.

Cody knew you were close, feeling you tighten around him, your high pitched moans giving you away.

Cody removed his fingers right as you were about to reach your peak.

You whimpered, trying to lean back against him, desperate for your release, for anything.

Cody spun you around again, pressing his gloved fingers soaked with your juice to your lips.

“If you’re good, I’ll let you cum. You haven’t proved yourself to me, though. Now be a good girl, and clean me up.”

You licked his gloved fingers clean, tasting yourself and giving him a little show of what you could do with your tongue, if you let him.

Cody’s eyes darkened, slowly pulling his fingers out of your mouth, a line of spit connecting your lips to his fingers.

“On your knees, mesh’la. Like I said, you have a lot to make up for.”

🖤 Wolffe 🖤

The image you projected was absolutely filthy.

Your hands were pinned behind your back by his large hand, the other pressing between your shoulder blades keeping you down on the bed as he pounded into you from behind.

You were shamelessly moaning his name like a dirty Holofilm star, crying out for him to go harder, faster.

You stood at attention, casually glancing at him, noticing a bead of sweat forming at Wolffe’s temple.

You could sense he was trying his best not to leap over the holomap and ravage you in front of everyone.

You decided he had enough of the first fantasy, briefly closed your eyes, projecting another scene into his mind.

You were on your knees in front of him, your mouth open as he shoots ropes of cum all over your face, greedily lapping it up, kissing up and down his still-hard cock, begging for more.

Wolffe’s eyes flashed at you, his cybernetic eye and scar making him look more dangerous than usual, his eyes narrowing.

Got him.

You were enjoying watching him keep it together, a vein bulging at his forehead, his neck tense as he stood at attention, listening to Master Koon’s hologram.

You knew you were in for it after the meeting.

That was the entire point.

Wolffe was practically kicking down the door to your personal quarters after the meeting, pinning you to your bed, his mouth ravaging yours, moving down to suck and bite at your neck, hard.

He had your wrists held above your head with one hand, his grip like iron.

There was no escape.

“What was that?” He growled as he continued the assault on your neck, his hand tightening even more around your wrists that were wiggling to get free.

You whined as his hand that was digging into your waist moved under your robes, up toward your breasts.

“Answer me, mesh’la. Or you won’t get what you so obviously want.”

His gloved touch left a trail of fire on your skin, sending goosebumps across your body and a jolt of arousal straight to your pussy, your panties wet at the anticipation.

“You looked bored during the meeting.” You smirked at up at him, breathy pants leaving you as he touched you. “Thought you could use some entertainment.”

Wolffe’s gaze darkened at your teasing tone, the ghost of a smirk on his lips.

Without warning, he ripped open the front of your robes, yanking down your breast band.

You yelped as he attacked your breasts with this lips and teeth, leaving more marks for him to gently kiss over later when he was through with you.

“Do you want my cum, mesh’la? Is that what you want?” Wolffe grunted against your flushed skin as he switched to your other breast.

You gasped a yes, his teeth expertly nipping and tugging at your sensitive bud.

You writhed, your wrists still restrained above your head by his strong hand.

“I’ll fill your mouth to the brim, and you’ll swallow every drop, isn’t that right you filthy girl?”

You nodded, almost delirious just at his mouth on your nipples. He hadn’t even really started touching you yet.

“And then I’ll fill that pretty pussy of yours, but only if you behave. Will you behave for me?”

“Y-yes!” Your voice cracked, needing him to fuck you until you couldn’t remember your name.

“Yes…?” He stopped, his predatory gaze locking on you.

“Yes…Commander.”

“Good girl.”

Wolffe continued ravaging your breasts, your mewls filling the room.

“Please, I want your cock inside me, I want you to cum so deep inside me, Wolf-Commander. I’ll be good, I promise…”

Wolffe released your wrists, your hands finally free.

“You haven’t been good though, you knew that the second you invaded my mind with those visions.”

Wolffe sat up, and began removing his armor. You forgot it was even still on.

“I’ll make sure you’re properly punished for such distractions, and then I’ll decide when you’re ready for my cock.”

You shivered at his promise as he climbed over you, just in his blacks, the outline of his rigid cock straining against the fabric.

“I dunno, Commander. You seem to be all bark and no bite.” You teased, knowing you were getting yourself into even more trouble.

A dark chuckle reverberated in his chest, ripping your pants and panties down your legs, tossing them to the side.

Wolffe grasped your thighs, biting down into the soft flesh of your inner leg, earning a loud yelp from you as his tongue eased the first of many marks he will leave on your body.

“Be careful what you wish for, mesh’la.”

💙 Rex 💙

You had him sweating and fidgeting as Rex tried to keep a straight face in the briefing room.

Rex was attempting to listen to the mission report, but your vision in his mind was proving to be quite the distraction.

You were on his face, his hands grasping your thighs as he feasted on your pussy from below.

“Rex, oh kriff, more, please, I need your big cock, I want you to ruin me.”

Rex gave you a desperate look from across the room, slightly shaking his head.

You ignored his pleading glance, changing the vision.

Now, you were splayed out on his desk in his private Captain’s quarters, his cock driving deeper and deeper into you, your back arching as you rubbed your clit, cumming over and over again around him.

His desk was dripping with your juices, your breasts bouncing almost comically as you cried out his name, hamming up the vision to see Rex squirm.

Rex suddenly coughed, everyone in the room looking at him momentarily.

You rocked on your heels, hands behind your back, pretending to listen as the pre-mission brief continued, completely innocent.

Finally, the meeting ended.

You exited the room, Rex quickly walking past you.

“My office. Now.” He hissed quietly, before being called over by Anakin to discuss further plans.

When Rex opened the door to his office, you were sitting at his desk, waiting for him.

“You have a lot of explaining to do, General.” Rex strode up to you, placing his hands on his desk, leaning over toward you.

You loved it when he used his serious Captain voice on you.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Captain.”

“You know.” His voice dropped an octave, husky and gruff, just how you liked it.

“You’ll have to elaborate. I can’t read minds.”

Rex stood up straight, his expression unreadable. You continued to sit in his chair as he walked around the desk and over to you.

Rex leaned down again, placing his hands on the armrests of the chair, caging you in.

For a moment, you thought he was actually upset with you. You felt guilty, maybe you did take it too far in the meeting.

You opened your mouth to apologize, but Rex spoke first.

“I think you can, mesh’la. How else would you know those visions are what I think about doing to you every waking moment?”

His lips were hovering centimeters from yours, a quiet gasp leaving your lips, your body quivering at his statement.

Oh, he liked it.

His breath fanned over your face, feeling your panties dampen, his usual soft eyes glazed over with lust.

You leaned forward to close the small distance, wanting to taste him, but he pulled away, avoiding your kiss.

“Mmm, mesh’la. You’re not going to get what you want so easily.” Rex purred in your ear, his gloved hand snaking up your neck, tilting your head to the side.

He placed a hot kiss right below your ear, lazily licking your neck.

“Rex…” you sighed, grasping at his shoulder pads, his teeth grazing your skin, his lips pressing to the side of your jaw.

“You want something from me?” He removed himself from you, kneeling between your legs.

“I’m not sure if you deserve it. I could write you up for what you did back there.”

Rex hooked his fingers under your pants, pulling them down your legs. You lifted your ass, helping him remove your lower clothes.

“Yeah? What would the report say?” You shuddered as Rex began lavishing your bare thighs, teeth and tongue sucking and nibbling as he slowly made his way up to your aching apex.

You could feel Rex smirk against your skin.

“My General coercing me into questionable situations. Inappropriate use of Jedi abilities.”

Rex stopped right at your core, aching and throbbing for him. You could feel his breath on your pussy, desperate now for any friction.

You let out a frustrated whine as Rex kissed your inner thigh, ignoring where you needed him most.

“Rex…”

“Patience, mesh’la. You need a lesson in discipline, it seems.”

Rex brushed his nose against your clit, your hips instinctually bucking up toward him, your hands grasping at his buzzed hair.

You groaned impatiently as he gently kissed your labia, touching you everywhere but your clit.

“You’re not going to get what you want so easily.” He rumbled into your core, a finger now teasing your entrance.

You panted, knowing you asked for this, that you deserved this, but you could still protest to his teasing.

“Captain, please…” You begged, shifting your hips, hoping he would press his finger knuckle deep inside you.

Rex continued to just tease your entrance with his finger tip, slowly circling, not quite pressing all the way inside.

“Kriff, you’re so wet. Do you want me to fuck you on my desk? Do you want to cum over and over again on my cock?”

You nodded, heavy pants the only sound able to leave your lips as he finally pressed his finger inside.

“Use your words, is that what you want?”

Rex’s lips were brushing over your clit, the teasing almost too much.

“Y-yes! Please, Rex, I need you inside me!” Your words came out as a garbled cry as he suddenly sucked on your clit, adding a second finger to your pussy, stretching you so deliciously you thought you might cry, pleasure shooting up your spine.

And his cock wasn’t even inside you yet.

“You’ll get my cock, mesh’la, don’t worry. But first, I want you to cum just like this.” Rex added a third finger, his tongue and lips circling your clit, your vision white from the pleasure as you squirmed and writhed in his chair, totally at his mercy, your orgasm building quickly.

You came apart on his fingers, shaking and sobbing his name, pleasure coursing through you as Rex’s fingers and mouth worked you through your first orgasm.

“You’re so beautiful when you cum.” Rex’s pupils were blown with desire, licking his lips as he cleaned you up, his baritone voice was laden with desire, his control now gone.

You barely had time to come down from you high as Rex easily lifted you onto his desk, removing his codpiece in a flash, pulling down his blacks far enough for his flushed, dripping cock to spring free.

“And you’re going to cum again, and again, and again. Are you ready, mesh’la? This is what you asked for.”

Your answer was a cry of his name, his hands gripping your hips as he slammed into you, starting a devastating pace, fucking you exactly like you showed him in your vision.

Your last coherent thought before being so thoroughly fucked and blissed out by your Captain was that you should definitely tease him like this more often.

Tag list: @littlemissmanga @maybethatfanfictionwriter @secondaryrealm @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @starqueensthings @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @dreamie411 @aconstructofamind @coraex @multi-fan-dom-madness @freesia-writes @kashasenpai @sunshinesdaydream @din-miller @clonemedickix @wizardofrozz @pb-jellybeans @wanderer-six @blueink-bluesoul @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @523rdrebel @sleepingsun501 @sunshinesdaydream

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zoeykallus · 10 months ago

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Can you please please please do a

What made them fall in love with you- Wolffe , Rex, Jesse and fives? ✋🏻🙂‍↕️🤚🏻

Aloha! Oh sure, I love this topic 😊

Wolffe/Rex/Jesse x Reader HCs - How They Fall In Love With You

Warnings: None (Mostly Fluff)

Masterlist

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

Wolffe

How it starts:

It may sound strange, but the first thing he'll notice is that you're neither afraid of him nor condescending towards him. You'd be surprised how many people react negatively to him, partly because he's a clone, but also because his scars give him a slightly wilder appearance. Normal, decent behavior is already a ray of hope for the clone soldier.

You don't turn away, you treat him with respect and even if you find it a little difficult because the grumpy, handsome Wolffe makes you nervous, you maintain eye contact. This immediately makes you more likeable and arouses Wolffe's first cautious curiosity.

What happens next:

You think for yourself, you have your own opinion, even about the clones. You know what you want, and you have that smile that makes his knees go weak. Wolffe is anything but easily impressed, but you fascinate him. He may not be able to say exactly what it is from the start, it's lots of little things.

Wolffe never intended to fall in love, so he doesn't immediately understand the pull he feels when you're around, the pull you exert on him. He is always looking to be close to you, to make contact with you, and at first he doesn't really know why.

He likes your voice, he likes to listen to you, Wolffe admires the way you express your opinion, stubborn but not disrespectful. He's not normally a great talker, but he likes talking to you. Although you occasionally challenge him a little in your conversations, or perhaps precisely because of this, he enjoys your conversations to the full. You make him feel like he belongs, that his opinion is important, no matter what the topic, even if your opinions aren't always exactly the same. You take the time to discuss things with him that are close to his heart, really listen and try to understand. You probably have no idea how much he appreciates this.

In this context, it happens quite unexpectedly, a little smile from you, a look in your eyes, a tone in your voice and Wolffe is lost. He tries to spend every free minute with you. He already has your com number, so he calls you from time to time when he can, sometimes just to hear your voice and makes up some excuse to justify the call.

However, it will take him weeks, maybe even months, to admit to himself and to you that he has a crush. Be patient and try not to push him, sooner or later he will tell you of his own accord.

Rex

How it starts:

The rebellion has brought you together. You may not be a fighter, but you support the rebellion in whatever way you can. Maybe as a caterer, cargo pilot, cook, medic or administrator. No matter how you help, you do your best, and of course Rex notices. He notices the way you treat him and his brothers, you treat them like real heroes, soldiers, their welfare is close to your heart. You admire these men and their fight against the empire, and this is also visible to the outside world.

What happens next:

You keep coming into contact and your manner, your commitment, warms his heart. The fact that someone, who is not a clone, stands by their side in this way gives him hope again and again. After a while, it comes automatically when he sees you, he feels uplifted, hopeful, full of new energy.

It's actually pretty obvious, and yet you sneak into his heart rather than opening the door.

Rex seeks contact with you more and more often, discusses important things concerning the rebellion with you, even if you may not be able to contribute much, he wants to hear your opinion, feel the confidence in your smile, get the feeling that only you can give him, that everything will be all right.

He doesn't know what it is yet, why you have such an intense effect on him. Rex only knows that you are good for him, your smile, your words, your commitment, in whatever way. For him, in a way, it almost feels like you are the most important part of the whole rebellion. Which is nonsense from a rational point of view, of course, but he likes that feeling, he likes you.

The great leader, Rex, comes to rest with you, to find new hope and energy. When Rex returns from a mission, your face is the sign for him, the feeling that he is back home. He has been hopelessly in love for a long time without really knowing it.

Jesse

How it starts:

It's a coincidence that you happen to overhear the three clones talking about how poor the food they're getting is, how they're craving certain things. On impulse, you get some treats and bring them to the three clones (Jesse/Fives/Hardcase) who have been assigned to duty in one of the hangars for a while because of a “little stupidity”. In connection with their punishment, the food has also been restricted to protein bars.

The confused and, shortly afterwards, beaming, delighted faces of the clones make you grin.

Jesse looks up, with a critical eye, and asks, “What's the catch? Why is a Civi bringing us food?”

You laugh amusedly, assuring him that there isn't one, and you just wanted to do something good.

He looks at you indecisively for a moment, but finally goes for the roast chicken he had been craving.

What happens next:

You often pass the hangar on your way to or from work/university/etc., you pass it almost every day. The men greet you cheerfully every time. Again and again you bring food instead of just walking past, and soon you are invited to sit down and eat something too.

Out of curiosity, you ask, “How did the punishment actually come about?”

Jesse answers you, pointing at Fives and saying, “We helped tar and feather a Civi who was being a jerk to his girlfriend”

Fives chuckles, “It was worth it”

Jesse and Hardcase join in the giggles that elicit a grin from you.

“Sounds like you guys did the right thing”

Jesse smirks at you and says, “I agree”

You join the boys more and more regularly, sometimes even helping out a bit, joking and chatting. You like the clones, and they like you. Jesse in particular is very fond of you. The others are already starting to tease him about it, but they're decent enough not to do it in front of you.

He waits every day for you to come over again, he doesn't care about food anymore. He wants to see your face, hear your voice, make jokes with you. You're so nice, so different from other Civis. On the last day of his transfer, he asks for your com number to keep in touch with you.

You don't really expect him to call you, but he does, the very next weekend, and invites you to come to 79's.

You see a lot of clones here, a lot of the same or very similar faces. But apart from Jesse's tattoo, the grin he gives you is also unique. He is so incredibly happy that you actually came.

You sit together in a quieter corner and after a drink or two, Jesse says almost casually, with a wry smile.

“Hey you, I might have a crush on you”

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marymunchkiin · 1 year ago

Text

CLONES IN SUITS | COMMANDER WOLFFE

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

Version without shadows:

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

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

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

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

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

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

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oceansssblue · 10 months ago

Text

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!

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awkward-tension-art · 9 months ago

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Clones and Your Grief HC's

I’m coping with the fact that a family member died by writing headcanons for copy-paste-men. Yes, this is entirely self indulgent. Yes, I am writing based on what I had felt/gone through in the last 24 hours.

CW: Death of family member, reader is gender neutral, This isn’t proofread at all, grief, mourning, If i miss a tag lmk

Clones: Rex, Fives, Wolffe, Hunter, Echo, Wrecker, Tech, Crosshair

Minors DNI

You got the call this morning. Right before you got ready for work, you got the call of your family member passing away in the night. no warning. all so sudden.

It felt like you were struck with a speeder. Then, you felt nothing.

Logically, you knew it was shock. Your brain was overloaded, and you were unable to process. You weren't incapacitated yet, so you got up.

You have work to do.

So you went to work, shutting down and doing what you needed to do in order to make it through the day. You were in a daze the entire time.

Time went by too fast but also too slow.

You don’t even know when you got home. You just know that you clocked out and walked into your apartment. Unsurprisingly, your clone lover, who had a key, wanted to see you that night.

He took one look at you and knew something was seriously wrong.

When you told him, the grief finally hit you.

Rex

Will hold you, remaining silent.

He's lost brothers on the field and was forced to continue as if nothing happened. He knows why you shut down due to shock that morning.

So he understands.

He's just going to hold you tightly, and not let go until you do.

Rex is well aware that sometimes talking about it isn't going to help. So he keeps quiet and lets you speak when your ready.

He's a silent comfort. Let's you come to him if you need him to hug you, listen to you or cuddle you.

Fives

Immediately his arms are around you and he's whispering comfort

He might get teary-eyed too out of pure empathy.

He knows grief. he knows pain. and he knows what your feeling. So he wants to help you through it.

He had shut down too before, and only truly felt the emotion afterward. He gets how numbness might hit you in waves.

He'll go with you to the funeral if you want. he just wants to be by your side to help you.

Expect a lot of cuddling, honestly. He just wants to hold you and not let go until he's certain your alright.

Wolffe

He was one of 4 survivors of his entire legion getting killed. Trust me, he knows the feeling of grief.

His brothers and him all leaned on each other through their grief, and he's going to do the same for you.

He'll ask what you need, and act accordingly.

He's a steadfast shoulder to cry on. Like Rex, he doesn't talk much.

You'll have to go to him, he isn't going to push or pry. He knows if he tries to force you to feel what your not ready to feel, it'll do more harm than good.

He'll hold you, keep you close and try to give you everything you need.

Hunter

He knows something is wrong even before you walk through your door.

He's the type to try and comfort with the usual words of 'It'll be ok' or 'they're in a better place.'

If this doesn't help you much, he's flexible and patient. He'll adapt to what you need from him. Space? you got it. Closeness? he's there.

He's going to catch on very quickly if you don't eat or drink properly, so he's going to be pushy in that regard.

Hunter isn't going to let you abandon yourself because of your grief.

Like I said, he's patient and flexible, he'll do whatever he needs to help you through your grief.

Echo

He's the softest out of all of them. He's going to hold you, kiss your face and just be there for you.

Like Fives, he's extremely empathetic. He'll shed a tear just because your crying.

He'll take care of you, honestly. bring you meals, brush your hair (if you want), help you to bed, everything.

Your his heart, and he's in actual pain that your grieving.

Though, if you shut down the same way you did that morning, he's going to worry

He understands how quickly someone can spiral in grief, and he's going to move the entire galaxy to help you.

Wrecker

Like Rex, he's holding you and never letting go.

He's going to try and distract you, make jokes, get you outside into the sun, or get you moving at the very least

He won't allow you to close yourself off. He'll give you space, but he won't let you shut him down completely.

Also wants to attend the funeral with you, if you allow him. He'd be holding your hand the entire time. Though, if it's a family-only event, he understands.

He's pretty quick to pick up on what you need. You need someone to hold you? he's there. You need to get your grief-driven anger out? He's got a pipe ready and some scrap piles that need beating up.

He's going to be by your side through it all.

Tech

First thing he asks is 'What happened?'

Admittedly, he gives some standard responses, such as 'I'm sorry for your loss' and other things like that.

If it doesn't help much, he stumbles slightly. He knows your going through mourning. He knows whats happening logically. but he can't logic his way through this.

So, Tech is going to act with his gut feeling, and try his best to help and comfort you.

He does some researching and looks more into how best to help you through your grief. He's fully prepared depending on the stage of grief you've hit.

He'll talk you through the bargaining phase. Help you get your anger out. Make sure your eating and taking care of yourself through the depression phase.

He's with you, to the best of his ability.

Crosshair

He's not going to say a lot. his words are minimal at best, instead opting to physically comfort you.

He becomes...protective. more so than usual.

It's because your at an extremely vulnerable position emotionally and mentally. He'll be damned if he lets something or someone cause you any more pain and grief.

He's going to attend the funeral with you. if its family-only he's going to go anyway and remain at a distance. Practically shadow you.

Crosshair is going to be extremely sweet and soft holding you. He doesn't want you to bottle up your emotions, so he's going to just wrap his arms around you and let you cry.

Again, his comfort is more physical rather than verbal.

#reader insert #tcw x reader #captain rex x reader #fives x reader #hunter x reader #echo x reader #tech x reader #wrecker x reader #crosshair x reader #commander wolffe x reader #tbb x reader #tcw x you #star wars tcw #star wars the bad batch #star wars the clone wars #star wars x reader #star wars headcanons

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mae-lou-ron · 4 months ago

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Keeping You Around

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Summary: Commander Wolffe's assignment to embark on a reconnaissance mission takes an unexpected turn when he finds himself stranded with you—a development he was far from prepared to deal with.

Warnings: hurt/comfort, canon typical descriptions of violence and mild injury, mando'a nicknames, mutual pining, idiots in love arguing, Wolffe kriffs up, stubborn Wolffe is stubborn, but stubborn reader is stubborn. Fluff and slightly suggestive at the end.

Word Count: 3,700 (it was supposed to be like 500 but again, brevity is not my strength, okay?)

A/N: Real talk I wrote this in about 3 hours last night. Barely proofread bc I’m a dangerous woman trying to stop falling down editing rabbit holes at 3am. Lots of familiar tropes and scenarios ahead, but my goal was to practice writing conflict dialogue and thought Wolffe would be fun to try. Inspired to write this while watching Nick and Jess argue in New Girl S1E22 😜

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

"Cyar'ika!" Wolffe's voice boomed through the dilapidated hangar, the sudden sound of it nearly making you drop your spanner. "Cyar- Maker… there you are. What is wrong with you?!" Wolffe demanded as he strode over to you from a room off to the side, angrily trying to get his pauldron to snap back into place.

"Ah, Commander, I see you’ve regained consciousness," you said drily, not looking up from the panel you were rewiring. Your hands were growing tired, just like the rest of you from the tedious task of fixing the power supply in hopes of getting a signal out to the 104th.

"Care to explain why I woke up in a strange room with half my kit off?" Wolffe demanded, his voice a dripping with irritation.

"Because you were much easier to drag without it… and I needed to make sure you weren't bleeding internally while you were unconscious," you said matter-of-factly. "I'm sorry—if I had time to wait for you to come around, I would have asked," you said, your voice losing its edge incrementally as you met his eyes for the first time. “Not like you would have admitted you were injured anyway,” you muttered under your breath.

He regarded you carefully, his expression severe. You could see his mind racing through a hundred scenarios while he’d been unconscious, though thankfully none had come to pass. His ARC trooper instincts kicked in as his eyes scanned the space for potential threats.

"Relax," you sighed. "I cleared the place, there's no one here. By the state of things I don’t think anyone has been here for a long time,” you gestured around to the various consoles and furniture covered in a thick layer of dust and debris. “Except for the scurriers, at least,”

"How… where's the shuttle?" he turned his head towards the closed hangar doors. No shuttle in sight.

"About 5 klicks east where we crashed it…" The panel before you flickered a few times, the power pulsing it to life before it cut out again. "Dank farrik!" you swore and kicked the side of it as the last of your patience with the blasted thing finally left your body. "It's no use, I can't keep the power on long enough to start anything up," you grumbled as you pulled yourself to your feet, wiping your hands on your flight suit in frustration.

When you looked up at Wolffe, he was staring at you with the same unreadable expression. His brow furrowed slightly as he took in your disheveled appearance and the scattered tools around you. His hands perched on his belt, mismatched eyes glittering.

"What?" you shrugged, slightly unnerved by his stern gaze.

"Where we crashed it, Lieutenant?" Wolffe's deep voice thick with implication. "The last thing I remember is you ignoring my direct order to put the ship down in that clearing."

"If I had, the clankers would have advanced on our position, cutting off what looked like the only civilian escape route,” you countered. "Landing further away drew them to us instead…it wasn’t part of the plan to get shot down…" you added as you remembered the chaos of the crash. The impact had been jarring, a barrage of tree branches cracking against the hull like breaking limbs. A second impact threw an already off balance Wolffe into one of the wall panels, knocking him out.

You managed to keep the shuttle in the air long enough to find a patch where the trees thinned out. In all honesty, it wasn't even your worst landing to date. As soon as it stopped moving, you immediately went to Wolffe. The shuttle was trashed, but you thanked the Maker one of the speeders stowed within it had survived. With great difficulty, you dragged Wolffe's unconscious form from the wreck, your muscles screaming in protest as you moved him to a safer distance away. There you were able to quickly assess his injuries, relief washing over you when you found a strong pulse and no signs of severe trauma. A few bruised or broken ribs, maybe, and thankfully he was wearing his helmet in the crash, but you still needed to check him for a concussion.

With Wolffe secured, you turned your attention to finding shelter, knowing that staying put wasn't an option. Your initial scans of the area indicated a hidden structure not too far from your position. So, with even greater difficulty, you heaved him onto the back of the speeder with whatever supplies you could quickly grab, and took off to higher ground.

“We’re both alive, relatively unscathed, gave the civilians a chance to escape, I handled it, Wolffe,” you reasoned, annoyed but not surprised at his reaction. Wolffe was a textbook control freak, but over the last year it had become almost endearing to you. Relishing in the way his eyes widened when he was flustered, or how his gravely tone would elevate ever so slightly when you pissed him off.

Like right now.

"Maybe if you listened to orders for once, you wouldn't have had to," Wolffe retorted, through gritted teeth.

You rolled your eyes. "Oh, because you're such a shining example of following protocol?" Referring to all the times Wolffe and General Plo bent protocol to keep their men alive, to secure the mission’s success.

"That's different and you know it," he growled, taking a step closer.

"How? How is it different, Wolffe?" you challenged.

He hesitated for a moment, then sighed. "Because I'm trying to keep you safe, dammit."

"And who's been keeping you safe?" you raised your voice, your frustration bubbling. He bristled, but you could tell your words surprised him when he deflected back to you.

“You can’t just keep running into the fray like that, you’re going to get yourself killed!”

“Ok, that’s actually kinda hilarious coming from you,” you chuckled sardonically.

“You’re not a soldier…and lately you seem set on going against everything I say trying to keep you alive!” his voice grew louder with every word.

“Wow, Wolffe. Do you even hear yourself?!” the words came out of your mouth, stopping him in his tracks, scowling at his puzzled expression.

“What?" he snapped in a deep voice. His eyes blazed with both anger and confusion, clearly caught off guard by your outburst. The tension in the air was palpable as you both stood there, locked in a silent standoff.

“I can take care of myself, and believe it or not, I always have, with or without you around,” you growled. “And I don’t appreciate you making me out to be this fragile little thing who needs to be taken care of…I volunteered for this mission, and I dragged your heavy ass here away from the droids while you were taking a nap,”

“I wasn’t aware I was responsible for what happened while I was unconscious, cyar’ika,” his tone filled with warning.

"And I certainly wasn't aware that saving your life would piss you off so badly," you spat, your chest heaving with exasperation.

The tension between you simmered, neither willing to yield. Wolffe had been acting strangely ever since he learned you volunteered for this mission. His behavior grew even more peculiar when you were paired to conduct recon scans for command. It made sense—you were a decorated pilot, and he was a decorated commander—yet his unease was obvious.

While Wolffe is a lot of things, he is not someone who will willingly talk about his feelings. So you stood there, glaring at each other, both too stubborn to acquiesce. You were slowly moving towards one another, your determination coming off you in waves.

“When are you going to stop being so stubborn,” he said, chest puffing out slightly.

“Maybe I’m waiting for you to do the same,” you hissed.

“Don’t count on it, cyar’ika.” he took another step in your direction. The clones were already formidable in their presence, but Wollfe’s brightly painted armor made his presence even more powerful. It took you gritting your teeth and clenching your fists at your side to quell the impulses that were firing in your brain. You closed the distance, showing you weren’t going to back down. Not on this.

“Well, Commander, next time I’ll be sure to avoid any missions you’re assigned to, then you won’t have to carry my ‘dead weight’ around…” you half regretted the words as soon as they left your tongue, you wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt that maybe— maybe you’d misheard things. But it looked like you were going down this road anyway.

His eyes flashed with anger, but also a realization at your words. For a moment, you saw a flicker of vulnerability beneath his tough exterior. But as quickly as it appeared, it was gone, replaced by a sheepish anger that spoke volumes.

“Yeah Wolffe, I overheard you talking to Rex before we left,” you said as you bit back the fire in your lungs. “Ironic, don’t you think?” you sighed after a few long moments of silence.

Wolffe's conversation with Rex had echoed in your mind, each word a dagger twisting deeper into your heart, fueling your pain. You couldn't shake the feeling, the knowledge that someone you cared for so deeply likely saw you as nothing more than a burden.

His face fell as your words deflated him. “You…” he sighed. “You weren’t supposed to hear that…”

“Clearly. But now that I know how you really feel about my abilities we can stop pretending, so thanks for that I guess,” you looked at the floor, unable to keep the hurt from your voice now.

Wolffe's expression shifted, a sadness crossing his features. He reached out but stopped mid-air, unsure. "That's not... I didn't mean it like that," he said, his voice softer now, tinged with a hint of desperation. "You have to understand, cyar’ika, the situation is-"

“Will you stop calling me that!?” You nearly screamed, your voice echoing off the bare walls in the hangar. You could have sworn he winced, the only sound being the wind blowing through the cracks in the door. Wolffe opened his mouth to speak, then closed it again, clearly struggling to find the right words.

"I would never speak about you like that, Wolffe, especially not to Rex," your voice was uncharacteristically small as you crossed your arms protectively. You had considered dropping the mission, faking an injury—anything to avoid this. But Wolffe was still one of your closest friends in the GAR; he'd have seen right through you. So instead, it lit a fire in you to prove him wrong. You knew it was childish to crave his approval, to want him to be proud of you. But what else could you do when you were desperately in love with the man?

Wolffe's eyes searched your face as he stepped closer, shoulders slumped incrementally, but his voice was low and earnest. "Those words were never meant to hurt you," he softly called you cyar'ika again. You ignored it, waiting for him to continue. "What you heard... it wasn't what you think." He reached out once more, but you stood firm against the pull of his warmth. "Please, let me explain?"

His tone was softer than you'd ever heard from him. A tingle ran down your spine as you glanced at his hand, then back into his tawny eye. Swallowing the lump in your throat, you raised your eyebrows, daring him to continue.

"I'm all ears, Commander."

Wolffe grabbed a nearby stool and pointed at it, which you took only after he took a seat on the stool opposite you. He suppressed another wince with a hand over his ribs, you’d apply more bacta later, you thought to yourself as your knees nearly bumped his, but you ignored that too as he let out a ragged sigh. Running a hand through his cropped hair, he sent a few tendrils astray and you had to avert your gaze to avoid being distracted by the sight.

"You’re right, I didn't want you to come here with me," he said quietly. When he felt you bristle and open your mouth to protest, he touched his fingertips to your knee, seeking permission before he continued. “But then you volunteered- and what was I supposed to tell you- tell them?”

“You didn’t think I could handle it,” you said softly shaking your head and shifting in your seat with your eyes still on the floor.

"It's not that," Wolffe said, his voice low. He leaned forward, his knuckle gently nudging your chin. When you looked up he was gazing at you with an intensity that made your heart thrum. You could feel the weight of what he was trying to say in his long pause. “I didn’t think that I could handle it,” he confessed, eyes guarded as he gauged your response.

Wolffe's confession caught you off guard, revealing a rare vulnerability beneath his gruff exterior. The bands around your heart loosened as understanding dawned, pieces falling into place. His overprotective nature, steely demeanor, and reluctance to have you on this mission suddenly made sense. Gently, you placed your fingertips over his where they rest on your knee, a silent acknowledgment of this newfound insight. But still, what he said to Rex still had its bitter sting.

“Anything would have been better than you letting Rex think I was a liability, Wolffe,”

“I know…I’m…sorry, I can’t even imagine how angry I’d have been if I were you." He paused, his eyes searching yours.

“I’m still angry,” you said quietly, but a glimmer of your softening resolve shone through, he saw it making his posture relaxing incrementally.

“And I deserve it,” he turned his hand over beneath yours, wrapping his gloved fingers around your palm. The gesture surprising both of you. “I’ll talk to Rex as soon as we get out of here- but I don’t even think I’ll need to once he reads our mission report,” he mused.

You both sat in silence for a moment, the weight of your conversation hanging between you. The anger that had fueled your argument earlier had dissipated, replaced by a different kind of tension. Wolffe's thumb traced gentle circles on the back of your hand.

“I won’t make this mistake again, I promise you,” he said before he brought your hand to his lips, gently pressing them to your knuckles. You felt his breath fan over your skin, making your own breath stop in your throat at this unfamiliar, but not unwelcome side of Wolffe.

“Thank you,” you murmured as you moved your hand from his lips to his cheek. "We've always been quite the team," your eyes locked with his mismatched gaze. “We can protect one another. Together. I don’t need a savior, I just need to know you’ve got my back, as I have yours. I always will…”

Wolffe's eyes softened, a mix of gratitude and admiration shining through. He leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours in a gentle Keldabe kiss. "Always, cyar’ika," he murmured, his voice low and filled with promise. "Together.”

You chuckled softly at his pet name for you. "Wolffe, why do you keep calling me that?" The question had been on your mind for a while, but you'd never asked before. Truthfully, you were afraid to know the answer. You'd always assumed it was some kind of teasing nickname, especially given how his brothers snickered whenever it slipped from his lips around them.

Wolffe shifted uncomfortably under your gaze. A strange and unfamiliar site, but you couldn’t help but smile internally at your ability to unearth this side of him. After a moment, Wolffe seemed to find some resolve. His gloved hand reached up and brushed a stray hair from your eyes. When you looked at his face again you swore you saw pink in the man’s cheeks.

Wolffe can blush? You thought to yourself, eyes growing wide at this information. “It’s mando’a…there are words in basic that would cover it, but it’s…it’s more like a feeling. A sentiment…” he trailed off. His eyes softened as he looked at you, a hint of vulnerability in his expression. "The closest thing I can think of is…darling, beloved," Wolffe swallowed, his voice low and tender.

The realization dawned on you like a class two Venator crashing down, and between all the tension from the mission and trying to survive on this rock, you could help but burst into a fit of soft laughter.

“What?” Wolffe looked confused.

“So it doesn’t mean ‘idiot’?” You bit the inside of your cheek to stop your giggles.

Wolffe chuckled, a rare smile tugging at his lips. "No, cyar'ika. It definitely doesn't mean 'idiot'." He paused, his eyes crinkling as they met yours.

“I sure feel like one right now,” you murmured, your eyes distant thinking back to some of the times it slipped out in conversation.

“I’m the dik’ut in this case, cyar’ika,” he gazed at you softly, hand brushing another stray hair from your face.

“Well…” you said, leaning in closer. Your skin flushed with the renewed electricity between you. “I suppose it’s alright, now that I know why your brothers have been laughing when you say it…”

Wolffe slapped his forehead. "Kriff," he muttered, shaking his head. "I'll need to have a word with them when we get back." His eyes softened as they met yours again, a hint of amusement dancing in them. "But right now, I'd rather focus on you, cyar'ika." His hand cupped your cheek, thumb brushing gently across your skin as he leaned in closer. "Have you any idea how long I've wanted to kiss that scowl off your face?" he said softly, his nose brushing against yours. He paused there, giving you time to pull away.

You scowled at him for good measure, “So, what are you going to do about it, Commander?” You whispered, eyes locked on his.

Wolffe's eyes narrowed, something swirling in their depths. Without another word, he closed the distance between you, his lips capturing yours in a tentative kiss. His hand cupped the back of your neck, pulling you closer as he poured all his unspoken emotions into the gesture. When you finally parted, breathless and redfaced, he rested his forehead against yours, a soft smile playing on his lips.

“Believe me now, cyar’ika?”

"Yes..." you murmured dreamily, your eyes still closed. "But I think I could use a little more convincing," you added, savoring his taste as your tongue grazed your bottom lip. He grinned and leaned in again, this time with more fervor, eager to kiss you properly—to kiss you the way he'd always longed to but never thought he could.

“Thank you,” he murmured against your lips.

You swallowed thickly, your eyebrows knitting together slightly. “What for?”

He put both of his hands on your cheeks, thumbs caressing your skin lightly. You found your eyes fluttering closed at his touch.

“For saving my life,” he whispered.

Your eyes snapped open. The sincerity in his voice made your heart skip a beat. You couldn't help but smile, your hand coming up to cover his on your cheek.

“Don’t mention it,” you grinned. “I’m sure you’ll get your chance to repay the favor before we get out of here,” you chuckled.

“At least once, I reckon,” he huffed, the corner of his mouth twitching. “and about ‘cyar’ika’— I won’t call you that anymore, not if you don’t want me to. It just sort of…slips out…”

You interrupted him by ghosting your lips over his. “Don’t you ever stop calling me that…”

He smiled, his eyes crinkling at the corners as he leaned in to kiss you again. The warmth of his lips against yours sent a shiver down your spine, and you found yourself melting into his embrace. As you pulled apart, breathless and giddy, you couldn't help but think that maybe, just maybe, this insane mission had been worth all the trouble after all.

“Now,” he said, reluctantly pulling away. “As much as I’d like to see where this goes, cyar’ika, we should probably get back to finding a way to contact General Plo,” he said with the faintest edge of regret in his voice.

“I would have gotten it working if you hadn’t interrupted me,” you teased.

Wolffe chuckled, shaking his head. "Is that so? Well, I suppose we'll never know now." He stood up, offering you his hand. "Come on, let's see if I can get that comm working while you get some rest. I can tell you haven’t slept since the crash," His eyes sparkled with a new affection and familiar determination, reminding you why you'd fallen for this gruff commander in the first place.

“I still need to check you for a concussion…” you pointed your finger into his chest plate as he guided you towards the room he’d just left.

“Oh I think it’s safe to say I am— so you’re just going to have to figure out a way to keep me awake tonight I guess, Lieutenant,” he said ominously, but his face gave nothing away.

You couldn't help but laugh. "Is that an order, Commander?" you teased, quirking an eyebrow at him. Wolffe's lips curled up in a rare, mischievous smirk as he pulled you closer, his voice low and husky as he murmured close to your ear. "Consider it a personal request, cyar'ika."

#star wars fan fiction #the clone wars fan fiction #tcw fan fiction #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x f!reader #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe fluff #mae lou ron writes

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coffeeandbatboys · 1 year ago

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His pack (Wolffe x Fem!Reader)

Ok honestly I think Wolffe would go crazy at the thought of having a kid of his own.

Warnings: pregnancy, stretch marks, Wolffe absolutely adores the reader, OOC Wolffe.

Your lover has finally come home. After all the nights alone, all of the holo-calls and worrisome days when you didn’t hear from him, he was home.

Wolffe can’t help but stare. You’re standing in all your heavily pregnant glory, carrying a precious child.

His child.

The thought melts him and builds him up simultaneously.

His pack.

It’s been months since he has seen you in person, and each day apart from you made him more desperate to get home.

“Mesh’la.” He whispers happily into your temple, hands over the bump that has definitely grown since he’s been gone.

You gratefully lean into the gesture, before doubt clouds your mind. The dark striation across your skin becomes a burning reminder.

“I have stretch marks now.” You mutter with a frown.

He shakes his head. “Better to have those from a job not easily done than scars from battle. You…” he kneels to kiss your bump, specifically the areas with marks, “…are absolutely amazing Cyar’ika.”

The look he gives you is so full of love and joy. Maker, he may have a cold exterior, but he is yours till the day he will keel over and die. And you have a feeling that the same honor will be extended to your child.

His child.

His pack.

#star wars #wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x reader #tcw wolffe #clone wars wolffe #star wars wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #wolffe x fem!reader #commander wolffe #tbb wolffe #wolffe x pregnant reader

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dickarchivist · 10 months ago

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Lullaby of the Wolffe

Wolffe × GN!Reader

Word Count: 1087

Playlist: Lullaby of the Wolffe

Rating: PG Fluff, but as always Minors DNI 🔞

Contents and Warnings: Insomnia, growing panic due to Insomnia, service animal (charhound), intrusive thoughts, swear words, soft Wolffe, potentially OOC Wolffe, fluff, hurt/comfort, soft sleepy singing

Summary: plagued by anxiety, you can't sleep. Despite your best efforts, Wolffe wakes up beside you. Instead of being angry, he offers you a Lullaby to try and help calm you down.

Author's Notes: The other night I had really bad panic Insomnia and I wanted a comfort fic tailored to my bullshit. I decided it would be a good idea to make a playlist of songs I felt like Wolffe would sing to me in a soft baritone while rubbing my back and trying to soothe me out of my panic. Now that I've made it through the night, I'm writing the fic to go with the playlist. Please enjoy both! I hope you get some rest.

Taglist: @anxiouspineapple99 @wolffegirlsunite @wizardofrozz @eclec-tech @dystopicjumpsuit @clonethirstingisreal @wings-and-beskar @multi-fan-dom-madness @starrylothcat @n0vqni @sev-on-kamino @mythical-illustrator @523rdrebel @littlemissmanga @atomickidsoul @moonwreckd

You can't sleep.

You went for a run. You hit the gym. You walked your charhound. You read a whole book, from start to finish. Cooked meals for the whole week, cleaned the house top to bottom, The laundry was even folded.

You can't sleep.

It wasn't for lack of trying. You'd lay in your bed, but as soon as you'd turned off the distractions, you were alone, and everything else came rushing in to attack you.

"You left the stove on. No. Not the stove, the oven. What's that smell? Are you burning the house down!?" You jump out of bed, run to the kitchen, and there's nothing wrong. The place is just how you left it. That burning smell was the crisp charcoal smell of your service charhound, Soot. You mentally kick yourself, how could you be so stupid? You know that smell, you've known it since she was a pup...

Back in bed. Okay, you think, okay this time will be it. This time you'll sleep.

"You forgot to feed Soot. Useless stupid owner how could you do that to your own baby?" But Soot is asleep at your bedside, her belly warm with her meal. You lay back down. You try to sleep.

You. Can't. Sleep.

Tears well in your eyes and you scream. You're so tired. You can't believe how exhausted you are and yet not a single moment of rest finds you. Soot gets up and puts herself in your arms to keep you from getting distructive. Her higher temperature keeps you warm, but all you feel is cold. You don't sleep a moment all night.

You feel sick, you're sluggish all the next day, because of course. You couldn't sleep. It's been 52 hours. The first day you could hide it, the second it started to show, but today... today you're with the wolfpack. If Plo Koon doesn't bring it to anyone's attention first, you know that Wolffe won't let it slide when he sees you. You've never wanted to stay away from the steely eyed commander more than today.

"You look like hell." Wolffe actually takes his helmet off to get a look at you, and it makes your stomach hurt when you see the concern on his face.

You sigh, roll your eyes, "Thanks. Go away." and turn away from Wolffe, trying to focus on your own work.

"No." His voice is hard, and you want to lash out, but when he grabs your wrist and turns you around, all your anger dissolves at his orders, "Tell me what's going on. Now."

Tears welling in the corners of your eyes, you try to blink them away, try to act tough, but you break under his gaze. "I can't sleep!"

You sob, hard. Wolffe jumps when you rush forward to close the gap, pressing your face against his chestplate, arms clinging around him, and openly sobbing. He hesitates, but eventually puts his arms around you, rubbing your back. It's so comforting, but it only serves to make you cry harder. It makes you realize just how touch starved you've been...

"Alright Cyar'ika, why can't you sleep?" You didn't know his voice could be so soft...

"I d-dont- dont know!" When you pull back, he holds your cheek, rubbing away tears. You close your eyes, and try to breath a little more evenly, "I h-have Insomnia, a-and it's been a few days since-"

"Days?!" Wolffe barks, now holding your face in both hands, "Kriff- you're coming with me."

He grabs your wrist, hauling you through the hallways of the ship. He opens a door to reveal a vacant sleeping quarters, and your stomach drops. "N-no, Wolffe, you don't get it... nothing is going to help, and especially not without Soot here, I won't be able to fall asleep. It's hard enough with Soot, but alone, I can't-"

"Shut up." You do, looking away bashfully, until the door closes behind the two of you, at which point Wolffe starts to take off his armor, "Get in the bed."

You blush wildly, covering your eyes, "Wolffe I'm sleep deprived, not- not sex deprived, I'm really sorry if I misled you but- s-stop laughing!"

"Cyar'ika, we are not having sex. Just getting my armor off so I'm comfortable too. Get in the damn bed, you'll see." Wolffe takes your hands from your eyes and leads you over to a bunk.

He helps you down, takes off your boots, and guides you to lay down. Your face is still hot when he gets into the bed with you, and he earns a squeak from you when he handles you into a cradled position. Your head rests on a pillow between yourself and his arm, comfortable for both of you. His other arms curls around you and you feel his hand rubbing soothingly up and down your back.

"I could use a rest, and you definitely need one. Get some sleep... that's an order." He chuckles at the last part, and for a moment, you think this might actually work.

Unfortunately, as soothing as it is, Wolffe's presence did nothing to stop the panic Insomnia. As soon as it's quiet, your mind starts racing. Thoughts of guilt, of shame, thoughts that this is all pity, that he didn't want you because you're undesirable, that-

"Cyare, quit squirming. What's going through that head of yours?"

"E-everything..." damn it. You didn't even notice your movements, but they'd been enough to wake Wolffe, "Once it's quiet, I can't sleep... can't stop the thoughts..."

There's a long, painfully quiet moment where you think you've said something wrong, until you hear Wolffe take a very deep breath. He kisses your forehead, whisping on your skin, "If you tell anyone about this I swear..."

It starts as a hum, a familiar tune rumbling in his chest. Eventually it builds, and he's whispering the song to you. You pull away a little, looking at Wolffe in awe, "Are you... singing me to sleep?"

"If it works." He kisses your forehead, encourages you to get comfortable again, and then picks up his song again once you're secured to his chest.

You don't even notice when you fall asleep. And you don't know how long you slept, but it was peaceful. Restful. You don't even remember the dreams you had, if you had then at all.

"Hey there Cyar'ika, sleep well?" Waking up in his arms, that's what really felt like a dream.

"Thanks to you, I did."

#from the archivist #commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #wolffe tcw #tcw fanfic #sw the clone wars #sw fic #sw tcw #clone x you #clone x reader #fluff

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kometqh · 3 months ago

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𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝

Viscount!Captain Rex x Maid!F!Reader Pt.1, Pt.2, Pt.3, Pt4 tbc.

Under the Viscounts' impatience, the two of you retreat to the village to solve important business matters. Throughout your journey, the Viscount reveals a side of him that no one but his brothers have had the fortune to know, and you're left stunned and wondering as a surprise guest makes an appearance upon your return. Word Count: 8,181 Warnings: Minor depictions of sexual activity, jealous, confusing Rex. A/N: This took forever to write but I wanted to focus on placing a lot of effort into this chapter, hopefully it's up to par with expectations hehe.

The greenery was a welcome distraction. Luscious, tall trees swayed in the breeze, shielding the carriage from direct sunlight and clear blue skies, lingering branches extended out, pointing the way towards the exit of the manor’s extensive stretches of land. The iron gates were tall, and as you peered out to see the tip of the spikes, you felt watched. The complete stillness and lack of life against the green forestry was like black paint on white. You’d only seen them once, a few weeks back when you had arrived for the job. They were as domineering now as they were on your first day. They were watchful, peering over and their gaze tailing you until the carriage disappeared far into the distance, hidden away beneath the greenery of the forest.

The sky was a contrastingly brilliant blue against golden wheat. Even the most skilled painter couldn’t replicate the vibrant scenery on their best canvas, or so you thought as you peered out through the carriages’ window.

Warm air clung to your skin, trailing it with thin streaks of sweat, disappearing between numerous layers of your uniform. The smell of humid country air filled the carriage, seemingly cramping the small space up more so than it already was; from the corner of your eye, you caught a glimpse of the Viscount tugging at his collar. He breathed out a heavy puff of air, frustration evident in the crease between his eyebrows and the downcast of his lips.

The ride was otherwise silent, but the constant songs of birds and the vibrating hum of the carriage aided in keeping it from being unbearable. You busied yourself with observing the scenery, noting a distant taste of smoke on the tip of your tongue.

The Viscount could surely make anyone replicate this view on a canvas at the mere snap of his fingers and a handsome payment. You were curious as to just how much it would cost one to do so.

Your eyes reflected the wondrous scenery like a mirror, which Rex found himself drawn in to, enjoying quietly observing your childlike wonder.

When he had noticed your sneaky glances, he had pretended to be annoyed, exasperated even. The carriage was stifling, and he was quick to regret his impatience to leave the manor - Mrs Opal would’ve definitely known how to keep the heat at bay, though he wasn’t regretting the chance to watch your mannerisms, as miniscule as they were around him.

He also knew Mrs Opal would not be impressed with him. She loved to make her thoughts known even when unprompted, and so Rex knew she’d make you sit quietly with your head down.

Though you did manage to hide all your thoughts behind a pretty curtain of long lashes and quick escapes from his sights. It was difficult for Rex to tell what you were thinking. You were terrified, that he knew. Yet you were also curious, attentive and careful, like an animal of prey scoping and mapping out its’ territory.

Slowly, your head turned, and your eyes met his.

The slight widening of your eyes snapped him out, and Rex threw his nose into an awfully boring article once more. His heart was racing like a galloping horse, thrilled and yet terrified. You’d just caught him staring. The Viscount. What was he doing?

The air in the carriage stilled, the silence overwhelming as you tried to make sense of the situation. Why was he staring? Did you do something you weren’t supposed to? A shiver ran down your spine.

You were so glad Mr Owens wasn’t here.

You remembered the way his watchful gaze never left your figure this morning, eyes squinted until they were but tiny slits, judging and scorching and awaiting, as if he was sure you would mess up. You knew what happened if a servant was insubordinate. Or simply made a silly mistake.

You visibly swallowed, turning your attention back to the fields. You wouldn’t slip up. You couldn’t. You weren’t even sure if punishments differed depending on the servants’ role and status, but you weren’t about to go trying to find out. Maybe they became less severe, or maybe they were completely different.

Mr Owens was nothing if not a lion waiting for you to wander into his den when it came to slipping up.

For the entire journey, the Viscount did not speak a word, and neither did you. You really had to ask Mrs Opal about the rules on interaction. Maybe this entire situation would be less awkward if the Viscount was a Viscountess.

Eventually small, spiky rooftops and chimneys began popping up in the distance like a trail of mushrooms in a fairytale. Grey smoke oozed out from a few like a steady stream, soaring into the vast sea of summery blues.

The distant rumble of village life began increasing in volume and energy, and you found yourself gaping at the people. Small children pranced around, enjoying the coolness of water from a nearby stream. Women and men were scattered around, amid various tasks, dust and grime decorating their figures. You inwardly recoiled into yourself at the thought of how difficult it would be to wash all this dirt off. Maker, were you glad you were no longer in charge of washing duty.

As you became lost in observing the village life, the carriage had come to a slow stop, and you looked around confusedly.

“We’ll carry on by foot.” The Viscount’s voice was much closer now, startling you.

He was leaning over, reaching for the door handle. His breath fanned over the tip of your nose, and his entire stature was impossibly close. Too close for comfort, you could say. Or professionalism.

“Let me open the door for you, my Lord!” Squeaking, you too reached for the handle. Your fingers slipped beneath his, taking a firm hold of it. His hand landed on yours, his warmth seeping into your skin. Your breath hitched as you slowly looked up, eyes widening as his presence was now much closer, much warmer. Close enough to-

Your eyes widened as the handle clicked and all forms of support vanished beneath you, your figure plummeting to the ground.

A burning sensation flamed all over your skin, beginning in the legs and travelling all the way to your arms. Gravel pieces dropped from your palms as you rubbed them over your skirt, wincing at the increasing pain. Shaking your head, you were about to get up, but your breath was caught in your throat.

Injuring yourself seemed to quickly become the least of your worries as your sight landed on your skirts - they were tattered and dirtied with soil and dust and whatever else littered the earth.

You’d have to wait until wash day to be able to clean them and you only had one other uniform and that hadn’t even been issued by your current employer.

Either you’d continue working in these skirts until wash day or you’d have to explain to Mrs Opal why you weren’t wearing the correct garments.

“Kriff… This is bad-” You muttered, wincing and scowling simultaneously. A series of ‘no’s’ escaped your lips, as you spotted more and more dirt and mud. What should you do? The Viscount certainly wouldn’t be pleased, walking around with a dirtied maiden in tow. Perfect. Things were going terribly wrong terribly fast.

“My apologies, my Lord, I didn’t mean to-”

“Were you hurt?” Interrupting, the Viscount reached for your hand, taking it between his own gloved ones. He turned it over, inspecting the scratched, bleeding skin. “Here, take this,” He muttered, wrapping his handkerchief around your palm. “We’ll treat it as soon as we’re back at the manor.” His brows were furrowed as he quickly looked you over. Ignoring your stupor, he moved away once he was satisfied.

“M- My Lord? I cannot accept this, I-”

“I insist.” With a firm voice and a warning look, he’d managed to silence your protests.

Your heart was slamming against your chest, like a bird trapped in a cage as you nodded, “Thank you,” you muttered, looking away as you felt your face heating up.

The Viscount gave you a small nod, releasing your hands.

“We should get going, if we do not wish to be late.”

You found yourself cemented to your spot. Confusion was painted across your features, the Viscount’s contrasting behaviour muddling over your thoughts.

Why was he so… Kind? At the manor he made sure you felt like nothing but a small speck of dust, floating just outside his vision so as not to rouse his ire. Yet now? It was as if you were watching an entirely different person.

The Viscount was already a few steps ahead of you when he looked back expectantly.

“Are you coming or not?” He questioned. Your legs moved on their own accord.

“Y- Yes, my Lord.”

-----

Getting to the boutique was straight forward. The Viscount clearly knew where he was headed to and was unwavering under curious overt looks. Your skirts felt awfully heavy under the afternoon sun, and to be honest, you felt like a sweaty dog.

Glancing over to the Viscount, a tinge of jealousy prickled your heart as he was seemingly unfazed by the heat.

The silence felt almost worse than the heat, and you found yourself tugging at the collar of your shirt for some comfort. You weren’t sure how formal you had to be when interacting with the Viscount, but his change in demeanour towards you inspired a little confidence.

“Are you not feeling warm, my Lord?” Unsurely, you glanced towards him. His cardigan was a navy blue colour, absorbing majority of the light that hit it.

“A little.”

Not talkative. Maybe he’s shy.

With a sigh, you looked back to him, “Would you like to take your cardigan off? I can carry it for you, my Lord.”

“That is not necessary.” He muttered, his throat growing dry. Rex wasn’t good at small talk. The Viscount did not engage in small talk.

You didn’t say anything else, instead opting to give a small nod. The path you took seemed to be a silent one, and the village felt more like a ghost town. Everyone was busy. Everyone was out and about in the fields and the farms and the barns, doing their fair share.

The boutique was situated in the town centre, alongside all the other shops. A market was also set up in the town square, but that wasn’t very busy on a mid-week afternoon.

A few lonesome figures were scattered here and there, but the silence was palpable. Your pace slowed as uncertainty clouded your thoughts - you weren’t sure which shop exactly was the boutique.

The manor life was too busy for a maid like you to be going out every now and then, and even in the few spare moments you had, you’d been too exhausted to go sight-seeing.

Luckily, you had the Viscount with you and you trailed after him like a timid pet dog.

Different shops and huts adorned the place, ranging from tall to small, providing different services. A butcher shop here, a tailor shop there. You’d assumed that’s where Mrs Opal went to have the Viscount’s suits fixed.

A quaint flower shop rested in between the bustle of the food market and the many homes scattered around, and you found yourself drawn in. Ruby roses and honey-coloured tulips were neatly decorating the outside of the shop, a chalkboard sign sitting outside, naming all sorts of flowers and their prices. A beautiful arch adorned the door, silky white gypsophila’s and other sorts of carnations growing around it, soaking in the hot sunlight.

A young woman could be seen trimming stems from the cover of an arched window, a faint smile situated on her lips. Two braids rested on her shoulders, and freckles painted the apples of her cheeks and the bridge of her nose. She looked lovingly at her flowers, faintly feeling the petals of a sunflower against the pads of her fingers.

The sight brought up a smile of your own and her gaze suddenly caught yours. Your breath hitched, cheeks tinting red as she waved at you.

Embarrassed, you turned away to hide the fact you’d been caught staring, but your face was met with a brick wall. Your nose quashed itself into the Viscount’s shoulder blades, your fingers scraping the material of his white button-up shirt. When had his cardigan come off?

“Everything okay?” The Viscount asked, surprised at the sudden impact.

“Y- Yes, my Lord! My apologies.” You quickly stuttered out, looking up with bright red cheeks.

Maybe it was the glaze of embarrassment or the heat exhaustion, but you swore you noticed the corner of the Viscount’s lips turning up. Was he smiling? Did he find it funny? You shook your head as you made your way beside him, holding your arms out for his cardigan, only to be promptly ignored.

You took one last look at the flower shop, noticing that the girl had disappeared from view, her sunflowers laying limply on the cash counter.

The front of the boutique seemed to be nothing if not simple. A foamy green door, a wide window showing off two floral dresses and a suit. A bell chimed as the Viscount pried the door open, his arm extending and body flattening to the side as he uttered an, ‘After you’.

With a soft thank you, you took a step into the small shop.

The inside was much more colourful compared to the outside. Colourful fabrics ranging from the deepest of violets to the faintest of yellows decorated the walls. Silks and frills and bows hung from the ceiling and carefully crafted pieces and glinting jewellery littered every corner of the room. Off to the side was a curtain and a space where a door should be but wasn’t. A fitting room, perhaps.

As you looked away from the onslaught of colour and sparkle, you noticed a woman, possibly in her mid-forties. Her frilly hair was pinned in place atop her head and her eyes looked bored and disinterested in the arrival of new customers. She had a cigar clasped between two fingers, a newspaper in the other, thin-rimmed glasses atop her pointed nose and a dress that resembled nightwear. She’d barely even glanced up.

The Viscount cleared his throat.

With a loud sigh, the lady made her mood crystal clear; completely and utterly disinterested.

“What services may I offer you today, my Lord?” Her voice was nasally, her words sharp and concise with every syllable that left her lips. It clawed at your back in shivers like a cat’s talons on a curtain.

The Viscount was indifferent to her tone, a small smile present on his lips. “I’d like to order four new dresses for this young lady.” He motioned to you.

“Four?”

“Yes, four.”

“Anything else?”

With a hum, he paced around the shop, observing the sea of colour, a gloved hand reaching out for something. A navy-blue, silky fabric. “Yes… The colour. I’d like for it to be blue and white.”

The lady lowered her glasses, thin eyebrows raised as she eyed the fabric. Her interested had been piqued.

“Silk? I hope you’re aware the price for is quite… Hefty.” She set down her pamphlet, rubbing a thumb and forefinger together.

Panic was evident in your eyes as you looked between the two, protests lingered on the tip of your tongue, and you turned to the Viscount, “My Lord, are you sure? That is much too expensive for a dress designated to a lowly servant like me-”

“I’ve come prepared today.” The Viscount didn’t spare you a glance as he answered the seamstress, a confident smile on his face.

With a curt nod, she made her way over, pulling the roll of fabric from its spot on the shelf, before sauntering away towards a pearly white one. She returned to her desk, fishing out some measuring tape and safety pins.

With a flick of her hand, she had the two of you following her into the back room and with a push on your shoulders, she had you discarding your skirts and cardigan, but not before pushing the Viscount out. The curtains were drawn with a soft whack, allowing you some privacy.

She took different measurements, manoeuvring you like a rag doll, matching different shades of blue and white to your body in differing patterns and shapes.

“He wants these done within a week… Absolute lunatic!” She muttered to herself, dismayed at the Viscount’s request, before shoving the fabric into your chest. “Hold this, I’ll be back in a jiffy.”

She opened the curtains with a flap, her figure disappearing behind.

You looked into the mirror, holding the silk up, admiring the smoothness of it beneath your fingers. You’d only seen such beauty from afar, worn by all kinds of men and women of status. You never imagined that one day you would be the one to hold it.

The sound of your name being called snapped you out. The Viscount.

A hand gripped the curtain. Your heart dropped as the Viscount was about to open it. Your hands flew to keep it closed; a breath caught in your throat as you held it with a death grip. Just because you were a servant it did not mean you wanted to show yourself off to everyone within your vicinity.

“Yes my Lord?” Squeaking out, you peered your head out, covering the rest of your body below the neckline.

The Viscount looked you up and down, a confused quirk in his brow.

He didn’t know what he was thinking. Rex was used to being around the ladies from the inn, having grown comfortable with their ease in their nudity around him. A faint blush dusted his cheeks as he was met with your panicked, bewildered eyes. The shop wasn’t well lit, only a weak ray of light illuminating the changing room. Rex hoped you didn’t pick up on his own reddening face.

Clearing his throat, he tried to scramble up a response.

“Are the fabrics to your liking?”

Perfect. You’re a Viscount for a reason, Rex.

Throwing a glance at the fabrics pooled around your feet, you gave the Viscount a small nod. “Y- Yes, I’m waiting for Ms Isabel to return. She took my measurements and took off.” You breathed out, giving a tight-lipped smile.

He returned a small nod, praying to the gods for you not to realise the state he was in.

“I’ll be just around the corner then, shout if you need saving.” Promptly, he turned around, rubbing his face exasperatedly once he was out of your sight.

What was he doing? You weren’t some woman he’d be spending the night with. You were one of his maids. He was here to buy you some dresses to have you looking presentable at balls, to ensure his status as a Viscount wouldn’t be questioned.

At least he’d managed to keep his composure, to cover up for his lack of consideration. He had only wanted to see you, as he found himself growing comfortable in your presence at an alarming rate.

That would need to be sorted out later.

Taking a seat in the front of the shop, he watched as Ms Isabel hurriedly returned, the sounds of curtains being pried open and a squeak tumbling out from the back, followed by her gruff voice.

“Give me that fabric, girl.”

------------------------------------------

“Why are we walking, my Lord? Don’t you have urgent business to attend to?”

The Viscount was a few steps ahead of you, as you both had silently agreed on it being inappropriate for you to walk beside him. Maybe if you were Mr Owens, his personal butler, then it’d be deemed appropriate.

“Ms Isabel was done earlier than I expected, so I wished to walk instead.”

With furrowed eyebrows and your focus centred on not tripping in the tall grass, you failed to notice the small glance he’d thrown at you.

“I’m sure you can promenade in the gardens, my Lord. I do not wish to be rude or imposing, but this is much too difficult for a maid like me, my skirts are too heavy and too long.” You pointed out, nodding at the different branches and tangles that threatened to trip you up.

The Viscount paused in his steps, turning abruptly to face you.

“Would you like some help with that?” He pointed to your fists that were clenched tightly around your skirt.

“May I ask how exactly do you plan on helping me, my Lord?”

“Well, if it isn’t obvious, I can hold one side whilst you hold the other.” With a shrug of his shoulders, he extended a hand out. You looked to him as though he was the silliest looking animal on the whole of Naboo.

You blinked a few times, attempting to come up with some sort of response or even acknowledgement of his words.

“You cannot possibly be serious, my Lord. I apologise, I did not mean to sound so… Whiny.” You quickly backed away a step, anxious at the thought of how the Viscount had interpreted your words. Sure, you’d love to accept his help, but you didn’t think a noble should be aiding you in keeping your skirts above ground. You didn’t think you were allowed to even request this kind of aid.

The Viscount sighed heavily as he took another step forward, his face expressionless as he lifted one side of your dress.

“M- My Lord! I do not require your assistance, I insist!”

“The more you protest the longer it’ll take us to return to the manor.” Was all he said as he motioned towards the seemingly small building in the distance. “Now let’s go, if we want to get back in time for tea.”

Plush green trees fenced the wheat fields from the village to the hill on which the road to the manor began, they swayed in the wind and occasionally parted to provide a small derailing trail deeper into the forest. You noticed that this wasn’t the road you’d taken in the carriage, but you recognised this view whenever you’d seen it whilst cleaning the windows facing the south, or when you’d found yourself doing chores in the gardens. The trees and brush came to a round stop as you eventually neared one end of the field, and the Viscount had to urge you forwards as you came to a slow stop, wondering whether the two of you were really heading in the right direction.

The two of you headed straight on through a semi-thick wall of trees, your eyes watchful for any outstanding roots and fallen branches that could be seen as hazardous. If your skirts caught on any of it, you were sure they would rip.

The Viscount had carried onwards, ahead of you at your request, once you were clear of vision-blocking wheat plants. This had left you to fall behind, as you had struggled more to climb over brush and twigs. You called out to him, concerned when the trees didn’t clear up fast enough, but the Viscount only called back, “Follow me, we’re almost there,” and took on a quicker pace through the forestry.

Your heart pumped blood at a more anxious pace as the Viscounts’ figure started to slowly slip from your vision, yet your worries were eased as you caught up to him, raising a questioning brow at why he had come to a stop.

“My Lord?” You asked, stepping over a particularly large branch before looking up.

You came to a sudden stop as the Viscount gripped your arm, pulling your body back. “Careful there,” he said, pointing at the sudden dip in the path.

Breathless and confused, you look towards the meadow ahead, stunned and speechless. The trees had cleared up, a meadow lay ahead of you with countless flowers spread far and wide, glinting in the sunlight with hues of deep purples and ruby reds, creating a trail that led a clear path towards the gardens of the manor.

“What the…?” You glanced to the Viscount, mouth gaping wide open, heart fluttering at the softness of his smile and the mellowness in his eyes. Slowly, he turned to face you, that smile still ever so present, “Pretty, isn’t it?” he asked, nodding towards the meadow.

With a small nod, you could see that it only led upwards from there on, and exhaustion suddenly seemed to tug at your limbs more prominently now.

“Indeed, though I’ve never been here before,” You said, observing how a brook flowed downwards somewhere to the far right, away from the fields you’d just emerged from. Yellow buttercups and bluebells lined the edges of the water, taking sips and twinkling under the setting afternoon sun. “It’s certainly pretty enough of a place for a picnic, my Lord.” You suggested, beginning to step down the gradual slope below you. A few tree roots stuck out from the earth, acting as nature’s steps. The Viscount was quick to follow, reaching equal ground sooner than you before he reached out, offering for you to take his hand.

Quietly you thanked him and sauntered towards the brook, grasping your skirts and leaning over the edge to see what could be hiding within the water, a smile blooming on your face as you noticed tadpoles swimming close to the earth.

“Tadpoles?” The Viscount questioned beside you, crouching down to poke at the water.

“I believe so, it’s about time for them to hatch,” You replied, watching as the little creatures swam in flurries away from the Viscounts’ hand. “You’re scaring them, my Lord.” You pointed out, observing the side of his face.

“I don’t believe I’m causing them any harm.”

“For all we know, they might think you’re a stork. Heart attacks in tadpoles are a matter not to be laughed at, my Lord.”

The Viscount laughed anyway. “I’m not sure I resemble a stork all that much, cyar’ika,” The nickname slipped out, Rex felt panic curse through him but quickly realised you didn’t hear it, or understand it.

“To them you might,” You mused, having crouched down as well before you dipped your own hand in the water, “If I was a creature that tiny, anything would resemble harm and danger to me.”

The Viscount said nothing as he turned to you, watching the peaceful expression on your face. He’d never imagined that the two of you would be spending your time together like this; as if you were a pair of close friends. The two of you should’ve resumed your journey long ago, but he was content to just sit there with you, enjoying the peaceful beauty of mother nature. Majority of the women in his life were either mother figures to him or single ladies looking to marry, or desiring intimacy, but you were neither. You were a maid who had the misfortunate of catching him red-handed with a woman he wasn’t married to, so really he was only making sure you kept your lips sealed.

You behaved differently to every other maid he met. You were hesitant and clumsy. You preferred to stay further away from unfamiliar things, people, yet you were insistent on interacting with him.

He watched as you dropped a pebble into the brook, silently observing as it drowned to the bottom, settling amongst other stones. “Shall we continue?”

“Continue? Continue what?”

You smiled, glancing at the Viscount, “Continue walking, my Lord. The sun is setting,” you pointed out, motioning to the sky.

The Viscount followed your train of thought, realising just how low the sun had set, barely peaking over the treetops and brush.

“Let’s continue.” He rose from his crouched position, offering you a helpful hand.

“Will your skirts be okay?”

“Sorry?”

“Your skirts. There’s some dust and mud on them. I’m asking whether you’re fine with that.” He explained, noticing that mud from the brook had overlapped with the dirt you had fallen into earlier that day.

“I’ll have to wait until wash day.”

“Wash day?”

“Yes, my Lord. That’s when we wash all the garments of all the personnel and nobles in the mansion.”

“And when is that?”

You pursed your lips, looking over the filth your dress has become. “End of next week, my Lord.”

“You can’t possibly wait that long.” He said, concern painted across his features.

“I have no spare uniform, my Lord. This’ll have to do.” You shrugged, beckoning him to start heading towards the mansion once again. Taking a few steps forward, you didn’t get far as the Viscount took a gentle hold of your bicep. Frozen, the two of you stared at one another, your gut twisting with a strange, foreign feeling. You didn’t like the look he was giving you. Was it pity? Was it guilt? You felt naked under his gaze, squirming as he studied your reactions. The corners of his eyes seemed to be downcast, reflecting the faint frown on his lips. He was making you uneasy under the weight of his stare, “What is it, my Lord?” you breathed out, unable to take the silence or the staring any longer.

“I’m sorry,” He said, before clearing his throat, turning away to look at the manor, “I’ll have a uniform issued to your quarters by tomorrow morning.” He added, before following an invisible path leading further up the meadow.

Following in tow, the Viscount left no room for discussion, and left you to bubble in your confusion in silence.

The path up to the manor stretched out for what felt like hours as the Viscount did not utter another word to you for the rest of your walk, his mood having plummeted for a reason unknown to you.

There were long shadows casted on the face of the manor as you and the Viscount walked along the gardens, watching as one by one, the windows lit up under some candlelight.

He had remained silent for majority of the walk back, only gracing you with one word responses and grunts to every conversation starter you threw his way. Eventually you gave up, settling on walking in silence and admiring the beautiful evening.

You could see a figure waiting in the distance, arms on their hips and a foot aggressively tapping the stone steps below them. “Where have you been?” Mrs Opals’ voice rung out across the stretch of grass as she quickly made her way towards the two of you, an unpleasant scowl growing on her face.

She had stopped just a few metres away, waiting for you. You glanced towards the Viscount, who was unfazed by Mrs Opal’s clear display of displeasure.

“We went to the village, had the girl fitted and made our way back,” he said, “Why do you ask?”

“You were gone for hours, I was starting to worry that you got lost, perhaps,” Mrs Opal said sternly, leading the way into the manor, “Nevermind the fact that you left me without saying a word!” She exclaimed, shaking her head in disbelief. The three of you rounded the building to avoid walking through the kitchens, and were now entering the lit up entrance hall of the manor. Around you, the candlelight flickered and burned and kept the hallways bright, creating a warm orange glow and mixing with the royal red carpets that lined the grand staircase and disappeared into the shadows of the lower grounds of the manor.

“You have an unexpected guest, my Lord,” Mrs Opal paused as she led the two of you to the lounge, where presumably the guest was residing. The Viscount took a sharp breath, as if to cut her off but she beat him to it, “I know, you said no visitors, however this is someone whom I couldn’t deny entry. He’s had a long journey and insisted on waiting for your return, sir.”

“Who is it?” The Viscount inquired curiously, his eyes thinning into slits as he stared the older woman down.

Mrs Opal cleared her throat, adjusting the collar of her dress nervously, “You’ll be happy to know that it’s someone familiar,” she said, glancing back, “It’s your brother, Lord Fives.”

You observed the Viscount’s behaviour, noticing how his shoulders instantly relaxed at the mention of the name. You guessed the Viscount preferred this brother over Lord Wolffe, who made it his mission to intimidate every servant in the manor. Maybe this brother would be kinder, more welcoming than the two Lords who inhabit this place.

“Fives?” The Viscount asked, his voice a gruff whisper, “He’s arrived early.”

“Maybe he was excited to see you, my Lord.” You mused, glancing over at him as you reached the lounge room. The dark brown doors were closed, and you had to help Mrs Opal open them as they were too heavy.

As the doors opened, you were greeted with a comfortable silence. The room was rather small, resembling a private study more so than a lounge. It was cozy room, decorated with deep red carpets and curtains, it had a high ceiling and a large fireplace that emanated heat and sparks and comfort the closer you moved to it.

Candles littered the room all around, however none were lit up, you assumed that the fireplace provided enough light to the room. As you looked around the room, you noticed a bar cart in a far away corner, with a few glass bottles and glasses lining it in a neat row. Whiskey. A bookshelf lined the opposite wall, filled to the brim though you spotted an empty slot. Returning to the middle room, you counted a few armchairs, which sat around the fireplace in a half-circle, and as your sights finally landed on the rooms’ only occupant, you paused, realising the missing book was in his hand.

The book had a red cover, with neat golden letters decorating it. The beholder was wearing a white button-up shirt, with high-waisted trousers, and a cardigan lay to the side of him. His hair was an ebony black, cut precisely to tame his curls and goatee. His entire build was large, but what piqued your interest were his shoulders; they were broad and heavy-looking, and you caught yourself wondering what they’d be like to touch. Not only that, but his side profile was certainly a welcome sight-

“Brother! What a pleasure to finally see you!” Rex exclaimed as he walked towards Fives, his arms outstretched to welcome the latter in a hug. His sudden outburst startled you, ripping your focus away from admiring all things about the Lord. They tightly embraced one another, wide smiles adorning their faces as they laughed, and once again, you found yourself inwardly swooning.

“I’ll admit it’s been a while, Rex. It’s good to be back,” Fives said as the two parted. “I thought I’d stop by, afterall we are going to the same ball.”

“Well I’m glad you’re here, if I had known we would’ve come back earlier,” The Viscount said, walking over to the bar cart, “Have you spoken to Wolffe already, then?” Pouring himself a glass, the Viscount tipped the glass in the Lords’ direction, to which the latter proceeded to nod.

“There was no need for you to hurry, brother, I believe I’ll be staying a while,” Lord Fives watched as the Viscount poured a second glass, murmuring a small ‘thank you’ as the two sat down together, “Echo will be joining us at the ball as he had some business to take care of back in the Capital,” He paused, taking a sip of his drink. Waiting for a moment, the Lord hummed in approval as the alcohol left a burning trail down his throat, “I haven’t seen Wolffe yet, no, Mrs Opal said he was out.”

With that, he motioned to the older woman, a toothy smile on his face.

His sights landed on you and he quirked a brow at the Viscount.

“And who’s the other lady?”

The Viscount’s gaze was intimidating as he savoured his drink, “That’s my new maid,” He gestured towards you, looking between you and Lord Fives with a glint of confusion in his eyes, “She’ll be accompanying me to the ball.”

“To the ball?” Fives raised a brow at that.

“Indeed. It isn’t good for Mrs Opal to stand around for too long, ever since her knees worsened, and, to be frank, my new maid is a capable one.” For a second, you felt your heart leap into your throat as the Viscount’s compliment registered.

Lord Fives looked back at you, his eyes roaming over your figure, studying you. You felt timid under his gaze, fighting the urge to shrink into a corner of the room.

“Ladies, would you care to join us?” He asked suddenly, and you heard the Viscount choke on his drink at the suggestion. Looking nervously to Mrs Opal, you tried your best to remain looking relaxed.

If you were to be honest, the new Lord seemed to have a certain effect on you, but what that effect was you weren’t quite so sure yet.

“That’s kind of you, my Lord,” Mrs Opal answered, a small smile dancing across her lips as she motioned for you to follow her. The two of you took a seat on the sofa, your figure remaining close to hers. You felt watched as you fixed your skirt, ensuring that none of the mud would be touching the material beneath you.

“So, how new are you then, cyar’ika?” Lord Fives asked, tilting his head slightly. He rested his elbows on his knees, swirling the whiskey absentmindedly.

You glanced at the Viscount and Mrs Opal, unsure whether you were permitted to reveal all the details.

The Viscount gave you a small nod, and your heart thrummed under his intense stare.

“It’s been a couple of weeks now, my Lord. My duty isn’t as important as Mrs Opals’, however I do feel grateful for the opportunity to work closely with the Viscount.” You muttered out, looking up at him. His his eyes widened the tiniest bit upon hearing you.

Humming in response, he took a long second to study you. His gaze trailed from the top of your head, down to the dark blush which settled on your cheeks, to your dirtied dress. Though he didn’t question it, you still felt slight embarrassment over not having the time to put on something different – oh well, it couldn’t be helped now.

“How come the Viscount chose you?”

Blinking in surprise, you tried to scour your brain for explanations. The true reason was something the Viscount wished to keep a secret, you were too fearful of what would happen if you were to reveal it.

You opened your mouth, ready to reply with some lame excuse, but the velvety thrum that was the Viscount’s voice interrupted you.

“I’ve noticed her a while ago, working in the gardens on a hot day. She was dusting the carpets and took a break and picked up a fallen rose from the ground, I watched her walk around with it in her hair the entire day,” The Viscount hummed, staring down at the almost empty glass in his hand, “I guess something about her intrigued me.”

To say that you were speechless was an understatement. You remembered that day as clear as words on a page, but you never realised that the Viscount had ever noticed you up until recently. How many times had he caught you acting like a fool? Prancing around with flowers in your head and snacks in your hands at odd hours of the night?

You couldn’t control the wildfire that spread across your face, nor the fastening of your heartbeat, nor the way your mouth was left agape as you focused on the Viscount.

Lord Fives looked between the two of you. He was analysing the stunned expression on your face, his brows lightly furrowed as he compared it to the Viscount’s. Something didn’t feel right, but Fives knew when not to push a certain topic. He wouldn’t, at least not yet. Something in his gut told him Mrs Opal hadn’t been involved in the recruitment process.

“Actually, my apologies, could I be excused please? I’d like to wash up before bed, and I believe it’ll be better for the three of you to catch up without my intrusion, my Lord.” You spoke, aware that your request might’ve been made at an inappropriate time.

Fives quirked a brow at you before turning to the Viscount, who only gave a small nod in response.

Fives turned back to you, a soft smile on his face, “I see no issue with that,” He paused, finding the look on your face sweet, “However you owe me a promenade tomorrow. Deal?”

You blinked up at him, mouth slightly agape as his question took you by surprise.

“I- I’m not sure… I’ll be with the Viscount and-”

“That’s okay, I have a meeting to attend in the afternoon and you won’t need to accompany me, so you may consider it a day off,” Rex spoke up, eager to end the interaction between you and Fives. He could already tell his brother fancied you, and smelled out the partial bullshit in your recruitment story, but Rex could tell you were feeling lost and uncomfortable. Fives could have you all to himself tomorrow, even if that didn’t sit right with Rex.

“I see. Well, thank you for your time, I will see you tomorrow, my Lord,” You looked to Lord Fives, throwing on a tight-lipped smile, “Have a good night, sir.” You bid your goodbyes quickly, bowing slightly towards the two Lords, murmuring a quick goodbye to Mrs Opal as you left.

Rex watched the entire interaction, his stomach churning at the faint blush present on your face. He couldn’t understand what had you blushing and stuttering when it came to his brother, but Rex slowly began regretting his decision as he watched you quietly slip away under Fives’ watchful gaze.

Rex swallowed thickly as his brother turned to face them, and the small smirk on his face did not go unnoticed.

“So, where were we?”

----------

The sun had disappeared behind the horizon, leaving behind traces of a warm breeze and running thoughts. You sat by your open window, observing the way the stars were dotted all over a canvas of dark purples and blues and black shadows. The moon had disappeared off to somewhere, stranding the manor in a gloomy darkness. Orange lamps decorated the exterior gates, which stretched far and wide around the manor, but the light didn’t dare to enter the gardens. You leaned your arms against the windowsill, sighing heavily. It had been a tiring day, and every so often you felt your body being lulled into sleep under the beauty of the night.

Your sleepy eyes trailed from left to right, admiring the beautiful rows of hedges of baby pink roses, which stood out against the pitch black like a reflection of the stars in a lake. A reoccurring blush settled on your face each time you thought back on the Viscount’s words.

A gardener would come every morning to tend to the flowers, ensuring they were kept at their best, cutting away pieces that had died. It was a pity, but at the end of the day, you always found yourself picking up the leftover flowers he had forgotten to throw away, hiding them away in your quarters to admire later on. That’s how the Viscount caught you playing around like a little girl.

Further on in the distance, across fields of pitch black nothingness, you could faintly spot the flickering, diminishing lights of the village. You assumed not many people stayed up for long after nightfall, as only a few scattered glimpses of light illuminated the night. From the comfort of your bedroom, the village resembled something out of a fairy tale. If you squinted hard enough, you could imagine a trail of fairy lights dancing around the borders of the village, keeping it safe and protected, with the darkness keeping it hidden away from dangerous creatures and visitors, allowing the magical fairies to live happily in their mushroom huts and treehouses, to continue their peaceful existence amongst the darkness of the forestry. You’d always imagined such a world, wishing that one day you’d walk through a tall wall of rose orchards, expecting to see nothing out of the ordinary, but instead being taken to a land of fairytales and love stories.

You sighed out again, hiding your face away in your arms, as the warm embrace of sleep lulled you further into an unconscious state. You intended to get some shut eye but only for a moment, just long enough to gather some semblance of strength to drag yourself into bed.

However, the moment turned into a few, within which you drifted in and out of sleep, floating in a deep sea of darkness, like a small boat drifting somewhere far away, somewhere far in the middle of the ocean.

When you opened your eyes again, it was completely dark. Only the moonlight illuminated the landscape. A strong gust of wind blew past you, eliciting goosebumps all over your skin. You felt confused, woozy. Still sleep-drunk as you looked at your surroundings. How long ago had you fallen asleep?

Something was different. Off.

Shakily, you gripped the windowsill and stood up. You waited for a long moment, head hanging low as you waited for the room to stop spinning. There was a dull ache in your shoulders, and you cursed yourself for falling asleep anywhere but in your bed.

Finally you moved, looking out at the gardens once again. Your body felt stiff and tense, your blood pumping in your ears a tad too hard, a tad too loud. Your eyes scanned the rose hedges, looking for something within the darkness. Something that would validate your gut feeling. But there was nothing.

And with a sigh, you climbed on the windowsill, reaching for the handle. The breeze was too cold for you to leave the window open overnight.

Just as your hand gripped the handle, you heard it. A noise.

For a single moment, you were paralysed with utter, blood-chilling fear, convinced there was a beast hidden within the shadows.

You whipped your head back and forth, eyes wide open, body on full alert. Could it be a coyote? An escaped bull? No. Not around these parts of the countryside. The village was too far, the farms even further.

You shook your head, inhaling a deep breath of fresh air before sliding the window slightly shut, leaving a few inches open. It was about to be summer, and the nights were getting warmer, so your room would be steaming in the morning. You moved away as you didn’t wish to stay up any longer, especially since you had to be up bright and early. Your back would be awfully sore in the morning, and you were already dreading it.

It was just before your body touched the mattress when you heard another noise. It was much closer this time, though, and much louder.

Ripping your body away from the bed, you moved immediately towards the window.

If there was a coyote, the guards needed to be made aware-

Something was moving. Something in your reflection moved, yet you didn’t. It was strange, an instant sense of fear so powerful it froze your body to where you stood. You could only move your eyes, the rest of you solid like a statue. You watched, waiting for something. Some kind of movement, or yet another wail.

That’s when you saw it.

Two figures, pressed against the gates of the back gardens. Moving animatedly, hidden away by the confines of darkness. They were dressed simply, as simply as possible to be able to do what they were doing-

The noises had now become clearer, and you were able to discern them as moans and whines, and you realised that they did indeed sound like a wild beast. Maker how fast were they going at it?

You opened your window quietly, leaning over the windowsill again. You squinted your eyes as hard as you could, trying to discern the faces of the people. They weren’t exactly the best at being discreet, and they did rise your ire.

A faint blush dusted over your cheeks as you realised you were essentially being a peeping Tom. But you weren’t doing anything weird. They weren’t being discreet, and you just wanted to tell them to knock it off. To have a little bit of shame.

Realisation struck your sleep-hazed mind like a chord.

It wasn’t just a pair of random servants going at it like banshees in the cover of the dark. No.

Something prickly, something ugly twisted at your gut as the realisation dawned in on you, cruelly sobering you up.

It was the Viscount.

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winniethewife · 10 months ago

Text

Are you with me? (Commander Wolffe x F!Reader)

Gif by @starwarscolors

Words: 1135

Warnings: Mild Spoilers for The Bad Batch season 3.

Wolffe paced the room a few times. He couldn’t get the idea out of his head. Rex was alive, he was fighting against the empire, and so were other clones. He hadn’t even considered it. Rex’s voice echoed in his mind. “As your brother, I'm asking you to do the right thing.”

What is the right thing? The right thing…He needed to get out, he needs to leave. He starts to look around, fearful for a second as if someone could read his mind, but there was no one else in sight. Wolffe sighed, he knew he needed to leave, but he knew he couldn’t yet, not without her. He had to find her, convince her to leave with him. If he asked, she would go…Right? He needed to know.

He made his way to her sector of the base. Hoping he would be able to pull her aside. He thought about how they had met, when she was working with the republic as a intelligence officer, she had intercepted separatist transmissions and decoded them, but now that she worked for the empire she was practically s secretary, but working for the empire was the only way they could stay close, so she had continued the work. He thinks about the long nights they used to talk for hours about life after the war, this was not at all what they had imagined. There was no home in a nice town on her home planet, there were no small feet pattering around. How had he lost sight of those things so quickly? As he approached her desk he couldn’t help but feel the reality of their lives crashing down on him. The way she looked, the light in her eyes had faded away. The way she didn’t look out the window day dreaming as he walked up to her, she was focused on the data pad in front of her. He cleared his throat and she looked up, a slight smile on her face.

“Commander, how can I help you?” Her professional tone sounded wrong to him. Wolffe was beginning to realize how wrong it all was.

“Can we talk? Alone.” He said with urgency, her brow furrowed and she stood from her desk to follow him. He walked with her at a brisk pace to an alcove where he hoped they wouldn’t be noticed. He grabs her waist and pulls her into a close embrace. She gasps, this was unexpected, as they had not been very close as of late, since joining the empire, before she could ask what was happening she felt the cold wall on her back and his hot breath on her ear as he whispered to her. “I’m getting us out of here. I am so sorry I didn’t see it sooner, how wrong this is, how unhappy you are here. You deserve better, you deserve the best in the galaxy and you aren’t going to find that here, I realize this now. Cyar’ika, I’m…I’m so sorry.” He feels like these word are barely enough. Her heart flutters, this is exactly what she had dreamed of, but had given up on long ago. She leans in gently to kiss his cheek and whisper back.

“Let’s run, run far and fast away from all this, we’ll run so fast and far they’ll never see it coming.” She looks into his eyes, and he sees just the beginnings of a glimmer of the light that he had loved so much. He smiles at her, laughing softly.

“You know there’s no looking back, after this, are you sure?’ He asked as he reaches to gently caress her face.

“I’ve never been so sure of anything, just you and me. No one to stop us or tell us what to do.” She lets her face rest in his hand, gazing wistfully at him. He knew then for sure, that this was the only way to go. It was the two of them, and no one else. He pressed his lips to hers, feverishly needing that moment of closeness, the taste of her on his lips. It gave him the courage, his path seemed more clear than it had in a very long time. Wolffe knew just who to call. The face that had been haunting him, His brother. It was time to do the right thing. As he pulled away from the kiss he locked eyes with her for a moment before releasing her from his grasp. He took a step away, she straightened herself.

“Wait for my signal, and we’ll run.” He says softly. As he starts to walk away he looks back over his shoulder to see her smiling at him. She shakes her head.

“Don’t look back, Don't ever look back.” She says firmly.

After that day they never did. Rex was more than happy to arrange transport to get the both of them out of there. It was all going to plan, his hand wrapped around hers as they made it through the forest, trying to make it to the rendezvous point before they were noticed. Wolffe felt like his heart wouldn’t settle. Every mission, every success, every failure, it all came down to this. His nerves sky rocketed as he heard as sound far behind them, he didn’t look back, just held her hand tighter as they moved even faster through the trees. The darkness of the night covered their escape, their only hope to get away. She held his hand tightly as they took the unfamiliar path to the cliffside. She felt her heart in her throat as she could see the trees thin out ahead, they were almost there. Almost free. Just as the rocky ridge came into view so did a ship, and a familiar figure, in the darkness they were almost impossible to see, but Wolffe knew.

“Rex, thank the maker.” Wolffe said relived as they walked up to him. Rex threw his arms around the two of them for a brief moment before ushering them onto the shuttle. As they sat down and the ship flew out of view of the imperial base a sense of relief washed over them.

“Its good to see you both, especially given the last time we saw each other.” Rex chuckled. He looked at Wolffe. “I’m glad to see you found the right path.”

“I wouldn’t have without you, something I’m sure we’re both thankful for” He says wrapping his arm around her. She leaned into him as the two brothers continued to talk, for the first time, in a long time, they were together, and they were safe. As she started to drift to sleep she felt Wolffe pull her in closer and kiss the top of her head.

“Just You and Me, from here on out.”

Masterlist

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sinfulsalutations · 2 years ago

Note

What do you think each of your favorite clones’ guilty pleasure is? SFW and NSFW? 🤣

𝕘𝕦𝕚𝕝𝕥𝕪 𝕡𝕝𝕖𝕒𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕖𝕤 ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕔𝕒𝕡𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟 𝕣𝕖𝕩 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕦𝕡 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕔𝕣𝕠𝕤𝕤𝕙𝕒𝕚𝕣 + 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕥𝕖𝕔𝕙 + 𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕝𝕗𝕗𝕖

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ʀᴇx, ᴛᴜᴘ, ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱʜᴀɪʀ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ, ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ x ɢɴ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ꜱᴘɪᴄʏ ꜱᴛᴜꜰꜰ, ᴛᴀʟᴋ ᴏꜰ ꜱᴍᴜᴛ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱᴇx

⋆ ★ ᴏʜ, ᴍʏ ꜰᴀᴠᴏʀɪᴛᴇ ᴄʟᴏɴᴇꜱ? ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ʀɪᴅɪᴄᴜʟᴏᴜꜱʟʏ ʜᴀʀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘɪᴄᴋ… ᴀʟʀɪɢʜᴛ, ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ, ɪ’ʟʟ ɢᴏ ᴡɪᴛʜ ʀᴇx, ᴛᴜᴘ, ᴄʀᴏꜱꜱʜᴀɪʀ, ᴛᴇᴄʜ, ᴀɴᴅ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ!

➼ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰɪᴄ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴀɪɴꜱ ɴꜱꜰᴡ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ. ɪꜰ ʏᴏᴜ ᴀʀᴇ ɴᴏᴛ 18+ ᴅɴɪ

Rex

SFW: Likes to be bathed or taken care of in the bath. While it doesn’t happen often, he loves it when you sit on his lap and scrub off the dirt on his skin, slowly massage soap onto his scalp and soothe him. Rex is not used to being taken care of or sitting back and just allowing things to happen without at least a little control, so it’s hard for him personally to come to terms with just how much he likes it, as well as even indulge himself too much when he gets the chance too.

NSFW: He wanted to record you two going at it to watch while he’s away for some time. You’d already sent him photos of yourself, domestic videos of you doing simple tasks, but none very vulgar. Now that he does have that recording, he watches it so damn much. One of his favorite ways to wind down after a hard day. Not that he’ll really admit it…

Tup

SFW: This boy LOVES self-care days. If he has the chance, he’ll beg to do one. Paint each other's nails, wear face masks, braid hair in intricate patterns, moisturize, he lives for it. It's just an excellent way of doing the little things to keep his spirits up, expressing his own self-worth, and showing how much you’re worth it. As well as just having some sweet bonding time with his cyare.

NSFW: Loves receiving a lot. He doesn't really ask for it necessarily, and don't get me wrong, making you buck into his face and gasp from all the pleasure he's giving you is still one of his favorite things to do. He just also really enjoys sitting back and watching the person he loves on their knees, doing their utmost to please him and make him feel good. Also, Maker have you perfected it. The moment he sees you slowly sink down he's already anticipating the filthy noises that will leave his mouth.

Crosshair

SFW: MASSIVE sweet tooth. It's his guilty pleasure for a few reasons. Firstly, well, it's unhealthy of course. They also don't get those kinds of pleasures or indulgences as a soldier. But if he gets a chance? He's gonna munch on some sour candy like a child on Halloween. It's a pretty interesting, delightful sight.

NSFW: Crosshair really, really likes it when you ride him. You rarely do it, mostly because he just can't give up that much control to you, albeit anyone, but on the rare occasions he allows it, Maker he comes so fast. You look so damn sexy on top of him, commanding his movements and taking pleasure for yourself equally without his say being a large contributor. For once, he's not in control, he's in your hands and so vulnerable and desperate... it rubs the strangest parts of his mind.

Tech

SFW: This feels a little obvious, but sleeping late. Tech knows it's bad for him, but he just gets so much work done! His brothers aren't up distracting or pestering him, he can be left to his own devices to stray from the task at hand and deviate to another interest of his own volition, it's great! ...Yeah, you have to drag him to bed all the time.

NSFW: 👏Tie👏him👏up! Tech's hands are the most dexterous part of him and give him so much control over things- including you. And if you tie him up and render him subject to whatever you want to do, he becomes a whimpering mess. He'll suddenly be begging for any salvation, bucking his hips up and attempting to grind against you `cause you're just that damn sexy to him.

Wolffe

SFW: Obsessed with holo dramas. Once you caught him screaming at the holo because apparently, the leading lady had made an unwise decision between the two men she was in a love triangle with, and when you asked him about it he immediately denied it. You didn't catch him watching it after that but saw him discreetly trying to find times when he thought you were asleep or working. So then you pretended that you showed interest in the drama to make him feel less bad about watching it. So now you always catch up on the latest episodes when he returns from a dispatch.

NSFW: Enjoys it when you make sorts of animalistic noises in bed. He hasn't expressed it directly, but you're beginning to catch on. He likes to sprinkle on some extra praise if you yelp or howl like a hurt puppy dog, give him those sickly eyes and whimper. And he always comes a little too hard, even letting a few growls rupturing in his stomach out to bless your ears. So in conclusion Wolffe is a furry

a/n: definitely gonna do more of these with other characters, this was really fun! if you guys have any other characters you'd like to see with these headcanons, let me know :) ~ @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @badbatchbabe @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @thebahdbitch @secondaryrealm

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starrylothcat · 2 years ago

Note

If you’re still taking prompts, I’d love to see 12.) “Just lay back and let me take care of you” with Wolffe and an independent female reader who does things on her own and struggles to be vulnerable. I know that’s a lot, so please disregard if it’s too much :)

Look After You

Summary: The burdens of being a war medic are weighing you down, but Wolffe is here to comfort you.

Pairing: Wolffe x Fem!Reader. No pronouns used.

Warnings: NSFW, 18+. PiV sex, cunnilingus, feelings of self-doubt / being overwhelmed / compassion fatigue. Mention of death. A lil’ angsty. Soft Wolffe. Established relationship.

Word Count: 2900

A/N: Ohh thank you for the ask, and it’s def not too much! This became a little personal to me, as compassion fatigue is a large issue in my field of work and something I have experience with. It was the first idea I had for this prompt, so sorry if it’s kind of angsty, haha. I hope this is kind of what you had in mind. I hope you enjoy~

Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum: I will know you forever.

Ner ca’tra: My night sky

Wolffe let out a long sigh as he crossed his arms over his broad chest, watching you pour over reports that were splayed across your desk. Wolffe had been standing in your personal quarters for a few minutes now, and you hadn’t noticed.

“It’s time for a break.”

You mumbled something incomprehensible in return, continuing to shuffle through the piles of flimsiplast reports, not paying attention to Wolffe whatsoever.

Your elbow was on your desk, your palm keeping your head up as your tired eyes flicked back and forth between documents.

Wolffe could tell you were stressed, and you have been for the last couple of rotations. You were returning from a difficult campaign on an outer rim planet, and though it was a victory, heavy losses had been sustained. Morale was low on the ship, as it was whenever they returned to Coruscant with less men than they started with.

It hit you especially hard, being a medic for the 104th. You weren’t immune to stress or grief, but you worked efficiently under pressure, not letting your emotions compromise your top-tier medical care when it was needed most.

That’s why Wolffe fell for you in the first place - your endless compassion and sense of duty. Wolffe has watched you save the lives of his brothers, doing everything in your power to give them the chance to fight another day.

Sometimes you worked too hard, Wolffe needing to remind you to rest. You knew you struggled with it, but the thought of being idle meant lives could be at stake.

The war was not stopping, and if you stopped, what were you left with?

These thoughts were troubling you more and more, especially after this mission.

Death was part of the job, you knew that and have fully accepted it. But each death was starting to weigh heavier on your soul, wondering if you could have done more to save them.

You were beginning to doubt your skills, a heaviness on your chest that wouldn’t quite go away.

You wanted to tell Wolffe, but didn’t want to worry him.

He had enough on his plate and didn’t need to be reminded of the losses. At least that’s what you told yourself. You knew Wolffe would want to listen, but you couldn’t bring yourself to talk about it.

The only thing you could do was work, and hope that was enough of a distraction until you got back to Coruscant.

Wolffe cleared his throat, trying to get your attention again, but to no avail.

Wolffe knew something deep was troubling you, he’s noticed your change in behavior the last few rotations.

You've barely left your quarters on the Republic light cruiser you were currently stationed on, and your usual organized space was a mess. Half-filled cups of old caf were precariously pushed to the end of your desk, your bed was unmade, and plates from the mess hall stacked on the floor by your door.

Wolffe wished you would give him the chance to help you, or at least admit something was bothering you.

You were so caught up in making sure other’s needs were met, you often forgot about yourself.

Wolffe rolled his eye, having an idea of what was going on. He strode behind you, placing his gloved hands on your hunched shoulders.

You didn’t even flinch, murmuring to yourself and typing at hyperspace speeds on your datapad.

Wolffe gently squeezed and felt your tense muscles instantly relax under his fingertips.

Wolffe lowered his head toward yours, lips brushing against your temple.

“Can you take a break…for me?” He whispered, digging more into your shoulders, eliciting a small groan from you.

Finally, you broke free from your work, turning toward him, snapping out of your concentration.

“Wolffe, I have a lot to do…”

Wolffe grunted in response.

“So do I.”

You couldn’t help the small, pleasured exhale that left your lips as Wolffe continued to release the tension out of your stiff muscles, planting kisses down your neck.

“You need to rest. It’s an order from your Commander.”

You turned to him, and though his tone was stern his eyes held something deep, a glint of tenderness only reserved for you.

You let out a breath, pushing yourself away from your desk.

You stood up, stretching your aching back, feeling bad for ignoring him. You hadn’t even noticed he entered your room, thinking he was going to be busy with his own reports and meetings the rest of the night.

Wolffe wrapped himself around you, holding you close as he gently placed his finger and thumb under your chin, tilting your head up toward him.

“Ner ca’tra…”Wolffe touched his forehead against yours as you melted against him, only calling you that special name when you were truly alone and speaking heart to heart. “What’s on your mind?”

You were silent, biting your lip that was threatening to quiver.

Wolffe had noticed your odd behavior, and knew you couldn’t keep it from him forever.

“It’s just my reports…” You mumbled, not finding the courage to admit what you were really thinking.

Wolffe grunted as you leaned your head against his chest, hearing his heartbeat. He wasn’t wearing the top half of his armor, so his body heat radiated onto you, a comforting feeling.

Wolffe sighed. “I know that’s not what’s bothering you. You can talk to me. If you’re not ready, I understand. But I don’t like seeing you like this.”

Wolffe felt you tremble against him as you gripped the front of his blacks.

You wanted to tell him how tired you were, how burnt out you felt, how you were doubting your skills as a medic and every soldier that died under you care was a failure on your part.

You couldn’t speak, a small sob leaving your lips as you pressed yourself into Wolffe’s chest, gripping the front of his blacks harder.

The hidden emotion was threatening to spill out, the nagging thoughts you usually tried to keep at bay, tucked deep down where it couldn’t affect your work.

Wolffe stayed silent, rubbing your back as you let out another sob, falling apart in his arms. Though Wollfe wasn’t speaking, his silence was loud and clear.

Tell me, it’s okay.

“I…I’m just…tired. Tired of the fighting. Tired of death. Tired of seeing good men die for no reason.” Your words were muffled as you wept, fully crying into his chest. Wolffe rested his chin on your head, still quietly rubbing your back. “I…don’t feel like I’m doing enough. No matter how many lives I save, it doesn’t matter…”

Your voice trailed off, trying to catch your breath as more sobs waited in your throat, hot tears spilling down your cheeks and soaking the front of his blacks.

“I didn’t want to add to your burdens, you’ve already lost so much -

“Never think of your burdens as less than mine.” Wolffe cut you off, speaking finally. He pulled you from his chest, his thumb tracing beneath your now puffy eye, wiping away the tears.

“How many times have you helped me through my weakest moments?”

You had soothed Wolffe through many periods of grief, times where he was so angry, so devestated, he couldn’t speak, only quietly weep in your arms as you held him, just as he was holding you now.

Wolffe was eyeing you intensely, his brows furrowed.

“You’re always helping others. It’s okay to let others help you. You’re worthy of that, ner ca’tra.”

The stoic and battle-hardened Commander then kissed you so tenderly and held you so reverently, you couldn't stop the tears from welling in your eyes once again.

“I am always here for you. You know that.”

You nodded, leaning into his large, warm hand.

“I know, Wolffe. I’m…sorry I kept it from you.”

Wolffe traced his thumb over your lips. “You never need to apologize, not for this.”

Wolffe kissed you again, this time more passionately, his tongue tracing over your lower lip as you released his blacks and brought your arms around his solid neck.

You opened your mouth fully for his tongue to caress your own, both of you emitting a small groan as your mouths danced.

“You always take such good care of me…” Wolffe rumbled against you, desire now bubbling in his good eye, his hands ghosting at the hem of your tunic.

“Just lay back and let me take care of you. Is that okay?”

Wolffe kissed your neck, lightly grazing his canines on your skin. His gloved hands now fully under your tunic, delicately roaming up your torso.

“Yes.”

Wolffe wasted no time walking you backward to your bed. Your knees hit the edge of the mattress, and Wolffe laid you down onto the plush blankets.

Wolffe’s tight blacks highlighted his wide chest and rippling muscle underneath, his biceps flexing as he quickly removed his lower armor.

To anyone else, he would look immensely intimidating as he peered down at you, his cybernetic eye almost glowing as he drank in your form. Though his expression was as serious as a lothwolf, you caught that tender look again as he climbed on top of you. That look that said I’m here, I’m yours.

Wolffe made quick work of removing your tunic and breast band, kissing down your chest, leaving small marks to remind you of him later.

“Relax.” He mumbled into your skin, still feeling how tense you were. “I have you.”

Wolffe’s lips trailed up the side of your breast and he took one of your nipples in his mouth. He gently sucked and rolled your sensitive bud on his tongue, feeling it harden under his careful ministrations.

You whined, breathing out his name, letting him take full control over you.

Wolffe released your nipple with a pop and looked up at you, his singular eye once again filled with such gentleness you blinked back tears.

You moaned softly as Wolffe took your other breast in his mouth, giving it the same lavish attention as the other, alternating between using his teeth and tongue, gently sucking and pulling at the sensitive flesh.

Wolffe could hear your labored breathing quicken as he worked your nipple, one of your hands grasping his cropped hair, warmth spreading between your legs.

Once Wolffe decided both of your breasts received proper treatment, he continued kissing down your stomach, moving down your body as he did so. Wolffe slipped off the bed, kneeling as he carefully pulled your body to the edge of the mattress.

He didn't say anything as he removed your pants and underwear, taking off his gloves and stroking a finger through your slick pussy. You keened and whimpered his name as Wolffe kneaded and massaged your thighs, staring at you intently.

“You've saved the lives of my brothers, and mine, more times than I can count. Never doubt your abilities, cyare.” Wolffe murmured, still caressing your thighs.

“I know it feels like it’s never enough. Wolffe kissed your inner leg, tracing his tongue over the sensitive flesh. “But it is. I promise.”

Your heart swelled at his words, breathy gasps escaping your lips as he gently probed your pussy with his tongue, focused on licking and exploring, knowing exactly what you needed.

“Wolffe…oh…Wolffe…” He slowly licked a stripe up your pussy, swirling his tongue around your clit, applying perfect pressure as a thick finger slipped into you.

You grasped the bedsheets and bucked your hips as he lazily fucked you with his finger, pressing to the top of your walls to maximize your pleasure.

He increased his pace as he focused his mouth on your soft labia and clit, bringing you to an explosive first orgasm that shook your body, causing more tears to stream down your face.

Wolffe worked you through it, kissing your inner legs again, leaving a warm trail of kisses back up your torso to wipe the tears away before going back down between your legs.

Wolffe continued to take his time warming you up with his fingers and mouth, bringing you to release too many times to count.

Every inch of your body was claimed by him, worshiped by him, your heart ready to burst with every touch.

Your lovemaking was usually intense, not knowing if it was the last time you had together before being apart on missions, but tonight was different.

Wolffe was touching you as if it was your first time, re-learning your curves and dips, slowly drawing ecstasy from your body and leaving you breathless.

Finally, when you were too tired to move, thoroughly blissed by his ministrations, Wolffe quickly stripped himself of his blacks, laying his body on yours. You felt his rigid cock against your thigh, knowing he was probably desperate for his own relief.

You reached down to grasp him, wanting to give him the same amount of attention as he just gave you, but he gently moved your hand away.

“Next time…” he murmured. “This is all about you.”

Wolffe rubbed his cock against your folds, which were thoroughly soaked. “We don’t have to if you’re not feeling-” Wolffe started. You grasped his hair and pulled him in for a kiss.

“I want to. I want you.” You looked up at him, your eyes begging to have this moment where it’s just the two of you, no one else.

You wrapped your legs around his waist, pulling him in flush against you. “I'm yours.”

Wolffe was so deep inside you, your vision was blurred and you were delirious with euphoria.

You couldn’t speak, every thrust of his hips punching the breath out of your lungs.

Wolffe was talking to you, guttural saccharine murmurs between his own pleasured groans only meant for you to keep close to your heart.

The ever-strong, stalwart Commander, never showing weakness on the battlefield or in front of his brothers, opened his soul just for you in this powerfully private moment.

It almost overwhelmed you, how much he trusted you. You felt guilty for keeping your feelings from him the past few cycles, but as he ravaged your body so devoutly and thoughtfully you couldn’t linger those thoughts long.

Your final orgasm was quickly approaching, Wolffe’s brutal pace not slowing as he felt you clench around him, knowing you were close.

Your knees were pressed into his chest, his cock plunging impossibly further as his large arms caged you in, his fists digging into the sheets around your head.

Wolffe was watching you intently now, observing how your head was thrown back, your mouth open but unable to make a sound as Wolffe gave you everything he had. “Let go, cyare,” Wolffe grunted above you, his end nearing too, your sweet cries and velvety muscle milking his cock becoming too much.

“Let go. I’m here.”

Wolffe’s messily pressed his lips to yours as you fell over the precipice of pleasure, swallowing your cries as your body shook and toes curled at the unbridled pleasure that overtook your being.

Wolffe’s wild pace did not slow, your fingernails digging into his shoulder blades as every thrust of his hips sent shockwaves throughout your body.

Feeling and hearing your orgasm sent Wolffe over, growling your name against your swollen lips, his hips stuttering as his cock emptied inside you. His warmth filled you, leaking onto your sheets as he pumped into you with a few final, shallow thrusts, his back muscles tensing and quivering under your palms.

He pressed his face into the side of yours, his heavy breath tickling your skin as he stilled, laying on top of you, careful not to crush you under his weight.

“Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum.” Wolffe spoke it so quietly, you almost missed it over the sound of your own pounding heart and heavy breathes.

You smiled, repeating back the words, understanding their meaning. You were learning Mando’a from Wolffe, still trying to nail down the correct pronunciations.

Wolffe smirked softly. “Good effort, but you need more practice. I think you told me I was your loving idiot.”

You giggled, feeling lighter now, the burdens of war momentarily forgotten as you lay with Wolffe. “I guess I’ll have to keep saying it.”

Wolffe grunted, a ghost of a rare smile still on his face.

With some effort, Wolffe rolled off of you, your bodies slick with sweat. Leaving you on the bed, he went into your small refresher. You could hear the sound of water being turned on, and he emerged a few moments later, coming back to the bed.

You thought he was going to lay next to you again, but he slid his arms under your legs and torso, effortlessly lifting you up. “Wolffe, what are you…?” You gasped as he nestled you into his arms.

“I’m not done taking care of you, cyare.” He rumbled, striding to the bathroom where the tub was being filled up.

You smiled as he let you down from his arms, stepping onto the cool tile, your legs wobbly from your lovemaking.

“I thought you said you had a lot to do?” You teased as Wolffe stepped into the tub, sinking into the warm water.

“I do, but it can wait. You’re more important than reports and meetings, cyare. At least tonight.” Wolffe smirked, his cybernetic eye flashing, gesturing for you to join him.

You stepped into the tub, the hot water relaxing your sore muscles, your mind finally at ease. You faced him, the steam filling the room.

“Thank you.” You muttered, reaching toward him and running your hand over his scar, tracing your fingers under his eye.

Wolffe turned and kissed your palm. “No need.”

You smiled, leaning back against the tub, sitting in comfortable silence. Your previous anxious notions evaporating with the steam rising from the water.

You knew there were tough days still yet to come for both of you, but at least right now, you could forget.

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yoitsjay · 8 months ago

Text

Betrayal

Pairings: Commander Wolffe x Gn! Reader

Summary: you had been knighted, and then confessed love to the man who helped you get there. And then everything fell apart... you were just so... angry..

Warnings: canon violence, torture, order 66, inquisitors, inquisitor torture. Insanity.

Word count: 2,284

“Congratulations Y/n L/n on passing your knight trials.You have earned the right to call yourself a Jedi Knight, and a General of the republic.”

Plo Koon spoke to you as you knelt down in front of him. He ignited his saber, moving it close to your neck as he cut the padawan braid which fell into your hands. You stared at it for a moment, tears welling in your eyes as you rose to your feet before pulling your master into a tight hug.

“Thank you Master.” You whispered, pulling away as your hand went to where the braid used to be, feeling the singed hair which would grow out with time and join the rest of your hair.

The Jedi in the council room all clapped for you, and you bowed gratefully as Plo-Koon took his seat with the council. You turned to Master Yoda, who was smiling. “A promising future, you have ahead. Grow stronger with the force, you will.” He said, and you bowed once more.

“Keep up the good work, and you might become a Master in the future.” Mace Windu stated, and a small chuckle left your lips. “I can hardly wait, thank you masters.” You stated, before leaving the audience room.

Waiting outside was your Commander, and his wolf pack, their helmets off as they turned to you, grinning. “Awoo! look at you go girl! Congratulations General.” Boost spoke up with a grin as he patted your shoulder. You laughed, pulling the whole squad in, including Wolffe, hugging them all.

“I wouldn’t have been here without any of you. Thank you.” You stated, pulling back as you turned to look at Wolffe, who had saluted to you, the rest of his men following suit. “You’ll be commanding your own squad soon, General. We’re proud of you.” He said, and you placed your hand on his shoulder.

“You’ll always be in my heart Commander, you and the wolfpack.” You started, pulling back with a smile. “Time for a wardrobe change i think.” You joked, waving goodbye as you walked off.

You smiled at the fond memory. It had only been a few months since you were knighted, and you jumped from battalion to battalion before you were told your permanent home would be with your original unit. Plo Koon already knew, but he wanted it to be a surprise for the Wolfpack, especially his commander.

You and Plo Koon were talking at the ship docking bay, watching as clone troopers walked by, waving or smiling as they passed. You had just arrived on your fighter ship, and now you and Plo were making your way up to the bridge.

The doors slid open with a hiss, and as you entered you noticed Boost, Comet and Sinker arguing about something stupid while Wolffe watched with his arms crossed. He was facing away from you, so Sinker and Boost were the first to see you. However you quickly placed a finger to your lips and they kept quiet.

You were now behind Wolffe, smiling brightly before you spoke up.

“I would think in my absence you’d have slapped these boys into shape. Goes to show I can't leave you boys alone.” You spoke up, folding your hands behind your back as your grin settled back on your face.

Wolffe spun around immediately, practically ripping off his helmet as he stared at you. You wiggled your eyebrows at him before pulling him into a hug, since you knew he wouldn’t innitate it. However he happily reciprocated.

“I thought you’d be getting your own squad? What are you doing here, General?” He asked, pulling away after a few moments. You chuckled. “The council requested a new battalion be created, but The republic denied it, so I hopped from Battalion to battalion until they decided I'd go back to my original squad.” You explained.

You then playfully punched his shoulder. “Why, wanna get rid of me already?” You teased me. “No!” Wolffe exclaimed suddenly, clearing his throat as he fixed his sentence. “No General, I am glad you're back.” He stated.

You grinned, patting his shoulder as you went on to greet the rest of the wolfpack.

It had only been a few months but Wolffe could pick out what changed in your appearance. Your hair was shorter and your skin was more tanned, from being out in the sun probably. You had a new outfit, something very different from what you wore as a padawan. There was so much more he could think of but the list would go on forever.

After all the hellos, Wolffe offered to take you back to your quarters which had changed since you were last here but you didn’t mind.

Because as soon as you and him were alone in your room he had you pressed up against the wall, gripping your hips in his hands, his lips against yours as he kissed you furiously.

You were in your early 20’s as a padawan so when you had met Wolffe you and him had a bit of a fling. And you had missed this terribly.

“Wolffe-” You whined, breaking the kiss as you panted for air, hooking a leg on his hip as you stared into his eyes. “I love you.” You whispered, watching as his eyes widened. “I- what?” He asked, breathlessly.

You grinned, sliding your hands from his chest upwards to his cheeks, dragging your thumb along the scar of his right eye as you hooked your leg on his hip. “I said I love you, Wolffe.” You repeated, feeling his hand slide under your thigh to help support you against the wall. You heard a noise from him, resembling a whimper almost.

“I love you too, Sarad.” He whispered, pressing his face into your beck as he inhaled your scent. “I want to take us slow, take you on dates…” He trailed off, picking you up in his arms as he brought you over to your bunk. But he wasn’t rushing, the mood had changed from needing, to all that love and softness that he held for you.

Wolffe removed his armor until he was just in his blacks, now holding you in his arms as he laid next to you. You rested your head on his chest, your hand splayed out against his torso as you sighed.

You talked with Wolffe for what felt like hours, about plans for the future and so much more. Eventually you got up, needing to use the fresher. You were humming to yourself, enjoying a short shower before drying yourself off and getting redressed. You were now drying your hair when you heard some voices from the other side.

You just figured it was Wolffe talking with his brothers over the commlink, or with Master Plo himself. But once you were finished when you opened the door you could immediately tell something was wrong with the way he was sitting, almost with a look of disbelief. He looked up at you, hate and sadness strewn across his face.

“You’re a traitor.” He hissed, and your eyes went wide. “Wolffe what? what are you talking about?” You asked, taking a step towards him, only to stop when he aimed his blaster towards you. You raised your hands in defense, feeling your heart break as he looked at you with such hate.

“The Jedi are being arrested for treason.” He sneered, and you just shook your head in disbelief as he walked towards you. However as he aimed for your head you shot your hand up, throwing the blaster out of his grip.

You grasped his arm and twisted it, kicking him in the torso before slamming his head against your desk, successfully knocking him out. You let out a sob, quieting your voice as you grabbed your lightsaber, hooking it onto your belt, taking Wolffe’s blasters, tucking them into your robes.

You then grabbed your commlink, calling Master Plo who answered with what you could assume to be a chipper attitude. “Wolffe just tried to kill me, Master plo! said that the Jedi were being arrested for Treason! you need to find a way off this ship.” You hissed, putting Wolffe back into his armor before flinging him over your shoulder. “I have a shuttle near the back of the docking bay, wait for me there and hide Master Plo.” You said over the coms before going radio silent.

It was a lie of course, Plo knew you didn't have a shuttle there but if the clones were now hunting Jedi, then he knew to head to the opposite end of where you just told him to go.

You heard voices outside your room, running past it. You waited for a few moments until you heard no voices and sensed no life forms. You opened the door and ran from one end of the hallway to the next, hiding yourself when you needed to. Your main goal was to get to the shuttle, but before you could get up and run again, you heard a stun shot, feeling it hit your back.

You grunted, turning to find Boost and Sinker. “You are being apprehended, on Order of the Chancellor.” They started before stunning you again.

Everything went black.

Your wrists were bound, all you could feel was the harsh cold of metal against your barely clothed back. You were wearing tight blacks from what you could see, and the room you were in was dark, minus the red lights in the walls.

You heard a shift coming from the door before it opened, and your eyes widened as you saw two men enter, along with a probe droid and other tools. You tensed against your bonds, trying to slip out of them… until you felt the force envelope you, squeezing you.

“I saw you in my vision, young one.” A voice, the one whom this force signature belonged to, rang out through the room, sending shivers down your spine. “You will break, and become a lethal user of the dark side, leader of the inquisitorius…” The man trailed off, the force squeezing you tighter, growing painful.

You let out a choked cry, clenching your hands into fists. “Wh- Where… is Com- Commander- Wolffe.” You choked out, a pained yelp leaving your lips as you felt something being injected into your neck. “Your beloved Commander… you may have him, as soon as you break.” The man hissed, before leaving the room. The second man stayed, and you stared as whispers flooded your mind, hallucinations of all your friends, clones, beside him, screaming things at you.

They said you were worthless, that you would never have made a good Jedi knight.

this wasn't real. it wasn't- it can't be real.

It took a month.

Exactly one month until you got that vision of Wolffe, he was hurting you, bruising your flesh as he pushed you around. Anger swarmed your vision as it went red, your blood boiling with that raw emotion.

The man who was always interrogating you witnessed firsthand as a burst of electrical force energy broke the equipment around you. You killed that man with your bare hands. He was just an inquisitor to replace.

All you could see was red as you slaughtered your way through the fortress. You heard a voice, a real voice, not the ones in your mind. It was that man, that sick man who had brought you here in the first place.

You spun around, eyes golden with that rage as the man grinned at you. “Yes… yes! you are perfect.” He stated, coming to a stop in front of you as you heaved with anger. “Use that anger, child. Harness your new power. The Jedi are traitors, your old Master couldn’t even save you.” The man hissed.

You clenched your fists.

yes… the jedi made Wolffe hurt you. The Jedi started the war… this wasn’t your fault. No, the Jedi ruined everything.

you would make them pay.

Weeks later you stood tall, overseeing the turn of many Jedi to inquisitors. You were a hunter, and a damn good one, and the inquisitorius was growing stronger.

You were currently on a different planet, rumored to be harboring Jedi. But you had requested additional backup… a specific man who you hadn’t seen since the jedi tried to make him kill you.

You heard a ship land behind you, and you turned around as Wolffe and his new squad walked down the ramp. You were wearing a white mask, made of bone so he didn't notice you.

“Grand Inquisitor.” The man greeted you. “Remove your helmet, Commander.” You ordered, your voice crackling with the modifier of your mask. However as he removed his helmet, You lowered your hood, and then removed your mask, clipping it to the magnet on your belt.

Wolffe inhaled sharply as he saw you, his lover, the one he once thought a traitor. Now standing in front of him with yellow glowing eyes, bloodshot, an almost insane aura to you. You stepped towards him, grabbing his jaw as you gave him a wolfish grin. “You are my personal commander. Wolffe, my guard, my trooper.” You ordered, releasing his jaw as you instead traced your finger over his scar.

“Y/n-”

“No!” You shouted, grabbing his jaw again. “You lost the right to call me that name.” You hissed, taking a step back as you sucked in a breath to calm yourself. “You may call me Grand Inquisitor until I have deemed you worthy to call me that name.” You stated, placing your mask back over your face.

Wolffe stared at you with concern.

what had he done…

➺

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