#Wolffe x gn reader

[yoitsjay]

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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@moomoog017

[moomoog017]

fic ᯓᡣ𐭩 just a skim ꔛ✿

Commander Wolffe x Medic! GN Reader

Synopsis: After a risky mission, Jedi Master Plo Koon decides to hire a full time medic aboard his ship. 

Genre: tiny angst with fluff n’ spice

Word Count: 1.1k

Warnings: Small description of burn injury, protruding veins (if you like that stuff), character in pain

A/N: 1st Wolffe writing!! This was fun to write, I did my best but what do you think? Writing under the cut!

“I’d like to introduce you to our new medic, they will be staying with us until further notice.” General Plo Koon states, sticking a hand out ushering you from the darkness. You cower behind the Jedi, smiling gently giving a small wave to the crew. “Glad to be working with you guys.” Is all you manage as all the clones eyes on you makes you shrink. Some clones smile or wave back but one gets your attention. He stands apart from everyone else, up front and arms crossed. Your eyes meet his gaze, you quickly take notice of his cybernetic right eye. Your eyes fall from his as your face begins to flush pink. Plo Koon places a gentle hand on your shoulder, making you stand up straight. This is going to be awkward. This will be your first time living with a lot of people in such a closed area, but you were going to make it work.

About 2 months later…

“Ah Kriff!” Wolffe curses, rushing to you, hand resting just under his rib cage on his side. Your eyes widen as you hurry to remove things from your stretcher. He slams down sitting upright onto it. “What happened?” You shuffle to get your medical supplies, placing it down next to Wolffe. “Damn clanker! Got me just in time.” Wolffe’s gruff voice echoed through the room. “Where’s everyone else?” You fumble your gauze as you speak. “Safe, only I got hit.” He gritted through his teeth. “I need to remove your chest armor and blacks.” You stutter. Wolffe nods, helping you remove it, along with shimming out of the top half on his blacks. He takes a sharp inhales through his teeth as you peel the fabric closer to his wound. A hole present from the droid's shot. You pull them down, relieving the wound in full. Scanning Wolffe's wound, a sigh of relief washes over you. “It’s only a graze, just some burn care and disinfecting.” He scowls. “Still hurts like hell.” A small smile grazes your face, relieved he still has his usual attitude.

You turn away to grab the disinfecting liquid from a nearby cabinet. You drip some of the liquid onto a gauze pad and move your hand to his wound. You gently dab the gauze onto his burn. He grunts, squeezing the edges of the stretcher. You notice the veins on his arm protruding, and his muscles tense as he grasps at the metal. The blood rushes to your cheeks as your face gets hot. Your eyes quickly return to his wound. Removing the gauze, you get up once more to grab the burn cream. Taking a small metal scoop, you coat the burn with the cream. The commander looks down at you taking a heavy inhale. The burning and slightly cold sensation of the scoop and cream makes him cringe. “Does that feel better?” You ask hesitantly. “I guess, not the first time I’ve been shot.” His face flat as he looks to his burn.

“Any more concerns doc?” You open your mouth as if to speak but quickly you close it. “What?” Wolffe responds. The question burning through you, ever since you saw him. “Your eye, what happened to it?” He looks down. “Ventress.” He scowls at the name. A small “o” appears on your face. “I’m sorry.” Is all you can manage. You walk closer sitting beside Wolffe on the stretcher. You slowly lift your hand to his chiseled face. He cautiously watches you but doesn’t stop you. Your hands meet his skin, you take your finger tracing his scar. Wolffe watches as you gently trace over his face. A small grin emerges from his mouth. After tracing his scar, you move your hand to his cheek, feeling his cheekbones and rubbing your thumb over it. Wolffe softly takes your hand and places it on his thigh. “It’s ok, it’s been a while.”

You smile admiring him. You’ve never been this close to your commander. You can’t help but take in the image of him. You’ve never seen his bare body before, his chest toned and coated with a shine of sweat. His tan skin enhances his features so handsomely. You feel your face turn extra warm as you shift your eyes to his. Wolffe smirks as he takes notice of you admiring his form, a glare in his fake eye. “Like what you’re seein’?” He speaks, his voice smooth and flirtatiously. “Ah yeahh.” Is all you can manage, words stuck in your throat. Trying to shake the image from your thoughts. “You’re getting really red in the face (y/n).” Wolffe’s voice was low, he was just teasing you now. His smirk plastered proudly upon his face. “So what?” You defensively say, crossing your arms. “Admit it, mesh’la.” The word rolls off his tongue, lingering in the air. The word sends a shiver down your spine, you know what it means. “You’re starting something.” Your eyebrow raises. “Your eyes say it all.” Wolffe stands up from the stretcher, a small wince escaping his lips.

His figure towers over you, your heartbeat speeds up and your breaths become short and hot. Wolffe leans over you, locking you in his arms, hands pressed firmly on the stretcher just barely touching your thighs. You bite your lip in anticipation, your thighs pressed firmly against each other. “Commander…” Embarrassed, you look away. “Look at me mesh’la.” Wolffe says soft but his words are firm. Your eyes slowly meet his, your cheeks warm. The commander brings his face closer to yours lips, almost touching. “I’ve always liked you (y/n).” His eyes burn into yours, he glances to your lips. You had no words, the feeling overwhelming you. “So sweet, a little shy, a little feisty.” Wolffe’s hot breath sweeps across your already burning face. He leans in a little closer and your lips meet. Your eyes close and his rough lips meet your soft ones. Your heart is sent a flutter and all you can hear is your own heartbeat. The feeling so warm and exciting, the feeling of his lips leaves yours as he pulls away after a moment. A small frown tugs at the corner of your lips.

The commander's arms are still holding you still on the stretcher. The sound of the door opening has Wolffe quick on his feet releasing you as he stands up straight, clearing his throat. In return you stand up scrambling to gather your medical supplies. “How is the commander (y/n)?” Plo Koon's voice is deep and sweet. “All good sir!” Wolffe is quick to respond. His response is followed by your nod. “It's just a skim.” Plo nods, satisfied with your answer. “Commander, you're needed in the cockpit.” The Jedi speaks flatly. Wolffe nods quickly whispering in your ear. “We’ll finish this later mesh’la.” His breath skims your ear making you jump a little. You nod your head but Wolffe is already leaving. Plo Koon’s eyebrow raises slightly. You send Plo an awkward lopsided grin. Plo nods his head, removing himself from the room. A small smile forces its way upon the Jedi’s face, as he leaves.  

[vodika-vibes]

Heyy can you please please please

Do a ,, Ideal types of Wolffe, Rex, Jesse etc…“

Someone already did a bad Batch version but no one did a version of our other husbands that would be so nice

Ideal Types

Pairings: Captain Rex x Reader, Commander Wolffe x Reader, ARC Trooper Jesse x Reader, Commander Fox x Reader

Warnings: Uh...this is actually pretty angsty. Sorry.

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly @stupendoussludgezinerebel-blog

A/N: I wasn't sure how many you wanted, so I went with four. I added Fox because I love him, lol. Also, this might not be, exactly, what you wanted. But I was feeling poetic this morning, and then angst monster smacked me with a baseball bat and yeah. I hope you like it!

Captain Rex x Reader - A pillar. Someone who supports him through everything.

You smile at Rex, soft and warm and gentle as he rests his head on your lap. He’s more asleep than awake at this point, and you lightly trail the pads of your fingers over his short hair, careful to not wake him.

He’s so tired, your perfect Rex. Your handsome Captain.

But here, in the safety of your apartment, enveloped in your soft arms and soft scent, the stress lines on his face ease away, making him look his physical age, rather than much older.

He turns in his slumber, his face pressing against your stomach and his arms slide securely around your waist, clinging to you like a child would cling to a treasured blanket, and your smile softens.

He works so hard, your Rex. Has so much stress and responsibility laid upon his broad and strong shoulders. As if he's stuck bearing the weight of the galaxy.

But, right here, right now, you can bear that weight for him.

"Rest, my love." You whisper, your voice soft enough that he doesn't stir, "I have the watch."

Commander Wolffe x Reader - A lighthouse, someone who is able to light his way home, even in the darkest of times.

"You're tense, Wolffe." Your voice is soft as you slide your hands over his shoulders to wrap him in a hug from behind. "Is everything alright?"

His smile is wry and slightly bitter, and you have your answer.

No. He's not alright. He's not been alright since the day he lost most of his battalion. Since the day his beautiful red armor bled all the color out and turned into the solemn grey of mourning.

It's a wound that still bleeds, you know.

You press a feather light kiss against the back of his neck and tighten your arms around him. You won't pressure him, you won't ask him questions.

For all that the curiosity burns, your love for him burns brighter. And so you hold him, and offer him your unyielding support.

He's lost in a maelstrom of grief and pain. A storm of sorrow buffets him from every angle. And there are no words that can ease his suffering.

And so you offer the only thing you can. Your silent support and your undying love. You'll be here to light his way back to shore, always. Forever.

ARC Trooper Jesse x Reader - A sanctuary, someone where he's allowed to break and shatter, without fear of any consequences.

He's shaking.

Jesse's arms are firm around your, his face pressed against your neck as he lays on top of you...and he's shaking.

Trembling, really. Like a tooka kitten.

Your arms wrap around his broad shoulders and you turn your head to kiss the side of his head. You knew, of course, that this deployment was...bad.

But until this very moment, you had no idea how bad.

You won't ask, though you know he'll tell you if you did.

Even though your heart breaks when you feel his tears against your bare shoulder. And then it shatters when a sob rips from your Jesse's throat.

Even then, you still won't ask. You are his sanctuary, his safe place where he can be just a man, and not the strong soldier that he has to be every other day.

And when he, brokenly, whispers that he's applying for ARC, you just tighten your arms around him.

And you know, know, that this story ends in tragedy. But you'll continue being his safe place until it's not needed anymore.

Commander Fox x Reader - A bulwark, a barrier between him and the rest of the galaxy. Someplace where he can feel safe.

Fox sighs, low and quiet as he looks up at you. He has dark circles under his eyes, he hasn't been sleeping again. But that's nothing compared to the angry bruises that you're treating for him.

"I'm sorry," he breathes out, "For being such a burden."

You smile at him, warm and loving, "You could never."

Something like distress slides across his face, "Cyare, I-"

"Shh," You soothe him with a gentle touch of your hand against his cheek, "Whatever it is, darling, it will hold. At least for now."

The distress remains, though it fades as you lovingly apply bacta to another bruise.

He suffers, your Fox. You see it more and more clearly with every passing day. He's losing time, he has growing blank spots in his memory...and it terrifies him.

It terrifies you too.

How long before he's not him anymore? Until he no longer looks at you with love and adoration, but with blank disregard.

You shove the thought to the side firmly. Right here, right now you have your Fox. And you will shield him from the rest of the galaxy, for as long as you can.

That's all you can do for him.

[neon-junkie]

Wolffe letting out a soft chuckle whenever your sarcasm and wit comes out in full swing.

Wolffe crossing his arms against his chest and laughing proudly when you tumble over after attempting to pull a silly move.

Wolffe smiling so happily that the corner of his eyes crease whenever he's speaking to you.

Wolffe being teased by his boys because it's so painfully clear that he has a soft spot for you.

Wolffe forming a warm and welcoming sensation in his chest when you compliment the paint job on his armour.

Wolffe receiving subtle signs of approval from Master Plo after seeing the way that you two simply are around each other.

Wolffe staying up late every night, unable to sleep, blissfully haunted by your character; a ghost who wants nothing but the best for him, and hopefully, his love in return.

Wolffe who feels sick with anger the second you're injured, even if it's just a scratch.

Wolffe refusing to remove his helmet, shielding his glossy vision and held back tears as he holds your unconscious body close to his chest.

Wolffe pacing back and forth along the medical wing corridor, knowing that he has to keep himself occupied, or else he'll drive himself insane over the thought of losing you.

Wolffe whose words fall silent the second that you wake up. A lump in his throat, clouds in his brain; he's no poet, far from it, and he curses himself for not being able to speak plainly.

Wolffe who fails to meet your gaze as your weak hand comes up to cup his jawline, followed by a soft, "I know."

Wolffe, who is neither bark nor bite, because he's so overwhelmed by the positive and wholesome feelings that you flood him with.

Wolffe in love.

[clone-anon-after-dark]

Just As You Are (Wolffe x GN!Asexual!Aromantic!Reader)

Word count: 2047

Warnings: I’ll say NSFW for mention of having sex to make past partners happy, mention of masturbation, minors DNI

A/N: This is my first time writing Reader who is strictly aroace so I hope I did it some kind of justice. I know not all aroace people express themselves in the same way, so this is just one version I had in my mind. I believe what I write is referred to as a queerplatonic relationship? No pronouns are used for Reader.  There is cuddling, bedsharing, and some sweetness, but not romance in the way a lot of people think about it. I think that touch is great and can be a wonderful way of communicating in all relationships, including platonic relationships, so there are some quick kisses, hugs, hand holding, etc.

You'd first met him when helping Rex with some clones who escaped The Empire. They were all stressed and in need of serious help. You ran into him and Gregor on the lower levels of Coruscant. You were selling some speeder parts to another vendor and they were looking for some specific ship parts. One thing led to another and Wolffe's visits to your shop became more frequent. You liked him. He was quick-witted and kind. You weren't sure exactly what you thought about him, just that he had a special place in your heart. Sex wasn't for you. Romance wasn't for you either, but you loved his company. 

Sometimes he would sit with you while you tinkered in the shop, trying to fix something for him while he waited.  You didn’t give too much away at first, but as you got to know each other, you opened up more and so did he.  Like his brothers, he had been through a lot in the war.  You thought he was brave and thoughtful and still managed to keep a sense of humor after all that.  

Wolffe was there the day you broke down and admitted you needed a fresh start and had decided to sell your shop and find some other place in the galaxy. You apologized, knowing they depended on you, but knew life on Coruscant was getting too dangerous to stay.

"Come with us," he said. "There's room for you and we could use your skills. Besides, I'd miss you if I didn’t get to see you again."

You were shocked at first, but within a week a half dozen clones scoured what supplies and parts you had left in your little workshop. You told them to take what was needed and were able to sell the shop and what was left as-is. Wolffe helped you carry your few personal belongings to the ship he now lived on with some of his brothers. You walked away, at least grateful to have someone who cared.

“Everything will work out,” he said.  You smiled up at him and nodded.  You hoped so.

Wolffe helped you get settled in your own bunk on the ship.  Room was rather scarce, but there was some space for each of you.  You traveled with them, helping other clones escape, but found yourself helping the most with everyday tasks.  Cooking, fixing clothes, knowing when to barter, trade, or flat out buy something, and how to fix items.  These were all things they had never had to worry about before. Food was in the mess, they dropped off their blacks to get fixed if they ripped, and they never worried about money or buying supplies during the war.  The GAR took care of it, even if the food wasn’t particularly delicious or plentiful.

One night, as you sat in the cockpit together, keeping an eye out for any problems on the backwater planet you’d settled on for the night, Wolffe decided to make his feelings known.  He turned to you and rubbed the back of his head before taking a deep breath.

“I care about you, you know.”

You looked at him and smiled. “I know. And I care about you.”

“I mean, I think I am in love with you,” he replied.

You felt butterflies in your stomach.  Somehow you knew he felt this way and you worried that if he knew the truth about how attraction worked for you, he wouldn’t want anything to do with you and you’d lose your dearest friend.

“Wolffe, I…” you thought about where to start, but it was clear his heart was sinking with worry that you didn’t think about him the same way.  You reached out and held his hand.  He slowly let his fingers close around yours as you continued.

“I don’t experience romantic attraction. I also don’t like sex. I have never wanted to have sex.  It’s not you.  I actually… I love you too… just maybe in a different way.”

He let a cautious smile spread across his face.  You were in it now and he hadn’t rejected you yet.  You might as well lay it all out.  As if he knew you needed another bit of strength, Wolffe squeezed your hand a little, reminding you that he was still there with you and wanted to hear what you had to say.

“I may not be attracted to people in those ways, but I definitely have feelings for you, Wolffe.  More so than Rex or Gregor or my other friends and certainly more than I did for my family.  But I understand if that’s not enough.  It’s never been enough for anyone else.”

He held your hand and reached out to caress your cheek with his thumb. “Is this okay,” he asked, pausing just before touching your face, and wanting to be near you but not wanting to overstep.  You nodded and smiled, somewhat surprised by his reaction to what you just said.

“It’s more than enough for me and it’s more than okay,” he said.  “And if you don’t believe me, let me show you.  Give me a chance to love you how you want to be loved.”

You leaned into the hand still holding your cheek.  You relaxed a little, trying to not let old worries bother you.  Right now, you felt understood and embraced for who you were.

It took a little time, but you both slowly had conversations about where the boundaries were.  You loved cuddling and Wolffe was all too happy to welcome you into his bunk. He swapped sheets and blankets with your old bunk so that you could be comfortable with what was familiar, but the temperature on the side of the ship with his bunk was more to your liking, so you moved your stuff over.  

The first night together started a little awkwardly, but you felt so safe when he put his arm around your waist and asked, “Is this okay?”  You assured him it was.  Wolffe was normally so sure of himself and confident in combat, but with you he was only confident when he was sure you were on the same page.  He wanted to get it right.

“Can I kiss your cheek,” he asked.  You nodded.  

“Do you like kisses, Wolffe?”

“Yes.”

You kissed his cheek in return and rested against him.  It felt so right.  You fell asleep together and got some of the best rest of your life.  Wolffe’s presence felt like a weighted blanket - not controlling or restricting, but calming.

A few mornings later he woke up before you and as soon as he realized his morning wood was against your leg, he pulled away.  You woke up from the sudden movement and asked what was wrong.

“I’m sorry,” he said.  “I didn’t want you to think I…”  He looked down and wasn’t sure what to do.

“It’s okay,” you said.  You rubbed your eyes and laid back down, unsure of what else to say.

“I never want to pressure you,” he said.  “I didn’t want you to think I was.”

“You haven’t.”  You smiled, picked up his hand, and kissed the back of it.  You got up to use the refresher and you both went about your day.  Later in the evening, you found some time together.  Wolffe sat next to you and held your hand. It was becoming one of your favorite things.  Gregor joked that you were attached at the hands instead of at the hips before he got up and walked toward the cockpit for his watch.  You loved that.  Wolffe’s hands were somehow hard and soft at the same time, like him. It felt grounding.

Once you were alone, you brought up his earlier reaction to his body functioning normally and promised him you didn’t mind.  You knew he couldn’t control what his body did while he slept.  At the same time, it felt like you should bring up the topic of intimacy.  You asked if he was really okay with being with you and not having sex.

He scoffed and replied, “My hand and a couple toys have always been enough for me.”

You laughed a little at his honesty, but loved it.  He leaned toward you and rested his forehead against yours.  “We’re close in other ways.”  

“Yes, we are,” you replied with a warm smile.

After a few minutes, Wolffe tentatively asked something that had been on his mind.

“You said before that having a relationship like this has never been enough,” he said slowly.  “What happened? You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to. I’m just curious.”

You bit your lip and moved to lean on his shoulder, still holding his hand.  He gave it a little squeeze.  

“I was with couple other people at different times.  Tried the relationship thing. Someone would get to know me, wanted to date, romance, sex, the whole usual thing people normally do.  When I told them I’m not interested in that kind of love and didn’t feel like having sex with them, they would say they understood and it was fine, but eventually it wasn’t enough.  Especially the last person.  He really pressured me.  At that point, I cared about him and yeah, loved him in my own way, and I had sex with him to make him happy.  It didn’t feel right, though, and the relationship didn’t last.”

Wolffe’s breathing got heavier and you glanced up to see anger on his face.  You pulled away, unsure, and his expression immediately softened to one of care and protection.

“I’m not mad at you,” he said, seeing your uncertainty.  “Far from it.  I’m sorry you felt like you had to do that.  It’s not right.”  He put an arm around you and pulled you close, placing a chaste kiss on the top of your head.  You let out breath you didn’t know you were holding in.

“I want to make you happy,” you said.

“You do,” he answered with a broad smile and another kiss to your head.  “You make me so kriffing happy.  You’re enough as you are.”

You only became more inseparable as the years went on.  You came to depend on each other. If anyone asked he would say “we’re together” or “that’s my partner.”  You said the same of him.  He always made you feel special just as you were.  Each night you got into bed together and talked about your day.  You helped each other unwind simply by offering each other comfortable familiarity.  Some night you’d read a holonovel together and discovered you both liked science fiction.

You saw each other through some challenging times, too.  When you were in the Outer Rim and Wolffe’s cybernetic eye stopped working at the end of a mission, he was terrified he lost his sight for good.  You held his hand and ran him back to the ship, reminding him that his other eye was working and he would be okay.  As Gregor and Rex took off, looking for the nearest doctor who could help, you sat with him.  It was clear he was having flashbacks to the war and when he first lost his eye.

“I’m here,” you reminded him.  “I promise it will be okay.  You’re on our ship, Wolffe.  Rex and Gregor are here and we’re going to get you help.”

He looked like a terrified cadet, crying as you held him.  You walked him back to your shared bunk once you were in hyperspace, hoping the familiar sights, smells, and textures would help.

“Please don’t leave,” he asked through tears. 

“I never will.”

Everything turned out okay.  He needed an adjustment to his cybernetic, but was assured it should still last the rest of his lifetime and then some.  That night, you held him, letting him rest his face in the crook of your neck, while you rubbed his back.

“I’m sorry you had to see that,” he said.  “I don’t know why I broke down when I could see out of my good eye just fine.”

“It’s okay,” you replied.  “You have nothing to be sorry for. You’ve gone through a lot.  I love you just as you are.”

“And I love you too,” he said, “just as you are too.”

Tagging: @kixs-husband @staycalmandhugaclone

[neyswxrld]

cold as ice

wolffe x reader (gn)

summary: Reader is left in the lurch, Wolffe is there to comfort!

warnings: a bit angsty, showering together (nothing happens, it's a warm up/comfort shower)

word count: ~1380

advent calendar masterlist

a/n: this is the twelfth fic for my advent calendar!

p.s. english isn't my mother tongue, sorry for misspellings! 

With chattering teeth, you step inside your apartment. Your hands and toes feel like ice. You are sure your nose and your cheeks are red, if not almost blue already. You are shaking, and there is a small coat of snow on top of your shoulders and your beanie.

"Baby? What are you doing here? Weren't you supposed to be out eating with your friends?" Wolffe, who had opened the door for you, asks, confused and steps aside.

"Yeah- I- I-," you can't even form your sentence before your knees give out and you almost fall to the ground, if it wasn't for Wolffe who reacts impossible fast, catching you in time.

"Hey, hey, Cyar'ika!" he calls out, holding you up and closing the door behind you.

"What the hell happened? You're freezing!" he realizes, feeling you tremble in his arms. 

"We need to get you warm again. Come on," he mumbles and starts to pull your coat from your shoulders, guiding you to the small bath.

He carefully manhandles you, pulls off your clothes, and turns on the shower for you.

As you stand under the hot water, slowly getting warmer again and enjoying Wolffe's soft massage on your scalp, you stop trembling from the cold so much. The clicking of your teeth stops, and you start to feel how the fading cold leaves space for your disappointment and fury.

"We- We wanted to eat dinner in that stupid restaurant. But Sari said she wouldn't be able to come and get me, so I thought I could walk," you begin, already feeling how Wolffe tenses behind you at the mention of your supposed friend's name.

Since you and Wolffe knew each other, he knew of that one friend group of yours. While he isn't a big fan of them due to various different occasions, with you on the receiving end, he still tries to support you and be there for you. Whether you decide to stay with them or to end the friendship.

You talk a lot to him about those friends, and you've already started to distance yourself from them. Every time you hang out together, you feel bad afterward and question your worth. Wolffe had to knock some sense into you again too often already.

But you still weren't able to fully let go of them. You were clinging to your past and the need to get some of that again. But the truth is: they changed, you changed, and your lives just don't seem to be compatible anymore.

His eyes narrow, and due to his cybernetic eye, he looks intimidating and kind of dangerous. If you didn't know him that well, you might have been a bit scared. But it's Wolffe. He wouldn't hurt a fly when you were with him.

"Walk? But isn't that like over half an hour?" he asks, and you nod. "Yeah, normally it's not that bad, I've walked to that place a few times already, but I didn't realize it was that cold," you murmur, leaning on him a little bit. He closes his arms around you, pulling you closer to his naked chest.

"I thought it was okay because we would sit in that restaurant and we would eat a nice and warm dinner," you continue, already feeling angry tears in your eyes. You try your best to swallow them down.

"When I arrived, the restaurant was closed. The lights were out, no one was inside, and I was standing there alone. At first, I thought it was my fault... I thought I got the date wrong or that I messed up the locations, but then I looked up our messages, and I was right on time. Then I thought that maybe they wouldn't know of that either, and I waited. For almost half an hour again, because I was sure they all would step by. I was asking in the group chat where they were, and suddenly, not only Sari couldn't come, but all of them had other plans with their families, or they were sick, or something like that. So I decided to walk home again," you tell Wolffe, this time you can't fight your tears.

"Why didn't you call?" he asks, a bit confused. "What would you have done? Come by and walk with me, so we're both freezing?" you want to know. "I'd rather come home to you and get warmed up by you than be the cause of your discomfort," you say, blinking some tears away.

Wolffe sighs and nods. "Yeah... You're right."

"Do you know what the worst thing about that is?" you ask quietly after some silent moments. "I actually fooled myself into believing this really could be true. Sudden sickness, changing plans because of family problems, whatever they said. It would have been okay for me. But then Au'rii coincidentally sent me a picture from a party he was at. And then, in the background, I could see all of them. Drinking, laughing, partying."

This time, you really start crying heavily. You're almost embarrassed by how loud your sobs are, but then you remember that you're with Wolffe. Nothing has to be embarrassing with him.

Disappointed, angry, and furious all the same, you turn around to hide your face in his neck, trying not to feel hurt that much. It doesn't work.

"Instead of just saying that they don't want to hang out with me, they act like that," you cry, feeling how Wolffe hugs you, carefully stroking over your naked back.

"Oh, Cyar'ika," he murmurs, pressing a small kiss to the side of your head. You can't stop crying, not now. Everything is just a little much.

"I know that it hurts. It hurts in your heart. But you know what? If it hurts there, it's okay. Because that means you're a good person," he whispers, tapping the place where your heart sits under your skin.

With one second, your feelings change. Instead of crying out of anger and disappointment, your tears intensify. Suddenly, you cry because you're so touched by his words. Wolffe, the tough, strong man, a war hero, tells you that you're a good person. Because you have feelings. Because you mean well. Because you don't expect the worst of people and get disappointed over and over again. Because you still keep going on, believing in the good in people.

You keep crying into his shoulder until you feel like you can't anymore. Wolffe is always by your side, never leaving you and every time a new wave of sobs hits you, he hugs you a little tighter.

After a while, your eyes and cheeks are puffy, hurting from all the tears. Snot leaves your nose, and apologetically, you wash some off Wolffe's shoulder, glad that the shower is still on.

"Come on, let's go and cuddle up on the couch. We can watch some of those winter wonderland movies," he suggests, wrapping a towel around your bodies as soon as you step out of the shower, carefully drying your skin.

"But you don't like those movies," you mumble. He just shrugs his shoulders.

"It's okay. I can keep up with one or two if it makes you happy," he smiles, kissing your temple.

About half an hour later, you sit next to each other on the couch, cuddled up under some soft blankets. Each of you has a hot chocolate in your hand and enjoys the sweet taste of it.

"You know what?" you ask him after some time.

"What?" he wants to know.

"I enjoy everything with you so much more than I ever enjoyed anything I did with them," you murmur after some time, leaning onto him, careful not to spill your drinks.

Wolffe smiles softly, lays an arm around your back, and slowly starts to draw small circles on your hip.

"You know what?" he now asks.

"What?" you repeat.

"I enjoy everything we do, too," he smiles, pressing another kiss on your temple. "So, so much."

Together, you let the evening fade out. Cuddled up on the couch together, worshiping each other's company and appreciating the warmth.

That evening was the last time you ever heard something of your so-called friends. Wolffe helped you to finally let go of them and break the contact. Since then, you've felt much better.

TAGLIST:

@isthereanechoinhere96 @trixie2023

[toomanybandstocare]

{Sweet Whiskey}

Program: There are some people who come into our lives who are meant to be there through the worst and best of times. Their hearts are entwined with one another and beat in rhythm like it's the only why they know how to exist. A connection that makes so completely sense that it causes us to doubt ourselves and our partner.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Bartender, GN! Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Length: 4015w

Warnings: Alcohol + bar setting, swearing, heartbreak, drinking when emotionally / mentally unwell, miscommunication kind of? they let their insecurities/fear get the best of them more like it ... I think that's it? Let me know if I missed anything (minus the usual, not edited / work shopped as much as I had hoped)

Camp Resolute Masterlist

Song Request: "You're too sweet for me" {Too Sweet // Hozier}

Counselor Note: For the amazing @starboytech! This is a part of the @cloneficgiftexchange hosted by Ghost - thank you so much for hosting as always. Daisy, I hope you enjoy! I'm sorry it's on the later end of the day. I've been in an absolute rut with all my creative hobbies, so I'm afraid it's not that good. I hope you're doing well, and I was so excited you were my partner for this exchange. I miss our chats and being a part of this community. <3

Post Script: As usual, as much as it terrifies me to write Wolffe - I'm always curious about exploring his character and how to express a vulnerable side to him since he's always conveyed as confident and domineering. I don't know if I achieved well, so may be possibly out of character. And honestly, I'm okay with that. I think for the past year I've been so nervous to write again because I saw and experience first hand how people reacted when their favorite character isn't portrayed how they wanted, and I let that add onto my writer's block. So fuck it - writing is learning how to hone your craft and style. Not everything you or I write will be a masterpiece, and not everyone will enjoy. We're write because we have an itch to communicate what it means to be human through our perspective and how others may view the same experience in a completely different lense.

Shifting your weight on the cool durasteel stool, you take a swift sip of whiskey from the chilled glass in front of you. It kisses your lips with a bittersweet sting, and you let the amber liquid overcome you with little struggle. As you swallow the drink, your gaze sweeps the noticeably larger crowd that surges through the club tonight in a melancholic haze. Your throat constricts in combination of the whiskey’s burn that flares through your system and the all faces who bare too much of a resemblance to the man who left you sitting at this very bar with a broken heart a year ago. Yet after all this time, a pang punches your chest through the walls you’ve built without fail when your mind drifts back to the memories of him.

Everyone, nat-born or clone trooper alike, carry a refreshed air of hopefulness that feeds the electric energy coursing through the club. It weighs down on your weary muscles and sticks to your skin as the air thickens with every new patron who enters 79s. You sink further into the impassive, catatonic stupor you’ve become all too familiar with and avoid anyone’s eye. Fear churns your stomach as you recalculate the odds of anyone recognizing you and the inevitability shoots an arrow of panic through you. Unable to hide from the live reports and battle coverage, the Republic’s latest victory has been impossible to ignore alongside the footage of Commander Wolffe and the 104th battalion who lead the charge. Cries of excitement and cheers ripple through the crowd as club-goers are quick to find their partners for the evening while you cozy up with a bleeding heart from the glimpses of gray armor plates that catch your attention on the opposite side of the bar. The back of your neck stings in an increasing flare of unease. In a bout of potentially misplaced confidence, you swallow the lump of anxiety crawling across your tongue with another sip of whiskey and refuse to cut your evening short. The odds of the battalion choosing 79s as their destination for their night out on the town was unavoidable, but you liked your odds of Wolffe opting out of their celebrations like he used to do a hell of a lot better. A bitter, melancholic laugh wisps past your lips, and you shake your head with another indulgence of the amber liquor. The echo of his words rage and crash against your skull slicing a fresh cut across your heart that catches the alcohol in its wound. Its sting spreads across your chest and makes it difficult to breathe as that night overcomes you.

“This isn’t working”. A low rasp breaks through the uncharacteristically quiet music playing at 79s.

“What? Did they switch whiskey suppliers without consulting you first?” you nervously chuckle. You fiddle with the straw to your fruity cocktail and peer up at Wolffe from across the glass’ edge. The pin pricks that have been present all evening now sting your skin in a sudden alarm. You’ve been clutching onto your rose colored glasses as all the signs seem to have begun to show up over the past few weeks. Insecurity tangles with the adoration you hold for Wolffe as you stand by the commander’s side on nights out when you notice all the glances and giggles sent his way. Out of anyone in the galaxy, he’s chosen to be with you yet you struggle to find your place in his world. Never uttering the fear to Wolffe knowing there are so many more concerns than the irrational thoughts that bite at the back of your mind. “ Maybe they have your beer on rotation. Kiva -” 

“Us, cy’are” Wolffe swiftly interrupts you before you can call the attention of your friend on bartending duty tonight. “We… aren’t working,” he quietly clarifies yet he leaves little room for argument with the stoney expression he struggles to maintain. Wolffe’s gaze scans your face for any reaction in a last act of desperation, and his heart squeezes with the slow realization slipping over your radiant smile. The crease between his brow deepens when your expression stills with a detached vacancy. Stuck looking up at him with eyes - those fucking eyes he searches without fail for in every crowd - void of emotion. Wolffe’s heart thunders against his chest and begs him not to go through with this irrational decision.

Everything around you goes still. The neon lights cut through the tension in the air in a slow haze as other patrons beam and laugh all around you. Nothing goes through your mind as the warning sting ignites into an all consuming inferno of betrayal. Its flames burn through your veins as your breath comes out short and forced. "Why?" you quietly push further.

 Wolffe's expression pinches for a moment. Your determined gaze cuts through him, and Wolffe has to fight the urge to not shudder. For all the hardship and tragedy he's faced, Wolffe has never felt a bone chilling dread like he does standing before you. “We're too different, cy’are” he clips back. The words come out tight as they roll off his tongue with difficulty. Wolffe clutches his glass as your gaze narrows, and he raises the amber drink to take a slow sip. His usually cool bravado cracks under the tension, and he tries to wear a similar mask to avoid revealing the fears that gnaw at the back of his mind. Wolffe bites down the all too familiar wince that accompanies his vice. Not even the sting of whiskey can warm him.

“That's what works best with us. We compliment each other,” you bite back. Your knuckles bleach as you tightly grasp your cocktail glass. “From the minute we’ve met, we’ve always gravitated to each other to the point where everyone asks where the other is if we’re not together. Don’t you dare try to push me away when it’s obvious to ourselves and everyone around us that we’re meant to share our lives together. I know there’s something else going on, so you don’t you fucking bullshit me. I want to be with you, Wolffe, and I know what I’ve signed up for. Nightmares, phantom pains, long distance with no promise of the next time we’ll see each other - I have no reservations about navigating this with you. When everything feels like it’s crumbling underneath you, you without fail come to me to remind yourself that there is some hope left for the galaxy. That there are people who want to see you and your brothers return home. So don’t you dare say we’re too different when all I want is to stand by your side and love you”.

Wolffe lets out an airy chuckle, “You're too sweet for me”. With a control that he no longer believes he possesses, Wolffe places his glass on top of the bar and out of the corner of his eyes he catches how your body stills at his words. Your sudden passion to fight back wavers, and Wolffe lunges at the opportunity with a difficulty he forces down. “You know what you’ve signed up for?” he slowly repeats. “I don’t think you really do, because you’re not the one facing clankers and cannons every day fighting to survive. I spend every single fucking moment of my existence watching my brothers die by my side and sometimes even taking their last breath in my arms,” Wolffe spits out. It takes everything in him to swallow the waver in his voice and allow the pent-up devastation of war to consume him - to weaponize himself against the one person who loves him unconditionally. “While I live in the uncertainty of the next time I'll be planetside, you spend your days disconnected from the sacrifices so many have made to keep the system safe. To keep you safe. I wanted to break things off kindly, but clearly you're so delusional that you can't tell when someone's grown tired of your fantasy. I’m sick and done spending my limited days of freedom playing house to entertain you. I need you to come back from the clouds right fucking now and listen closely. You're, too, sweet, for, me,” Wolffe all but growls. His hand screams in agony as he clutches the empty glass with white knuckles. There's a morbid humor that the crystal-like glass stands strong against his chokehold as his heart shatters in time the tears that softly trail down your face. His chest burns with regret that singes through him as he carves this moment in his memory. Without daring to meet your eyes, Wolffe turns his back on you.

Your glassy gaze stings as you recount that devastating night. You shake your head abruptly while rapidly blinking back the new onslaught of tears and try to collect your shaky breaths. You hastily bring the whiskey glass to your lips and take a sharp gulp. Bitterness blooms over your tongue and overpowers the burning desire for the amber liquor that you normally find solace with. With an elbow on the bar to lean your head on the empty glass, you raise your other hand to pinch the bridge of your nose and squeeze your eyes shut. Melancholy and drunken fatigue sit heavy on your shoulders as you fall into the ritual like haze. It's not a storm of emotions that overcomes you. No, that's stopped at the one month mark. In the months after that, your heart began to slow into a dull rhythm that drew out all of life’s vibrancy. Self destruction swiftly wrapped its claws around you and beckoned you into this dark, unfamiliar place. By the six month mark, you stopped struggling against its ghostly touch and sought its company in it rather than your friends'. Not a single one of them could break through to pull you out of this fog as you slipped further and further from them. The silent agreement came into contract after the eighth month when they realized there was very little they could do that would actually help you rather than break you anymore. You would only indulge in your weekly ritual during Kiva’s shift at 79s. Speeder card was left at home as you rode in with him to work, and he would  bring you back to your apartment at the end of the night. A fresh sheet of sheets would always be made up for him, so he could spend the night in your guest room to ensure you were safe.  Should anything alarm him during the night, Kiva would immediately send a message to the group chat and your ritual would come to an early end with a severe reality check.

A dull clunk vaguely registers in the distance as you take a slow breath. “Normally, I'd be in a rush to close out and get us to home,” Kiva murmurs from across the bartop, “but I can wait this one out. Just try to enjoy the company of a person for a change”.

Your eyes flash open, and Kiva's back has already turned away from you before you can even open your mouth to call him back. Cool condensation causes goosebumps to rise over your skin when your hand bumps into a freshly made cocktail, and your attention snaps to the bar top. Your posture stiffens at the sight of what was once your favorite sweet beverage for nights out. Nausea rocks through you as you set your empty whiskey glass next to it with a shaky hand.

“C’yare,” he quietly calls out.

You take a sharp breath. Nearly a year to the date since the last time you heard his voice, and Wolffe still manages to make your skin flush from the pet name alone. But the warmth of past memories and alcohol can’t defend itself from the sudden chill that overcomes your body. An uncomfortable understanding overwhelms you, and his voice rings alarms in your mind once more in a mournful sense of deja vu. 

“Wolffe,” you force yourself to acknowledge.

Dread floods Wolffe, and the skin at the back of his neck stings. He takes a cautious step closer to you - sweeping his gaze over your stiff posture. The sharp glint that catches him from the coroner of your eye reminds him of a wild animal assessing a threat. Wolffe's heart rate spikes, shooting blood to the surface of his skin and burns. Everything is wrong. This is wrong. This is not you. This is not the same sweet love who he adores even with all the guilt and anger he holds for himself from the last time he saw you. “What's happened?" he cautiously asks. Though he already knows the answer, Wolffe holds on to the waning hope that he's wrong. For once in his life - Wolffe desperately wishes for his instincts to mislead him in this moment. 

It could be the remnants of your tipsy haze. It could be the disbelief that punches you to your core. It is most certainly a fucking combination of the two at the very least. Every muscle in your body tenses - ready to pounce. “Excuse you?” you quietly hiss. You narrow your eyes as anger flares through your chest. “What, happened?” you punctuate the words of his question and turn your body to face him dead on. You let your other arm drop to the bartop, avoiding the drink glasses and dig your nails into the cool durasteel. “Did you really care so little for me that you couldn't possibly fathom that your actions have consequences even off the battlefield?” A sickening sense of pride twists inside you at the sight of Wolffe unable to hold back a slight flinch. 

Bile builds at the base of his tongue, and Wolffe carefully slides on to the stool next to yours. Resting an elbow on the bar top, he leans his head on one hand while the other twitches on his thigh. Your stormy gaze holds Wolffe in a suffocating swell. Gliding his tongue across the back of his teeth, he takes a calculated pause before admitting: “I care for you so deeply that I would rather you hate me for the rest of our lives than hurt you. So seeing my cy’are before me as this new person - someone who I can barely piece together just how I was able to recognize - all because of the decision I made in hopes of keeping you safe but actually broke you? I would willingly volunteer for the next no-return assignment, because I cannot live in a galaxy where my sweet love is so bitter - by my marred hand no less”. Wolffe’s chest heaves as his heart crashes against its cage. His skin feels hot from the searing rush of blood cutting him from the inside, and he squeezes his fist on top of his thigh to stop himself from pulling on the collar of his blacks. He doesn't remember when he started to lean closer to you, but as his gaze flickers across your face, Wolffe swallows the lump at the back of his throat. Unease crawls over the stony façade of his usual confidence as the seconds slip by in deafening silence under the pulsing lights. 

A new wave of tears sting at your lash line, but you don't hide them. A part of your past self screams for you to listen and to believe in Wolffe’s words. “Liar,” you hiss. Hope cracks through your hard demeanor, and you desperately want him to prove you wrong.Your former self sobs, and it breaks past your snarl. “Why come back then?” you push further with a watery waver to your voice. “Just to revel in the consequences of your actions? To punish yourself for letting fear break your code of conduct that you so proudly follow on and off the battlefield?”

Wolf bows his head while flexing his hand across the scratched armor. Why is he doing this? Why did he run away from you in the first place? He can't remember a moment in his life where he was so overcome by a flood of emotions like that evening where he couldn't think rationally. Seeing you across the bar tonight as a shell of the person he loves, it felt as if his entire world had been blown to pieces. With a slow exhaled breath, Wolffe dares to look up at you. His stomach knots when he's met with the trails of tears that dance across the plains of your face. The wind is knocked out of his lungs in a sucker-punch when he pulls his gaze to look you in the eye and is met with a glimmer of his cy’are pulling through the broken mask. 

“Because I had hoped I would find you again”, he explains with a steady calmness despite the dizzying rush overcoming him. “For the past year, I laid awake in the dead of night wondering if I had done the right thing. It didn't matter what was happening around me - if I was in my cabin suffocated by silence or surrounded by the onslaught of blaster guns and bombs - I just needed to know that you would be safe and taken care of in a way that I couldn't promise you”. Wolffe pauses for a moment before cautiously reaching out to cup your jaw with his hand. A laugh of disbelief slips past his lips from how even through the thick, ballistic material of his glove he can still feel how soft your skin is beneath his touch. “The next time I saw you, I had hoped you would be tucked under the arm of some nat-born who’d be there for you each day and be able to come home to you every night without worry. In all the scenarios I came up with and constantly replayed in my mind, I never imagined we'd meet again here or like this. But that’s just who we are it seems”. Wolffe pauses to take you in with uncertainty in his eyes and tries to etch every detail of your face into his memory in case this is truly the last time he sees you. “Two very different people who are terrified of losing each other to the point where they push it out of mind until it rears its ugly head and makes us believe the irrational thoughts. So I’m telling you now - pushing you away that night is what keeps me up at night with guilt, and I promise to keep you safe, even from my own fear of losing you, if you’ll let me”.

Tears freely streamed down your cheeks and everything feels too much. Your skin prickles across the entirety of your body all except where Wolffe so carefully cups your jaw. As much as you want to shove him away and to scream at him and to leave him sitting here humiliated like he did with you one year ago - you can't. For the first time in such a long time, you feel things past the passize haze. “All I wanted to do is stand by your side and show you what it feels to experience a gentle love. Even when I was afraid that I wasn’t enough for you, I wanted to push that to the side to focus all my care and attention on us. Those insecurities felt so small in the grand scheme what you had to, and still have to, carry the burden of that I didn’t want to confide in you for the very reasons you used against me. I despise you for what you did to me”, you sob as you let yourself fall into his chest. The moment his arms catch you and envelops you with his body entirely, you let the mask fall completely. One hand clutches your hip and pulls you into Wolffe’s chest and the other rests on your shoulder as he supports you. Your head spins, and for as much as you should try to speak up and continue voicing how you'll need time to heal - you let yourself sink into the near forgotten feeling of comfort. The rods of tension that had cemented into your bones snap, and you press your face into Wolf's neck while wrapping your arms around him. His usual cologne still grounds you while shooting a dizzying sense of happiness through you. “I don't want to keep feeling like this, Wolffe. But I also don't want to let you back in if you're going to just shut me out. I can't do this again - I barely made it through this year. I can't survive another heartbreak so soul shattering. Especially from the same person who's now promised to keep me safe twice now”, you sob. 

Wolffe brings his hand up from your hip to rest at the nape of your neck. He gently sweeps his thumb back and forth as you try to reign in your uneven breathing. A dull throb hammers against your skull and grows at a rapid pace when a fresh wave of troopers cheer nearby and break through your private conversation. You wince, and Wolf glides both of his hands carefully to cover your ears. He moves one hand slightly to lean in close to your ear.

“There are not enough ways for me to express how sorry I am for not making the space for you in our relationship to feel like you could talk to me when you needed me, but I will show you in every possible way because an apology could never give you the justice you deserve for betraying you like that”, he quietly murmurs, “Let me walk you home as the first. I'll write my comlink connection for you, and when you're ready, you can give me a call to continue this conversation. Only if you want to speak to me again - we’ll do this on your terms. Just let me have the privilege to know you got home safely one last time”. 

Your fingertips press harder into his chest plate and trail down to where his blacks peek out between his body and leg armor - yearning to find contact with the man you adore and not the war that’s stolen everything from him. “I still have your com-connect”, you sheepishly admit. “I wasn't ready to say goodbye to you, either in the sense I would call you in a rage demanding … exactly this … or in hopes you would call saying it was a mistake … like this”. You feel the rumble of Wolffe’s chuckle where your chests press close together as the warm fan of breath that tickles the skin just underneath your ear. “I just want to go home, but I don't want to let you go though”. 

Wolf doesn't bother to stop the smile curling at the corner of his lips. He carefully leans into your embrace, and for once he's grateful for the armor separating the two of you as he’s sure that you would have been able to feel his heart crashing against his ribs to try and find its way back to yours. “You're still at the same complex, right?” he asks quietly. Barely catching your hum, Wolffe slowly nods and suggests: “If it's okay with you - and I mean that, only if it’s absolutely okay with you - I could stay in the guest room or on the couch. If it would help you rest easy knowing that I'm not going anywhere. And we can get breakfast to talk through things in the morning, because there's nothing that could keep me from you if you allow me the chance to prove myself to you”. 

You take a sharp inhale and pull yourself away only slightly to meet Wolffe’s soft yet determined gaze.”Promise?” you ask breathlessly.

 “I will live the rest of my life picking up the pieces of you that I broke, and I will stand by you as you learn to be yourself again. I promise, my sweet love, I'm not going anywhere without you”.

[wizardofrozz]

Fire and Rain

Commander Wolffe x GN!reader, OC Sawbones

Word Count: ~1.6k

Warnings: war, death, mention of violence, grief, soft Wolffe

A/N: I had a bad day and all I want is to listen to the rain while Wolffe comforts me. So that's how this fic came to be lmao. I hope you enjoy 🖤

Humanitarian missions were some of your favorites. You spent most of your time in the medbay, patching up troopers and avoiding the piercing eyes of the CMO. These missions allowed you to get off the Venator, to see something other than cold durasteel walls or Coruscant’s light-polluted skyline. Although, it wasn’t all joy and happiness. 

The small village was still smoking, crumbled buildings littering the streets. What was once a quaint town had been reduced to ash and rubble. Family homes and community trademarks were unrecognizable and the occupants could only stand by and stare longingly. 

The 104th had been tasked with delivering supplies, offering medical assistance, and searching for hazardous materials from the crash. The Separatist ship had broken apart in the atmosphere but it was close enough for it to start raining down debris on the unsuspecting villagers shortly after. You glanced around as the Wolfpack made their way into the heart of the town, your eyes lingering on the tents scattered around. A small child stood at the edge of the road, wide-eyed wonder written all over his face as troopers wandered past. His young face was streaked with soot but nothing could dampen the amazement shining in his bright eyes.

“Hey.” You jumped, turning toward the voice only to stare back at your own reflection in his visor. You couldn’t fight the urge to glance back at the child one last time before giving Wolffe your undivided attention. 

“Yes, Commander,” you replied, hoping the smile you offered didn’t look as forced as it felt. Even if you couldn’t see them, you could feel Wolffe’s eyes studying your face and you did your best not to buckle under the weight. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah,” Wolffe replied and if you weren’t walking so close, you would’ve missed his soft sigh. Wolffe subtly turned his head, glancing around at the troopers walking in loose formation around him. The ghost of a smile crossed your face when you felt the muted brush of his fingers against your arm. 

“I’m alright,” you murmured, lightly bumping into him.

“For now,” he replied, almost quiet enough for you to miss. And he was right. Each step deeper into the smoldering remains of the village made your heart sink a little more. You took a long, deep breath, grimacing at the burnt taste that seemed to linger on your tongue. The second brush against your arm had you peering over at Wolffe, staring into his dark visor again as you blindly found his hand. He squeezed your fingers, a gentle reminder that you weren’t alone and you cherished the contact. 

It was going to be a long day.

It felt like you were going to fall over with the slightest gust of wind. Most of your day consisted of patching up the wounded in between passing out supplies. Everyone from children to the elderly had passed through your tent and each new person felt like another gut punch, draining more of your resolve. 

You glanced over your shoulder, noting that Sawbones was moving a bit slower too, and you braced your hands on the table in front of you. Staying in the med tent had let you keep your blinders on, saving yourself the heartache of watching of few of your boys carrying the lifeless bodies out of the rubble but you weren’t sure if it was actually better. Instead of seeing who you couldn’t save, you had to look into the eyes of the people they left behind. A small part of you found joy in helping them but nothing could take away the veil of grief that seemed the blanket them all. 

A harsh whistle cut through the air, making you jump hard enough to knock a box of bacta patches to the floor. You twisted around to find Sawbones watching you, his eyes narrowed slightly. 

“Yes, Bones,” you huffed, resting your hip against the table and crossing your arms. 

“What’s wrong with you?” You were too drained to contain your eye rolls, although, Sawbones’ blunt nature was nothing new to you. 

“Long day, same as you,” you replied, arching a brow. 

“That’s not all,” he countered, squinting at you. “Sp-” 

The sudden roar of voices from outside cut off the rest of his sentence and you both straightened. You shared a confused look with him before you broke into a jog with Sawbones on your heels. You sputtered the second you stumbled outside, blinking rapidly as you looked upward. The sky was hazing, a thick fog hanging over the village as rain pelted the ground, extinguishing the last of the fires littering the area. It took a few seconds for you to realize that the noise you had heard was the villagers celebrating. 

People of all ages were standing outside, smiling and cheering, rain soaking them to the bone but that didn’t seem to matter. Something as simple as a storm that, to you, would’ve felt like another kick to the face brought such joy to a village that nearly burned to the ground. You looked to your left, meeting Sawbones’ eyes before he looked out over the celebrating villagers. You could’ve sworn there was a faint smile on his face.

“Go rest. There’s nothing else we can do for them,” Sawbones murmured without looking at you. 

You thought about staying there but the rain was picking up, steadily soaking your clothing. Walking through the pockets of people filling the streets brought a wistful smile to your face, a smile that only grew as you watched the wolfpack join in. You found a supply tent on the edge of the settlement and ducked inside, shaking off any excess water clinging to your clothing.

The fabric of your shirt stuck to your skin, sending a chill across your skin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, glancing around at the crates of supplies, brightening a bit when you caught a glimpse of a GAR-issued blanket. The fabric was rough, meant for warmth over comfort but it was better than nothing. You wrapped the blanket around your shoulders as you wandered to the front of the tent again, holding the edges of the blanket under your chin so you could roll one of the flaps up. 

Lightning spiderwebbed across the sky, followed quickly by a loud clap of thunder that seemed to vibrate through your bones. There were easily a dozen things you could be doing but something about watching the unmatchable power of Mother Nature had you captivated. 

You were so absorbed in watching the rain that you didn’t hear the faint rustle from over your shoulder. A choked-off gasp fell from your lips and you tensed against the arms that wrapped around you. Your sluggish brain spiraled for a moment until you recognized the familiar vambraces and you sagged against him. 

“Hiding from all the fun, sweetheart,” Wolffe rumbled, kissing the crown of your head. 

“Says the man wearing a body glove that keeps him dry,” you teased, leaning back against Wolffe. 

“Mostly dry,” he corrected, his voice muffled as he hid his face against your neck. 

“Oh sorry, mostly dry.” The stress of your day still weighed heavily on you but the familiar press of Wolffe’s armor against your back brought you more comfort than you realized. A small smile lifted the corner of your mouth when he started to gently sway and you reached up to card through his damp hair. 

“How are you, darling?” And if that wasn’t a loaded question. You sighed, resting your temple against his head, letting yourself get lost in the rhythmic side-to-side movement for a moment. 

“I don’t know,” you finally confessed. Wolffe grunted quietly, urging you to continue. “I wish I could’ve done more.”

“You couldn’t have,” he argued gently, resting his chin on your shoulder.

“I know,” you whispered, letting your hand slip out of his hair and down his face. Your fingers brushed the end of his scar and you leaned away, twisting around enough to see his face. 

“Hey, cyare,” he murmured with a half-smile. 

“Hey,” you breathed, resting your forehead against his with a sigh and letting your eyes fall shut.

“I know you wish you could save everyone,” Wolffe mumbled, pausing to kiss your nose, “but you can’t. However, you did a whole lot of good for the people that are still here.”

“You think so?” You squeezed your eyes shut as you turned to face him, loosely hugging his waist. 

“I know so,” Wolffe said with so much conviction that you had a hard time not believing him. You hugged him a little tighter when he shifted and pressed a lingering kiss to your forehead. “That bleeding heart of yours is one of the many reasons I love you.” 

“So you do have a list.” Wolffe’s quiet snort brought a smile to your face. The light tap on the underside of your chin had your eyes fluttering open, staring up at his mismatched eyes. There was a fond little smile on his lips as his eyes flickered around your face. 

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Before you could answer with another lighthearted remark, Wolffe leaned down, finding your lips with ease. It was a tender kiss yet it held an intensity that you’d come to expect from Wolffe. You broke the kiss when your lungs burned, desperate for oxygen, and you rested your forehead against his again. 

“I love you,” you whispered, wrapping your arms around his neck. 

“I love you too.” Wolffe pecked your lips, starting to sway gently again, the pitter-patter of rain on the canvas tent acting as a melody.

The stress and heartache weren’t gone, far from it, but in that moment, wrapped in the arms of the man you loved, there was a light at the end of the tunnel. The promise of a future that made all the pain worth it.

Taglist: @a-single-tulip @wings-and-beskar @anxiouspineapple99 @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @sunshinesdaydream @moonlightwarriorqueen @msmeredithrose @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar (I thought you might like this 🫣)

[starqueensthings]

Ficlets inspired by Song Lyrics:

Crazy Girl, Don’t You Know That I Love You?

Song: “Crazy Girl” by Eli Young Band (country)

Rating/Warnings: 16+ for mildly suggestive themes | CW: anxiety, somewhat irrational fears of death.

POV/WC: 2nd | 1500ish.

A/N: something weird has come over me!! I’ve somehow managed to keep this to a one shot and not develop 300 pages of unnecessary lore!! Brevity?! Is that you?! I don’t think we’ve ever met before! Hi I’m Holly!

“Crazy girl, don’t you know that I love you? I wouldn’t dream of going nowhere. Silly woman, come here and let me hold you. Have I told you lately, I love you like crazy, girl?”

Other Written Works Here

“Ugh, I should get up.”

Sentiments leaving those lips in little more than a contemptuous growl, he’d uttered that necessity nearly a dozen times now while the chrono continued to tick the future ever closer. Though, as if waiting for some unseen, divine force to grasp his shoulders and simply heave him upward from the ineffable warmth and comfort of that squashy, blanket-laden bed, the only muscle spared that lassitude were the few required to drape his arm across your hips and tug you backward until your curves matched those of his chiseled form.

But his repeated probes for motivation acted as only merciless reminders of yet another imminent absence, and further intensified the plaguing sense of foreboding that had you either unwilling or unable to turn and face him; the near-painful constriction in your chest brought on by his incipient departure ensuring your thoughts remained only that, as voicing a response to that sleepy room – that dawdling soldier – threatened instead to escape your lips as little more than a sob.

“Kriff, I really need to get moving…”

The resolve to maintain any semblance of composed pride vanished as, instead of lifting his body from that white cotton sanctuary, he leant forward slightly and gifted the slope of your neck a series of chaste kisses; hearty sniffle instantly exposing your hidden turmoil as his unexpected display of adoration sent you careening into the harrowing pit of anxiety you’d desperately attempted to shirk.

It took even less than a breath for that newly-stubbled chin to cease its ministrations atop your skin. “Are you upset?” he asked you, the heat of his breath departing your neck as he tipped back to survey your seemingly unexpected demeanor. “What’s wrong?”

“M’fine,” you choked back at him, hurrying to dispel that wetness from your cheeks with a gruff swipe from the back of your hand.

“Nice try,” he argued, chin sinking only slightly as he glared through those dark lashes in your direction. “Roll over. Tell me what’s going on.”

For a moment you considered simply ignoring that polite command, as watching those mismatched eyes absorb the fear neath your features only promised to swaddle you with an embarrassment equi-paralyzing as your present anguish… but more powerful was the realization that those same eyes would be entirely absent for the foreseeable future, and neglecting the opportunity further memorize every inch of that slender, olive skinned face would present as nothing more than your deepest regret should you never see it again.

With a laden sigh, you shifted your weight and rolled over, perching your head atop a bent arm while your free hand traced thoughtless lines atop the small section of uninhabited sheet between your bare bodies.

“I’m just… Well I feel kinda… I dunno,” you started, nearly cringing at how juvenile those words sounded whilst spilling so meekly from your lips. “I just get scared sometimes… Ever since what happened on the Triumphant… Ever since all those men…”

“Mesh’la—”

“What if that happens again?”

”I’m an infantry Commander now, Mes—”

”Okay then what if it’s a bomb that drops out of nowhere? A bunch of droids you didn’t see? Bad intel from stale recon?”

“M—”

“Or what if you do something brash on your next mission because someone’s gone and pissed you off, and it ends up being your demise because you were too busy scowling to watch for an ambush? What happens then? Am I just supposed to go on living without you like that’s even possible?”

Cursing the way your chin quivered atop the divulgence of your fears, you paused for a breath, gaze refusing to depart the mindless squiggles your fingertip still insisted on embossing into the soft sheet between you. But that astute Commander, your loving boyfriend, refused to entertain any degree of distraction in that moment, hurrying to place a calloused hand atop your own to cease the relentless attempts at placating the exposed anxieties of its owner.

Finally meeting his gaze, you spluttered, “I don’t know what I’d do if I lost you. Every time you leave, it just feels like you’re not coming home.”

That soft hitch between dark brows released the tension they’d adopted whilst attempting to follow your desultory reasoning, eyes softening in earnest as they danced to and fro from the contours of your still-trembling chin to the small cataract of tears now escaping the corner of your eye and landing with muted thuds atop the bed next your elbow. But no sooner had that softness emerged was it replaced by an unprecedented levity… the corners of his mouth perking upward as he fought to repress the smirk vying to erupt across those lips.

“Why are you smiling?!” you demanded upon watching his eyes narrow neath crinkled lids, suddenly aghast at the gallish mirth doming his cheeks. “What the kriff is so funny?”

“Nothing,” he defended, only barely repressing the chortle nestled in his throat. “Nothing is funny. I’d tell you not to worry, but you’re not going to bel—”

“Ugh! Just forget it!”

Turmoil suddenly banished by a burgeoning indignation, you sat bolt upright atop that now unwelcoming bed, tossing the sheet from your form and burying your toes into the soft carpet. Ignoring his objection, you snatched your robe from its discarded perch on the floor and stuffed your arms impetuously into each sleeve, nose tipping ever higher into the air as your frustration grew amid every snickering objection still spilling from his lips.

“Ey!” he eventually called as your hand reached for the door of your bedroom, the sudden banishment of all humour neath his tone capturing your attention only enough to still your movements. “Come over here.”

Again, the urge to ignore him presented itself strongly, defiance flaring in your chest in the echoing wake of his amusement, narrowed eyes glaring fiercely at the otherwise austere wood door still barring your exit.

“Cyare,” he warned as your failure to accede his demand continued.

You peeked over your shoulder, that ire quickly dissipating upon first sight of his miraculous figure suddenly exposed and near-glowing amid the budding light of a quickly materializing dawn; that perfectly contoured chest heaving gently amid the deep breaths that had fuelled his shift in posture, the rolling hills of muscle neath his shoulders put on display by their perch atop equally as muscular thighs, one elbow sitting near impatiently on his knee.

Upon the return of your gaze, he clicked his tongue, free hand jabbing a pointed finger toward the floor directly in front of his seat atop the side of that bed, and, infuriatingly so, there wasn’t a force anywhere in the galaxy strong enough to keep your feet still once he’d resorted to non-verbal commands.

Gaze dropping to your hands, you returned to that bedside, standing between his knees and permitting a poignant sigh to blast past your scowling lips.

“I’m sorry I laughed,” he whispered, wrapping his arms around your waist and pulling you as close as the edge of the mattress would permit, and watching him gently perch his chin just above your navel and gaze lovingly up into your eyes had your stomach lurching, as if the floor below your feet had utterly vanished the moment his eyes locked upon yours. “And you know it kills me that you feel like that… but I need you to trust me.”

Swallowing the reemergence of the lump in your throat, you placed your hands atop his shoulders and nodded faintly.

“Trust that I’m good at what I do…” he continued, tightening the wreath of his arms around your body, seemingly preparing for the chance his words may see you hurtling from the room again. “Damn good. And you need to trust that everything I do, every decision I make while I'm out there, is to make sure I get back to you. I’m not going anywhere anytime soon, not permanently anyways. This… you… mean too much to me. Okay?”

Though you offered him another gentle nod, speech having been utterly stripped from your cognizance by his own heart-felt admission, he clicked his tongue again. “Say it,” he requested in little more than a whisper. “Say you understand and that you trust me.”

Desperate to commit that softened pleading look upon his face to memory, you stole a selfish moment just to gaze down into those asymmetric eyes, lips pursing as they threatened to release another unwanted sob.

“I trust you,” you breathed, guiding your hands to cup either side of that angular jaw, thumbs brushing softly across those supple cheeks. “And I love you.”

“Good,” he answered immediately, hands shifting to firmly clutch your ribs while he planted a kiss where his chin had just lain. “Now put those tears away and let’s get a nice hot shower before I have to go.”

“Ouuuu,” you cooed instantly, letting your eyelids flutter flirtatiously as he released you from his arms. “I’d love that. And if you hadn’t just laughed me out of the bed, I'd consider letting you join me.”

“Your inner brat doesn’t scare me, you know that,” Wolffe cautioned, darkened gaze now dancing hungrily across your semi-clothed form. “Now, get going before I put that mouth to another use.”

Other Written Works Here

Tag list: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @starrylothcat @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @wolffegirlsunite @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mythical-illustrator @arctrooper69 @somewhere-on-kamino

[yoitsjay]

Hey! Saw you were taking requests, and I wanted to drop some inspiration. I love both Commander Wolffe and Fox, so I would be thrilled with either. For the plot, I'm always a sucker for hurt/comfort/ romance fic. I'm thinking maybe our clone commander's significant other stumbles across evidence of Palpatine's involvement in the war and his plans for order 66. This obviously makes significant other a target, and ultimately has to be saved by their commander and squad. Maybe significant other is hurt somewhere along the way. Up to you. Everyone lives, except Palps, and the galaxy is saved. I live for happy endings haha 😄 💓. I'm so cliché I know, I've accepted it at this point haha 😄 😅 😆 If it's not your style feel free to ignore, no worries. 👍

I honesty have tried to write this fic like 10 times but nothing stuck for me so I'm just writing headcannons for both men and their reactions instead. Sorry this took so long!

Everyone lives yippee! Headcannons

Characters: Commander Wolffe and Commander fox x gn reader

Summary: palps dies, everyone lives, YIPPEE

Commander Wolffe:

You had found out about the clone inhibitor chips, and evidence of Palpatine being a sith lord before fives had also found out about the chips. You and him worked together to bring this to the senate and to make sure people believed you.

You were a senator so you had a bit more sway in your words. But of course Palpatine found out that you had the dirt on him so he sent people to try and execute you.

What he didn't count on was for the wolfpack, more specifically Commander Wolffe to have your back.

You survived mang assassination attemps until you had finally brought your evidence to the senate. Which ended up in palpatines execution by the jedi, which then also ended the war. The inhibitor chips were removed from every clone, and because of you they were allowed to live their own lives, whether that meant staying soldiers, or moving away from Coruscant to start families.

You and Wolffe decided to start your own little family, much to your joy.

Though you knew Wolffe was stress TF out when Palpatine was trying to kill you, pushing you out of the way of sniper shots nearly every day took a toll on the man.

Though at the end you held him close. He would always have you, no matter what.

You made sure he believed it too.

Commander Fox:

Finding evidence that Palpatine was an evil person, especially when Fox was your boyfriend?

Yeah both your lives were at risk

You knee Fox would always protect you, he loved you even though he couldn't always show it because of palpatine

Though as soon as you found out that Palpatine was a sith lord, Fox basically commanded his whole guard to refuse any orders from Palpatine and just straight up protect you because in that time you were most literaly the most important person on Coruscant.

Eventually you brought your evidence to the jedi council and the senate, and they voted for palpatines execution.

Poor bb fox

He was also stressed tf out trying to protect you all the time and himself on top of it.

After that whole ordeal you and Fox left the republic all together, went back to your home planet and settled down, now that you were allowed too anyway.

You held Fox for as long as he needed, reassured him for days that Palpatine was dead, and that he wouldn't hurt Fox, you, or any of his brothers ever again

Eventually he believed you. ♡

Fuck you Palpatine 😒

➺

Tag list

Wolffe tag:

Fox tag:

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All:

@moomoog017

[moomoog017]

headcannons ᯓᡣ𐭩 commander wolffe

commander wolffe x gn!reader

Guys this wasn't supposed to be so long... Enjoy!

One of his favorite things to do in private is for you to feel his muscles. Arms, chest, back, whatever it is he adores it. It boosts his ego and makes him feel special. He loves when you dote on how strong he is, it really gets him going. If you're muscular in places he will hype you up and tell you how strong you are. Feeling your muscles and pushing down on them he smirks. "Woah look atchu! So much muscle now (Y/n)!"

When he is in depth in a plan or thought, he comes to you for support and suggestions. When it's battle plans, he likes hearing your thoughts about it and will usually take your advice. He can't help but notice when you drop everything to help him. When it's NOT battle plans he likes to talk about life. He's not a big fan of the past but he will philosophize with you. He's quite the intellectual despite his exterior.

The man is a sucker for you when you take charge of literally anything. He likes it when you challenge his ideas or know something he doesn't. He would never admit it but he likes when you teach him something new. "Give it here, I'll show you." Wolffe rolls his eyes handing over the weapon. "There isn't a weapon I couldn't use." He states as a 'matter of fact. ' You chuckle. "Watch." A smirk crept on your face and you use the weapon with incredible accuracy. Wolffe's eyes widen. A blush is pushed onto his face, "yeah whatever, lucky shot."

Wolffe isn't exactly an empathetic person he's a tough love kinda guy. If you say anything bad about yourself he literally doesn't understand why because when he sees you, you're perfect. He genuinely gets confused and tries to tell you that your statements make no sense and are inaccurate. He will nag you until you think otherwise, if it's a real problem for you he's gonna catch on, he's smart.

If you are forcing yourself to stay awake especially for his sake he will put you to bed. Forcefully if he must. He cares so much and when you're healthy you're happy, that's all he wants for you. He sometimes neglects his health like sleeping for you, he will always provide for you first. He is selfless. "Wolffe! I'm fine." Wolffe sighs, you wanna play? Let's play." His gruff voice and dangerous eyes burning through you. He lunges and grabs you, hoisting you in his arms. Wolffe happily smirks at his victory.

OMFG STRUT YOUR STUFF. HE WILL EAT THAT SHIT UP. He loves when you're confident in yourself it makes him crazy, like bro is barking.

When you're stubborn he's all over you he can't stand it when you challenge him or don't do what you're told he kinda enjoys it but he won't tell you that.

You can't peck him on the lips without him pulling you back and embracing in a passionate kiss, living in war is always risky, one day it's possible he won't come back. He needs to make sure you know he loves you every time him or you leaves.

When you work up a sweat whether just existing or doing something physically he loses it. Just the smell of you makes him wanna grab and make out with you. ESPECIALLY if it's sparing with him.

Wolffe is always grateful when you give him stuff but no matter how expensive or cool it is nothing beats the experiences you guys have together. He will remember those forever and they mean so much to him.

He has developed this habit of grabbing your cheek and pinching it. He doesn't do it hard but it's a way for him to say 'I love you' without saying it in front of the other men. He gets a little embarrassed sometimes, he's got to maintain his tough guy image.

At first he was self conscious about his scar, it brings him bad memories but he always plays it off that he doesn't care but it still haunts him sometimes. When you two were close enough to feel comfortable with touching each other, the first place you felt was his scar. He knew he wasn't 'pretty' but you didn't care. He felt the softness of his scar and he felt something he hadn't in a very long time. Security. But when you kissed his scar all the way down his face, he just about lost it. He felt your care and compassion through your kisses and he never wanted it to stop.

Whenever you're passionate he's passionate. He might not show it very well but the way he looks at you says it all. The slight smirk in his face, like it's going to turn into a smile. The scrunch of his eyes shows you happiness. The same goes for when you're fired up because of something, he LOVES when you speak your mind, get a little cocky or sarcastic.

[vodika-vibes]

Hello Vodika!

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

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

His Colors

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

Word Count: 2041 in total

Warnings: Some suggestive comments and actions

Tagging: @trixie2023 @n0vqni @imabeautifulbutterfly

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

Commander Cody x Reader - Orange at 79s

Cody’s mouth goes dry when he sees her.

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

And it’s orange.

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

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

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

Her smile brightens, “You like?”

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

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

“Yeah?”

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

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

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

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

Commander Wolffe x GN!Reader - Grey at the Park

You’re late. You’re very late. 

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

But you’re still late.

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

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

It’s enough to make you want to cry.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And your face burns with flustered embarrassment.

You suppose he likes it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You need to work out more.”

“Do not.”

“Do too.”

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

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

His little bird is wearing his colors.

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

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

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

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

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

“Fox—”

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

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

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

Commander Bly x F!Reader - Yellow at sunset

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

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

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

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

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

“Bly?”

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

And there she is.

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

And clad in a dress in his colors.

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

Well, not really.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Bly!”

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

“Thank you.”

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

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

Commander Neyo x F!Reader - Burgundy at the Winery

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

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

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

He’s not wrong, of course.

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

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

Hopefully, he’ll like it.

Hopefully, he still likes you.

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

He’s nursing a glass of wine.

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

You can tell when Neyo sees you.

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

Well, welcoming for him, at least.

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

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

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

You tilt your head, questioningly.

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

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

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

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

[a-single-tulip]

Just the Right Way

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x GN!Reader

Summary: Following a night spent with Wolffe, you wake up the day after feeling a bit sore after the roughness of the night before, something that Wolffe feels rather apologetic over. You reassure him that while he was rough with you, you rather enjoyed his treatment of you during your night spent together.

Warnings: Ficlet, Established Relationship, Morning After, Bite Marks, Bruising, Implied sexual content, Mentions of rough sex

Word Count: 995

A/N: Another ficlet for today for none other than the ever so handsome Commander Wolffe! This is my first time officially writing him for a fic, so hopefully I've done him justice!

As usual, I tagged accordingly on AO3, so make sure to read all the tags on there carefully, and if you don't vibe with any of them feel free to skip out on this fic. While this fic doesn't have any inherent smut, the discussions and themes in it are still for mature audiences only, so minors DNI!

Tag List: @wizardofrozz, @hetalianskywalker, @techs-feral-wife, @starrylothcat [hmu and lemme know if any of y'all wanna be added to my tag list]

[clone-anon]

I saw a while back you wrote about Tech and a plus size female reader and was wondering if you could do something similar but with Wolffe. I use self-depricating humor about my body a lot and I'm trying to stop, but it's hard. People in my life have always been hard on me about my weight and I want to beat them to the punch when it comes to punchlines about it. Thank you and there is zero rush on this

I'll give it a try. I added some elements from the story you referenced and tried to write this so it could be read for gender neutral reader, platonically or romantically.

Warnings: self-deprecating humor and negative self-talk, insecurity

You tried on a new tunic, wrapping it around your middle and seeing how it laid. You picked up your arms and moved around, checking your stance and making sure it was comfortable no matter how you moved. Wolffe walked and saw you in front of the mirror.

Smiling, he said, "Looks like you're ready to take on the whole Empire."

"I haven't ripped the seams yet, so seems I ready to go," you replied with a smile.

Wolffe's own smile dropped and you realized you'd done it again. You were trying your hardest to stop the negative talk, but old habits were hard to break. You looked at him almost repentantly and he took your hand and brought you to a bench. Sitting next to him, he put his other hand up, knowing you were about to apologize.

"I know you're trying to stop that kind of talk," he said, still unsure of how to help. "Cyare, you would never say such a thing to me. Why say it about yourself?"

"But you're not big like I am," you answered in a whisper. "You're not fat."

"Why does that matter," he asked, squeezing your hand. "You don't deserve to be talked down to because of your size. I know others have before, but they were wrong. They were so wrong." He saw you were unable to make eye contact. "Hey, look at me."

Your eyes stayed staring at the floor for a moment, but you couldn't help but be drawn in. His brown eye and ocular implant were both fixed on you, his look warm, inviting, and protective.

He very firmly added, "If anyone were to talk down to you, they wouldn't be talking anymore when I'm through with them." He reached out to hug you and you stiffly embraced him. You were still unsure about anyone really touching you and feeling your body, although the hug was welcome.

"Come here," he said, pulling you in closer. He squeezed you and rested his cheek against your head as you buried your face against his neck. He wasn't always sure exactly how to put things into words, but he tried his best.

"I love everything about you. You're a wonderful listener. You're brave and strong. You always try my cooking and your honest feedback helps me get better. You're smart and beautiful and feel so soft and warm. I love that. I love that your body is different. I love this vessel that is yours to call home."

As he spoke, you started to relax more in his arms. While he had a sarcastic streak sometimes, you knew that right now he was being sincere. You hugged him a little closer and allowed yourself the thought that you were fine the way you were and maybe you could be loved along with your body, not in spite of it.

"Thank you, Wolffe," you replied, muffled against him.

"I'm always here for you."

[siriuslydying]

can I have a singer!reader x Alex wolff (or even just general actor!celeb) fic :)

I am not really a fan of this actor but I did my best! Hope you like it!

Alex Wolff× gn!singer!reader

Behind the spot light

The interview only started a few minutes ago, but there was already some "too personal" questions.

-So, Mr Wolff, there's a lot of rumors circuling about you and your costar's, Morgan Turner, sibling.

This comment caught him off guard.

-Oh really? I didn't know about that...

The interviewer grin at his uncomfortable answer and continue talking with a mischevious voice.

-Since a picture of you two holding hands in Central Park went viral, a lot of rumors started spreading about you being in a potencial relationship.

-I... I mean- We... well...

The grining woman didn't let him finish.

-We asked the same question to Mx Turner, the famous singer, during an interview and this is their answer.

The screen behind them start playing the interview you gave to a local TV chanel.

-So, is it true that you and the actor Alex Wolff are in a relationship?

You start blushing but answer with a confident tone after a long pause.

-I mean... We all have a life behind the spots lights....

[toomanybandstocare]

{Candy Cane Cupid}

Program: Holidays come around every year with mixed emotion. Excitement buzzes as clones celebrate their first Life Day with their partners after the war. Disappointment is pushed to the back of your mind as you keep yourself busy at work while your riduur is away. Mischief is in the air when Cupid finally reveals his holiday surprise for you.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Bartender, GN! Reader

Genre: Hurt/Comfort

Length: 2017w

Warnings: Mention of candy cane, alcohol + club scene, bittersweet emotions around the holidays, barely edited bc my brain is v smooth from work, probs slight out of character Wolffe (see counselor note below), barely edited as usual oops

Camp Resolute Masterlist

ClonexReader Masterlist

For the lovely @sinfulsalutations - Happy fic exhange and holiday season! I hope you enjoy. ^_^ I tried to make it a lil Hallmark moment. Part of the Life Day Exchange for @cloneficgiftexchange hosted by Ghost.

Prompt: 79s For @clonexreaderbingo event hosted by Ghost.

Counselor Note: I apologize if it's not that festive or good. Been in a funk as of recently, but I had fun writing this and trying to explore Wolffe as a character more. I know he's more stoic and serious in canon, but I wanted to explore how he would balance happiness, relaxation, and the familiarity of pulling rank during post war.

It seems like all of Coruscant has decided to spend the evening out amongst the city levels for holiday celebrations. Still only a year since the Clone Wars were won, everyone carries a warm happiness and joyfulness as they weave through club lines with their friends. Former troopers gather in boisterous groups outside of clubs, eagerly waiting for their first Life Day celebration. The usual clubbers are surrounded by new faces who easily share their nervousness and excitement for what the night may bring.

79s, normally vibrant with yellow and orange neon lights, now welcome tonight’s guests with more festive colored lighting and music. Even the tired club staff seem to be able to find one last bit of energy to push through the night with the holiday cheer.

The tips of your fingers sting from gripping the chilled shaker as your gaze flits across the crowd of dancers and party goers. The small semblance of hope that you kept tucked away deep in your heart slowly sizzles when you can’t find a gray battalion ribbon in the crowd of troopers. Red ribbons pack tightly into a booth as they play a game of Sabbac and try to teach their partners. Blue ribbons spread across the dance floor as they find dates for the evening. Orange ribbons stick close to the end of the bar as they share a flight of beer and stories. Not a single gray ribbon in the crowd to be found tonight. Your chest constricts, squeezing all the air out of your lungs in disappointment. The last flicker of hope fizzles and stings your heart. Hitting the shaker against the bartop harder than intended, you pour a bright blue cocktail into its glass and slide it over to a giggling patron. You watch with yearning as she’s pulled into the side of her partner, who sports a green ribbon, before they maneuver through the growing mass of people to join their friends.

“Still no sign of Wolffe?” Kiva carefully asks. Walking past you from the side entrance of the bar with a crate of seasonal beer, he squats down to the small fridge at the base of the bar shelves. He looks up at you with a concerned expression as he slides the fridge door open.

“He said he wasn’t even sure if he was going to be in the system even after Life Day,” you casually explain. Darting your tongue over your bottom lip, you shrug and turn to grab a new drink slip. Unable to meet Kiva’s all too familiar sympathetic gaze, you grab the mixers and spirits for the next order. Your heart races out of rhythm to the upbeat songs pulsing through the club. As the liquids spill into your new shaker, your stomach knots and twists leaving agony to swim through your body.

“I don’t even know why I’m bothering to look for him. The last we spoke, he and Plo Koon were just summoned to attend the peace accords on Soreno,” you breathlessly ramble. Once the final words tumbles past your lip, your throat tightens and you slam the top of the shaker shut before Kiva can reassure you.

Guilt stings the back of your neck as you shake the drink above your shoulder. The day that Wolffe shared that he was reinstated as a Marshall Commander, you immediately called for celebration. All his closest brothers and your friend group filled into a bar just down the street from your shared home. It wasn’t until the two of you fell into bed and silence separated you from Wolffe’s bliss that you realized the two of you wouldn’t have a different life after the war. Wolffe would still be systems away from you a majority of the time. The realization sank in further when he couldn’t wish you a happy birthday in person with the rest of your loved ones. A solemn understanding was made when he missed your two year anniversary to help with an aid mission. The mundane moments and memories you had hoped to create with Wolffe were nothing like the ones that your friends share of their partners' first year away from the GAR.

Not even realizing that you had slowed your actions, a gentle hand takes the shaker from yours and pours it into the glass in front of you. With a sigh, you face Kiva’s kind, understanding expression after he slides the drink over to a trooper with a yellow ribbon.

“Give him a call. Maybe you’d be surprised by the answer?” he softly encourages. Hope and mischief dance across his face while he grabs your hand to pull you away from the order line.

“Why would I do that when I already know the answer?” you tiredly push back. Fatigue and numbness wrap around your bones, and you can only stumble after Kiva out of the bar. “It’s not even my break yet for the second half. Not to sound too pessimistic, but I’d rather just work the doubles if I can’t spend the holidays with my partner”.

“Well,” Kiva exclaims, “Call me your candy cane cupid, because I have a surprise for you.” He winks and pulls you through the group of women with glittering dresses and warm sweaters.

Your heart hammers against your eardrums at Kiva’s words. “What do you mean?” you hastily ask. Kiva’s laughter mixes with the music while the two of you weave through the clusters of clones towards the CO table, a now long standing tradition at 79s even after the war. When you break through the last wall of party goers, the entire club blurs around you.

Kiva steps to your side, and the booth is empty with all but one person sitting behind the table with two glasses of Corellian whiskey. Ambient lighting dances across Wolffe’s tired expression, and you can just make out the small smile pulling at the corner of his lips. One that only makes a fleeting appearance when you’re nearby or mentioned in conversation.

“Happy Life Day,” Kiva expresses with a beaming smile, “Now go celebrate and enjoy the holiday festivities”.Before you can even thank him, Kiva shoots you a wink and disappears into the crowd once more. 

You watch in disbelief as that rare smile grows across Wolffe’s face while he moves out of the booth.Without a second thought, you stumble through the last few troopers wearing gray ribbons to throw yourself into Wolffe’s arms. “I thought you said you weren’t going to be home until after the holiday,” you choke out into his chest. Warm amber and musk mix to create Wolffe’s signature cologne, and you press yourself further into his embrace. His calloused hands roam across your back leaving sparks in their wake even when separated by your clothing.

“Your friend cupid has his ways,” Wolffe chuckles. His heart hammers as he reacquaints himself with your touch. How it feels to have his riduur in his arms once more. How the sound of your voice eases every worry from his mind. How being with you feels like home. Sliding his hands to your waist, he carefully pulls you from his body to fully be able to see you. Wolffe admires the small changes in your appearance as hues of blue, gold, and purple dance across your face. For just a moment, everything feels at peace. The anxiety of moving to another system in a few cycles disappears. None of the teasing remarks from his younger brothers get under his skin. Only you matter, and all the tension from his body dissipates. “Sorry, I got distracted. How are your eyes so pretty?” he murmurs almost to himself.

“Didn’t know you could be such a sap,” you sniffle with a light laugh. “You still haven’t answered my question.”

Wolffe’s smile softens with remorse. “I know I haven’t been around as much as either of us had hoped. And I know I’ve let you down when I’ve missed important milestones for us this year. I wanted to make sure we could spend our first Life Day together,” he explains.

“I don’t want you to feel like you’ve done anything wrong,” you rush to assure him. Tears sting your lasline from the overwhelming storm of emotion raging inside you. When you move to wipe the stray tears escaping, Wolffe tenderly cups your cheek with his hand. His calloused fingertip carefully traces the planes of your face and wipes away the tear from your cheek.

“I don’t,” Wolffe reassures you. “I know that this isn’t what we had imagined for either of our lives after the war, and I don’t want us to drift apart because of that. I’m here because I need you to understand that nothing is going to stop me from coming home to you. Nothing was going to stop me from spending Life Day with you this year or any year in the future, alright?”

All the loneliness and yearning from the cycles spent alone crash down onto you. Tears freely fall down your cheeks as you tuck yourself into the crook of Wolffe’s neck. “I’ve missed you so much,” you admit. “I didn’t want to say anything, because I know how much Plo and the GAR means to you, but I’ve missed you so much.” Your voice breaks at the end of your confession, and you pull away from his body to wipe your tears from your face.

“I’ve missed you, cyar’ika. More than you could imagine,” Wolffe mumbles into the top of your head. His heart stings at your cries, and he wraps his arms around you in a tight embrace. “I’m home now. It’s going to be okay, yeah? We’re going to figure this out”.

You let Wolffe guide you into the booth, and the two of you settle into the far corner. Draping your legs over his lap, you tuck yourself into his side and look at him in adoration. “We’re both a mess without each other, huh? Have absolutely no idea what to do without the other,” you tease. Wolffe chuckles and nods after taking a sip of his whisky. He ducks his head to press his lips to the shell of your ear and whispers: “Tell anyone and we may just have to leave early.” His warm breath tickles across your neck, and he squeezes your thigh as the rest of the Wolfpack join you with their partners.

For the first time during the holiday season, you’re able to sink into Wolffe’s arms and enjoy the company around you. Not a single member of the pack or their partners neglect to see how you’ve been. Plans begin to easily come into creation to squeeze in a few more holiday outings for you and Wolffe to join. A glimpse of the life that you hoped to create with Wolffe after the war finally playing out. Yet, it wouldn’t have happened if it weren’t where you were currently at in life.

During a bout of laughter, you look over to Wolffe and find him already gazing at you with that all too familiar smile tugging at his lips. You cup his jaw and press a fleeting kiss to the corner of his mouth. Pulling away, the two of you share a look of adoration before sharing a soft kiss in the privacy of your own world. The two of you fall into rhythm with each other as if no time had passed. Lost in the moment, it’s not until his brothers start to howl and their partners tell them to leave you and Wolffe alone that the two of you break from the kiss.

“Mind your damn business,” Wolffe barks back to his snickering brothers. “How many times did I turn a blind eye to when you brought back your cy’are to the barracks?” Instantly the snickers silence as the older brothers laugh at the young clones.

Rolling his eyes as the conversation redirects to tomorrow’s outing, Wolffe pulls you closer into his side. Pressing a tender kiss to your temple, he rests his forehead against yours. “Happy Life Day, riduur”.