#command Wolffe x jedi reader

[rexmeshlasblog]

Give up?!

Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader

Summary: Jedi Reader wants to train during shore leave, ‘cause she got defeated by Ventress on their last mission. Commander Wolffe offers himself as her sparring partner.

Word count: 1700 words

Warnings: feelings, fluff, battle, fighting, war, use/mentioning of guns and war stuff, use of Y/N, Female MC, mentions of loss, intimate moment, cuteness, sexual tension, flirting, teasing, scared of losing in a match and losing people, bit angsty maybe?, Canon typical violence

A/N: Let me know if you like how I write Wolffe and what I could do better. (Not just with character arc but also with my writing style) thank you for reading.

Ps I just found this in my drafts from like a year ago and thought its time to finally post it.

Where the kriff was he? Commander Wolffe, my sparring partner on this evening, was late for our first session. Normally he was always in time, but today, when the 104th left the cruiser for shore leave, he wasn’t.

I was walking up and down the training room while waiting. Biting my lip and clenching my fists over and over again. It made me more anxious than it should, that he made me wait for him.

Maybe he just forgot our arrangement, which consisted of him training with me my hand to hand combat skills, but I hoped he didn’t. I needed him to get better and back in my original shape.

Our last mission was a pretty tough one. We lost good men and friends. They were a part of this family and I wasn’t good enough to safe all of them. It was a misery.

To our surprise Ventress was with the droid army and I had to fight against her. While I tried my best to protect my men and myself I wasn’t able to defeat the woman with her red lightsabers. She was too strong and I too distracted at the wrong moment. Which she used.

Master Plo Koon was the one who had to save me. Luckily he came right in time as Ventress was about to shatter my heart. She nearly killed me and when I closed my eyes just a bit I still felt the heat of her lightsaber on my skin.

A shiver ran through me. It was a close one this time. Death was never as near as in this exact moment. Her lightsaber was on me and ready to slide right through. Thats what this thing was made for, but still I quite couldn’t believe how fast I could’ve been dead. There were screams around me from different troopers. Barking commands. It was Wolffe who screamed my name as Ventress was about to kill me. I’d looked at him as he tried to reach me, but he was way too far away to save me. As I reached through his force signature I just felt pure panic and angst. We held eye contact for what felt like forever before I noticed the figure appearing behind me. My old beloved Master was the hero in last minute. After all I came away with a scar on my chest. Lucky me.

The day after, when I still had to be in the medbay, the Commander offered me to train with him. At least for the time in shore leave. Then we’d see how much progress I made and decide if I’d still need his training, but I was confident that I’d need it. Obviously I would ask him to keep training with me, not just, because I wanted to stay in shape and don’t want to get killed as easily. But also because I kinda had a thing for the grumpy Commander with just one original eye.

“There you are”, I greeted him with a small smile.

Wolffe finally arrived only grunting something, which you could call one of his friendlier greetings. I was grateful that he didn’t seem in the baddest mood. Surprising that I could tell by now how his mood was depending on how he grunted and furrowed his eyebrows. Wolffe was a grumpy one and so you had to check the waters before you let the cat slip out of the bag. When I saw him hours ago he was shouting at some Shinies which broke the caf machine. A hilarious picture to look at. Wolffe had this big furrow between his eyebrows and that annoyed look in his eyes and was obvious on the edge of his nerves while the Shinies looked like they wanted to run away as fast and as wide as they were able to do.

Wolffe was only in his blacks as I noticed now. Showing off his muscles and letting zero to the imagination. I gulped feeling the heat in my cheeks growing. Kriffing maker.

“What would you like to start with, General?”, he asked politely. His voice sounded deeper than normally. If he noticed my darkening cheeks, he didn’t say anything about it.

“Maybe some simple sparring? Just starting easy in this session.“ Starting easy. Yes, for sure.

Wolffe only nodded. I knew that the clones were good at fighting. Not just with their blasters, but also with their hands and body’s. So it was clear that it would be a difficult task to defeat Wolffe.

A few seconds later I was already on the floor again. I stopped counting after the fifth time. And I was a Jedi? Not even able to protect myself without my lightsaber and the force. How should I protect others then?

Above me Wolffe smirked a grin right out of hell. He was enjoying this far too much. 

“Already giving up, General?“ One eyebrow raised a smile tugged at the corner of his lips. There was a sparkle in Wolffes eyes one I rarely saw and which he only showed when he was truly in the mood for some fun.

“You think I’m defeated after a few times on the ground? Then you don’t know me well enough, Commander.“ With a simple jump I was right back on my feet. My arms in front of me in a defensive position. Wolffe switched into fighting position right away, but not before giving me a sarcastic eye roll. He really was one of a kind.

“Then we keep going.“ Wolffe murmured more to himself.

Half an hour was going by. Wolffe only hitting the floor a few times when I remembered some old Jedi tricks from time to time. But now, while he was also slowly losing his power, his movements were slower and less precise. A advantage I’d happily use. I had saved my strength to be able to counterattack at the right moment, when he’d get more tired.

Just as Wolffe was about to punch me in the stomach, a spot I had deliberately left uncovered, I grabbed his other arm, twisted it behind his back and threw him to the ground, all while also pulling his feet away. Too bad I hadn't calculated that he could pull me along with him, because that's exactly what he did. Wolffe grabbed my jedi robe and I fell right with him to the floor. Me above him. For a second I hesitated before I used the position to pin his arms and legs with my own. I got him. The big bad Wolffe was defeated.

“Give up?“ I asked out of breath. Wolffes breathing was as heavy and loud as my one while his chest brushed over mine with every deep breath he and I took. I felt his breath on my lips. His pupils were blowing wide and sweat visible on his forehead. He smelled better than I expected. More like himself and less like everyone else on the ship. More like the real Commander and not the cheap lemon soap the Clones got.

As I noticed now he was wearing a small smirk again. “You should know better.“ And with that he used his power and rolled us over. Now he was on top of me. One of his legs between mine while he pinned my hands above my head. Wolffe was obviously stronger and every attempt to break free failed.

“Give up, Mesh`la?“ Eyebrows raised and a confident smile was all I could see. Kriff, he really got me now. Unless I’d use this situation and my body to my advantage.

“I don’t know, you tell me Wolffe“, I whispered against his lips.

Wolffe growled under his breath before he brushed his lips against mine. Now I got him where I wanted.

“You’re doing things to me you don’t know ‘bout“, he mumbled deeply and I was sure that he felt my heart drumming against his chest. Wolffe had this special power over me and it was clear that I made him feel the same way. We never spoke about our feelings, but we both knew, that this between us was something more than a friendship. Maybe a dangerous game, because if anyone found out about our mutual feelings, they would take each other away from us. After the war, I always told myself, maybe after the war there’d be an opportunity to get together, but not now.

Wolffes hands which pinned mine loosened its grip while one of it went straight to my waist. His eyes were hooded and his breath was quicker than usual. The Commander really thought our little game was over.

“Maybe you should tell or show me then.“

His breath hitched after my respond, “I don’t want to scare you off.“ His eyes were showing pain I’d never seen in them before. Was he scared of losing me? He could never. I knew about his reputation. He was the big bad wolf the little Shinies and other clones were afraid of. But I wasn’t scared of his hard case. I actually adored it. It made him intriguing.

“I’m a Jedi. It’s not easy to scare me off, Wolffe. And you’re definitely not someone I could ever be scared of.“

He shrugged, wanting to say something, but before he could, I wrapped my legs around his hips and turned us over once again.

“Who has the upper hand now?“ I smirked. This time pining him, so he couldn’t roll us over once again.

“Looks like you won this time, Cyare.“

“Obviously, Commander.“

I got up to my feet, before giving Wolffe a helping hand which he agreed to take. This little moment between us was over.

“But I don’t think the Clankers will fall for a move as such.“ Was all he said all while giving my butt a little smack, as I was slowly walking away. All I could do was smirk. Typical Wolffe.

I winked at him, “You aren’t one of the Droids and also, it was a move I specially made up for you.“

Wolffe crossed his arms, not before giving me one last of his typical eye rolls. “See ya, Wolffie.“

I heard him chuckle while walking away. Excited how our next interaction would go on.

[starrylothcat]

Hey hey! Love your writing!

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

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

Distractions - NSFW Headcanons with Cody, Wolffe, and Rex

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

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

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

WC: Around 2,000 total (bullet points)

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

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

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

💛 Cody 💛

He is a tough man to crack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“You’re not getting away with this.”

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

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

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

It was too late now.

“Cody, please, I need-“

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

🖤 Wolffe 🖤

The image you projected was absolutely filthy.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Got him.

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

You knew you were in for it after the meeting.

That was the entire point.

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

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

There was no escape.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes…Commander.”

“Good girl.”

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

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

Wolffe released your wrists, your hands finally free.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

💙 Rex 💙

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

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

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

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

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

You ignored his pleading glance, changing the vision.

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

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

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

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

Finally, the meeting ended.

You exited the room, Rex quickly walking past you.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Oh, he liked it.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You could feel Rex smirk against your skin.

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

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

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

“Rex…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And his cock wasn’t even inside you yet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

[oceansssblue]

SW REQUESTS:

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

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

"RADIO SILENT" –WOLFFE/F READER

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Your lips pull up on a tiny smirk.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You give Sinker a firm nod.

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

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

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

You open your coms to inform of the new situation.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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

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

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

There was only static.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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

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

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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

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

"Are you hurt too, Wolffe?"

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

"No" he simply answers, observing you quietly.

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

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

Wolffe's expression doesn't change.

"You went radio silent" he answers, quietly.

You arch an eyebrow.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

His voice is a secret whisper as well.

"Ni kar'tayli gar darasuum, cyare".

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

You imprint those five mandalorian words in your soul.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

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

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

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

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

Xx,

Sky.

Back to main masterlist here!

[kaminocasey]

In the Tide

Summary: A soft moment is shared between two commanders on a beach.

Pairing: Jedi!Reader x Wolffe

Warnings: 18+ MINORS DNI; Partial nudity? Soft!Wolffe, reader gets self conscious about body, Jedi!Reader

WC: 1.5K

A/N: I didn't write this with a part 2 particularly in mind, but lemme know if I should write one! Obviously this isn't for everyone, and that's alright. <3 :) (pics from pinterest)

TAGLIST FORM │Wolffe Playlist

For the first time in weeks, you get to feel the sun kiss your skin once again. It’s been so long since you’d gotten to bask in any sort of sunlight. And now, since you have a few days of rest, you’ve gone trekking through the woods until you’re met with an endless blue on blue. A cloudless blue sky and an ocean so turquoise, you could cry. What a gorgeous sight. 

Closing your eyes and reaching out into the force around you, you make sure that you’re safe and there are no threats, but nothing makes itself known. As you drop your pack, you pull out a blanket and set it down on the warm sand, kicking off your boots first, smiling at the feel of it trickling between your toes. Then, you take off your robes, and your under clothes until you’re in just your undergarments. As you start walking toward the ocean, you feel a familiar presence and you stop, turning toward him.  

“Commander?” Wolffe stands in front of you, eyeing your nearly naked form. 

You cross your arms, slightly self conscious. “Oh, Commander Wolffe. You found me.” 

He notices the change in your body language and looks away. 

“Is everything okay? Am I needed back at base?” You ask, prepared to throw your robes back on. 

“No, ma’am. I just… wanted to make sure you were safe.” He stands awkwardly with his arms at his side, but his hands fidget slightly, like he’s not sure what to do. 

“Oh. That’s nice of you. There’s nothing threatening on this beach.” You smile, teasingly. “Except perhaps yourself.”

You don’t miss the slight huff of a laugh that he’d never let anyone other than his brothers and Master Plo Koon hear. It’s a nice sound and you like his smirk. 

“Did Plo send you?” You start to wiggle your toes in the sand again. 

“No, he didn’t. I came on my own.” He looks at you again and you can’t help but grin.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you might care about me, Wolf- Commander.” You tease, sitting down on the blanket and pat the spot next to you.

He looks back toward the treeline, perhaps to make sure no one else was coming, and then starts to unclick his plastoid armor. Slightly entranced, you can’t seem to look away. And when you look up at his face, you find his eyes never leaving your face. A heat that’s hotter than the sun creeps through your veins at the realization. 

Your mouth goes dry the moment he strips down to just his briefs, causing you to quickly look away toward the horizon as he sits next to you on the blanket. You’d never seen a clone without clothes before, but you know you’re never gonna forget how toned Wolffe is. How his tanned skin practically gleams in the bright sun. 

There’s always been a sort of trust between you and Wolffe. He didn’t find you incompetent like a lot of the Jedi. He’d never say as much, but he didn’t trust many of them. Perhaps just you, Master Plo Koon, and Master Kenobi. But you always felt there was possibly something more than trust between the two of you. It could just be in your head, though. 

“I wish I could see this every day.” You murmur, crossing your legs. 

“I hate the ocean.” Wolffe tells you, honestly.

“Why’s that?” You ask, looking at him.

His eyes, one brown, one cybernetic, are focused on yours. 

“Reminds me of Kamino.” He shrugs.

You suppose that’s understandable. You’d only heard rumors of the extensiveness that the higher rank clones had to go through. 

“So, swimming with me is off the table?” You ask, smiling. 

His face is serious as ever as he looks out at the calm waves. “Not safe.” 

“Can you see that with that eye of yours?” You tease. 

He smirks, amused. “Sure.” 

You let out a disappointed huff and fall back on the blanket, letting the warm sun wash over you. When you open your eyes, landing on Wolffe, you notice him staring at your bare stomach. Immediately self conscious, you cross your arms over your stomach but his hands stop you. 

“Don’t.” He murmurs, softly. 

“What?” Your mouth goes dry again.

“Don’t cover up…” He whispers, placing your wrist to your side. “You don’t need to do that. Not with me.”

“O-okay.” You can’t look away from him now. 

You sense desire roll over him and if you weren’t already laying down, you’re pretty sure the full force of his desire would be enough to knock you over. Does he know that you can sense these things? Surely with Plo Koon as his general, he does. 

“Wolffe?” You whisper, softly. 

He’s looking at your lips now and the absolute fire that was coursing through your veins only moments ago makes its way much, much lower. With parted lips, you reach up for Wolffe, ghosting your fingers down his muscular bicep. He stops your hand with his own and holds it there. 

You’re not sure how long you stare at each other like that. Can he sense the desire radiating from you? Does he know you well enough by now? You hope so.

A beeping comes from both your comms, indicating you’re needed back at base. With a breathless, yet annoyed, huff, Wolffe lets go of your hand and pressing the button on both of your comms to let them know you both got the message. 

He stands up and hands you your clothing, turning around to give you a moment of privacy while he also dresses and clicks his armor into place. The intimate moment between you is long gone as you realize you have to go back to reality. 

As you pack the blanket back up, grabbing your pack, you look back out at the ocean for another moment and when you turn around, you find Wolffe staring at you again. 

“Wha-” You start but he cuts you off by running his hand around your lower back to pull you against himself. 

You look up into his eyes and realize he’s waiting for you to tell him to stop, but you want this just as bad, if not more. 

“Please…” You whisper, glancing at his lips.

That’s all the confirmation he needed as he gently brushes his lips over yours. It’s not exactly what you were expecting. You were expecting quick roughness. Like his fighting style. This is… leisurely soft. Like he has all the time in the world to do this. You wish you did. Finding yourself kissing him back, you drop your pack back into the sand and wrap your arms around his neck, clinging to him. To this moment. 

“I’ve… wanted to do that for some time now… Commander.” He smiles ever so slightly. 

“I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been thinking about it as well.” You smile up at him, cupping his cheek, softly. 

He rests his head against yours for just a moment and then lets go of you. “We should head back.” 

You nod in agreement and pick your pack up as he picks his helmet up out of the sand, dusting it off and tucking it under his arm as you start your trekk back through the woods. 

Then, Wolffe surprises you again. He offers his free arm and you can’t help the little flip in your stomach as you hide your smile and take it, wrapping your hands around the cool plastoid. How is it so cool after being in the sunlight? 

You want to ask him so many things. But you know he’s a man of few words, and you definitely don’t want to annoy him. 

“Can I ask you something?” He surprises you again and asks. 

“Oh. Of course.” You nod. 

“Did you know?” He asks, looking down at you.

“Know what?” You give him a confused look.

“About my feelings for you?” He stops to stand in front of you. 

“I um… had my suspicions… in a way.” You smile up at him, taking his hand. 

He nods. “I’m not used to this…” 

“I know. It’s okay. I wouldn’t change a thing about you, Wolffe.” You start walking back toward the base, seeing it just through the treeline. 

He falls in step next to you again. “Maybe… we could continue our moment later tonight?” 

“I’d like that very much.” You can’t seem to stop smiling.

When you return to base, you’re needed immediately in the briefing tent and yet… your mind can’t help but linger on that moment with Wolffe on the beach and what tonight could hold for the two of you. 

TAGS: @twistedstitcher27 @rebel-finn @rexandechosandwich @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @brynhildrmimi @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @padawancat97 @hated-by-me @sleepingsun501 @idledreams @redheadgirl @themcuwriter @ashotofspotchka @sunshinesdaydream @crosshairsimp73 @ariadnes-red-thread @rosmariner @heyitsaloy @starstofillmydream @high-ct5555 @echos-girlfriend @sleepywych @nekotaetae @justanothersadperson93 @aconstructofamind @book-of-baba-fett @chopper-base @palliateclaw @501st-rexster @dead-poolz @nahoney22 @where-is-my-mind-tho @jediknightjana @erishimoon @witching3 @queen-of-many-fandoms @wizardofrozz  @burningfieldof-clover @rebelsriley

[blxkstar]

"We have been called criminals, but we are not. We are rebels. Fighting for the people. Fighting for you."

I made a playlist for the Ghost crew from Star Wars Rebels! Please check it out!

I am not wasting my life. I help people. I lead ships into battle. I am part of something bigger.

We are fighting a bigger fight, but it's still the right fight

[kometqh]

𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐕𝐢𝐬𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐬 𝐌𝐚𝐢𝐝

Pt 1, Part 2, Pt 3, Pt4. Viscount!Captain Rex x Maid!F!Reader The Viscount is a renowned bachelor, known for his kindness, his wits and his charm. Ladies from across the planet swoon over him, visit him, are denied by him. He is a respectable, well-known man. What nobody seems to know is his knack for venturing out into the night, returning home with treasures, jewels, drinks, and most of all, ladies of the night. What does one do when they are caught red-handed, by none other than a lowly maid? Word Count: 4,385 Warnings: none from what I can recall A/N: This is a bit more of a filler chapter, it's much needed to move the story forward and introduce new characters (one included in this) for later on ^^

You didn’t sleep well that night. Nor the night after.

Just hours after the Viscount had informed you of your change in positions, you’d been forced to move to the upper levels of the mansion. You had been gracefully gifted with a slightly larger room, in the furthest corner of the second floor. Your bed looked slightly bigger, felt slightly more luxurious, spacious, even.

By the time you awoke, your back felt stiffer, and your sheets warmer. Your mind felt hazy and disoriented, and the new room hadn’t quite felt like home yet. Your body itched to return to your small closet, the one place you found yourself craving after a long day’s worth of work.

But those fantasies and mind-puzzles could be saved for later. You had to focus on the ‘now’.

As soon as she had been informed, Mrs Opal wasted no time in assigning new tasks to you. Each morning, you and the Steward were to wake the Viscount, you were to prepare his clothing and follow him around as the Steward explained the proceedings of the day before disappearing off to someplace. You were to be a personal barber, daily personal assistant and sometimes caretaker. Not your typical Valet, but you realised there was little you could do.

The Viscount was insistent on keeping you close at all times.

And so, the next time you had crossed the Viscount, he took you by surprise. He hadn’t done so much as even acknowledge your presence. Whether that was for the better, or, for the worse, you couldn’t quite tell yet. The stiffness in your back prevented any more than a few simple thoughts.

Maybe it was typical to do so.

Either way, you were relieved. You did not need the entire staff to see the phantom interactions between you and the Viscount. But no matter what you did, it seemed that the entire household had eyes on the backs of their heads.

That first morning, you had almost received a lashing for simply looking at the Viscount. Apparently, it was in your job description to keep your head low and your voice lower. You were not to utter a word.

At least around the Steward.

Your eyes remained trained on the sharp slope of his jaw, the long blade clutched between your fingers feeling threatening with each precise incision along the tender skin.

Your breathing was steady, your fingers trembling, and your eyes focused as you ignored the burning gaze of the Viscount. He was definitely trying to mess with you. Make you slip up. At this point, you felt like simple game to him. An unsuspecting, grazing fawn.

He watched you with an eager curiosity, studying every inch of your face, like a little toddler exploring nature. This was probably the most intimate he was with a woman without the presence of sexual need or desire.

A curt, relieved sigh escaped you as your fingers carried out the last stroke, leaving the Viscount with a neat, freshly shaven face. You reached for the wet cloth beside you, wrenching the water from it before you gently wiped at his face, removing all excess foam. His eyelids finally fell, separating the two of you, and you allowed your eyes to stray a little, watching drops of water cascading down the expanse of his jaw and throat, before they connected with the towel wrapped neatly around his collarbone and shoulders.

You felt a tinge of pride as the Viscount was visibly relaxed.

You turned away for a moment, towards the chimney. A lone towel had been hung close to it, to ensure it was dry and warm. You observed the flickering, amber flames for a moment, before you returned to the Viscount. You wished to reach out, to feel the sunlight-like warmth of the fire on your skin. Instead, you confided in the burning comfort of the towel.

A soft sigh escaped the Viscount as you pressed the material against his skin. As you moved to wrap it around his face, you were promptly stopped.

“Don’t.” He muttered out, raising a single hand. His eyelids remained closed, and yet you felt more watched now than ever.

Your heart dropped, and the false sense of calm you had managed to conjure up had shattered into a million pieces. A cold sweat bloomed over your skin, your hands paused in mid-air.

“Don’t…?” You repeated, unsurely.

The Viscount took a moment, his eyebrows furrowing.

“Don’t wrap it around my face. Just… Stick to pressing.” Was all he said, his hand dropping back to the armrest.

“Yes, my Lord.” You muttered, giving a slight, courteous nod, even if the Viscount couldn’t see it. The moment felt like an eternity as you gently pressed the towel against his face, making sure it didn’t cover his mouth or nose. The Viscount didn’t protest, and so you assumed that was the most he’d tolerate.

You couldn’t slip up.

You had seen the state of the other girls who had.

Their wounds, if not treated, would quickly become infected. They’d fall ill and were forced to leave. And if they were treated, the scars would run deep into their skin, like valleys that weren’t ever meant to be there. Some would say they still hurt from time to time, even if their last lashing was years prior.

“That’s all, my Lord.” You softly spoke as you stepped away, collecting all the essentials. He took a moment to open his eyes, but when he did, he didn’t leave the seat. His gaze was trained on the fire before him, a frown tugging at the corners of his lips. Instantaneously, your body went into full alert. You cleared your throat, attempting to gain his attention.

The Viscount didn’t even turn his head at the sound.

“M- My Lord? Are you feeling unwell?” You asked, keeping your distance. Whatever it was, you weren’t keen on getting involved in it.

After a moment of silence, you heard him sharply take in a breath.

“You’re dismissed.” His tone was ice cold, quiet as he hummed the words out.

You blinked in surprise. Were you supposed to argue? Remind him of his duties? Or leave him be until it was time to leave?

“Y- Yes my Lord.” You uttered, taking all your equipment. As you opened the door, you looked back, giving a slight bow of your head. The Viscount was still staring at the fire, unmoving even as the door slid shut with a soft thump.

Confusion prickled at the back of your head as you headed down the staircase, heading for the washrooms. Skilfully, you ignored the curious stares and mocking whispers as you kept your head down.

You were used to fellow servants gossiping about the daily lives of their employers, and occasionally you’d lend a listening ear. But you certainly did not enjoy feeling like the centre of the attention.

There were more important matters on your mind.

The Viscount was certainly odd; that went without saying.

It was strange, his behaviour. One moment he was intimidating and charming, the next he was oddly distant and quiet. His eyes would haze over with a fog, as if he was miles away in the past.

Whatever it was, you needed him to wake up from it. He had a ball to attend to that evening, and you needed him to feel ready and excited, after all, this year he was intending on marrying. You’d decided you would do anything to gain his trust and help him, although he didn’t need much help in the way of looks and charm…

A familiar voice reached your ears as you rounded the corner

“I don’t know what that girl did, but I do know one thing,” The voice spoke, and you quietened your steps so as to not betray your presence.

“And what’s that, Opal?” A masculine voice replied. It was the Butler, Mr Karr.

“Nothing good will come of this. She knows something that the Viscount doesn’t want anyone to know about, but sooner or later, the entire house staff and town will hear of it,” She paused, and you could hear the heavy sigh escaping her lips, “One way or another.”

You carefully peeked round the corner, looking Mrs Opal and the Butler up and down. Both had busied themselves with washing and drying some glasses.

It seemed as though they also enjoyed indulging themselves in a little bit of gossip.

However, you knew Mrs Opal was right. One way or another, this entire situation would turn sour, and you would be the sole victim of it.

You ducked out of sight and leaned your entire body against the wall. Just wait a little bit, or else I’m going to look suspicious, you thought to yourself. Your arms were slowly beginning to feel uncomfortable, the towels and shaving items were heavy, but you did not want to raise suspicions. Mrs Opal seemed to be the only person in this house that was trying to help you, to some degree at least.

The two didn’t say anything else, settling instead for a comfortable silence, and after a few more moments, you made your way into the washrooms.

You made your presence known as you stepped down into the lowered room, avoiding as many puddles as you could. The Butler glanced to you, acknowledging you with a curt nod.

“I have brought the Viscounts’ trimming essentials, Mrs Opal.” You quietly stated and stifled a laugh as the woman flinched and clutched at her chest.

“Goodness me, Y/n! You do not sneak up on others like this!” She exclaimed, half-heartedly whacking you with a rag on your bottom. A yelp left your lips as you hopped out of the way, narrowly missing a slip up.

“Apologies, Mrs Opal, I didn’t mean to!” You said quickly, “The Viscount dismissed me, it seems like he needed a moment alone, so I’ve brought his towels and tools to be cleaned.” You explained, setting the basket down on the floor. Mrs Ophelia looked towards you and with a nod, returned to her tasks.

“I’ll have a scullery maid take care of it. Now go back, you aren’t to be away from the Viscount for long.” She quickly dismissed you, and with a curt nod, you made your way out.

“That’s the maid?” The Butler was quick to ask as soon as you had disappeared out of sight.

“Careful! She might hear!” Mrs Opal scolded, and as you got further away, her voice became fainter and fainter until it blended in with the other background noises of the mansion.

It only had been a couple of days, but you felt yourself warming up to the woman. Previously, you had known her as a stone-cold, strict housekeeper, but now, now you felt there was more to her stony exterior than she let on.

Or maybe you were tricking yourself.

Maybe she was just gossiping and wasn’t looking out for you. Maybe she was as selfish as many of the others, after all, the life of a servant was anything but pleasant. Who could blame her?

However, there was that small inkling of hope within you; maybe she’d help you when you’d need it the most.  

Those thoughts could be saved for another time, though. For now, you needed to return to the Viscount.

You feared what the Steward, Mr Owens, would do were you to ‘neglect’ your duties for too long.

The sound of hurried footsteps reached your earshot, and you slowly turned your head to check out what was happening. You steadied yourself with a hand on the grand staircase, and quirked a brow as Mrs Opal came into view.

“Y/n, wait!” She exclaimed, and you felt heat rush to your cheeks as you glanced around. It seemed that she not only caught your attention, but also everyone else’s.

“Yes, ma’am?” You inquired, twisting your body to face her.

“I forgot to mention it to you earlier,” She paused, catching her breath. “I’ll be taking you to the village today, as ordered by the Viscount. Be ready and waiting by five o’clock.” She said as she closed the distance between the two of you, looking up at you with a strange seriousness.

“We’ll be going to the village? Whatever for?”

“I’ll tell you on the way,” She said, glancing sideways at the tuned in onlookers, “It seems like we have found ourselves an audience. Scram!” She suddenly exclaimed; your body flinched in response. She really knew how to raise her voice.

It seemed to work though as the scullery maids and footmen dispersed, leaving the grand staircase as empty and quiet as it was meant to be. It wasn’t common for staff to linger around the area.

“I’ll let you get going now.” She waved you off, descending the stairs.

“Yes ma’am.” You muttered, resuming your climb up.

How strange.

You’d never been tasked with duties that were to take place outside of the manor. What was so important the Viscount was willing to let you go into the village?

You bunched your skirts in your palms, lifting them just enough to not risk tripping. When did climbing stairs become so daunting?

Though your exhaustion was shadowed over by the awe you felt as you looked around the hallways.

Creamy white tapestries, golden accents on railings and paintings expertly placed everywhere. Navy blue curtains were drawn at every window, and you noticed they almost touched the ceiling as you craned your neck. Ruby pink and white roses were perfectly spaced, following the edge of the wall. They lead to different rooms and windows like a path of crumbs in a forest.

You wondered whether that was the Viscount’s influence or someone else’s.

You paused in your steps.

A figure stood atop the staircase caught your attention. You recognised him.

Lord Wolffe, one of the Viscount’s older brothers.

What was he doing here? As far as you were aware, he was always hiding away in his study, or disappearing for drinks late at night.

And now, he was watching you. His gaze scorned your skin, like a blaster bullet.

Maybe he’d be gone by the time you reached the top.

But with each step, and each glance up, he wasn’t budging. His stare was solely focused on you. You felt your heart drop into your stomach as you reached the last step.

“My Lord?” You asked, keeping your head low. You did not wish to upset another one of your employers.

You ensured to keep an appropriate distance between the two of you. You were close enough to signal to him that you needed to pass, but far enough to not invade his personal space, or make it seem as though you held no respect for him. But the Lord didn’t move.

“Yes?” He asked. You could feel his glare on you.

“May I pass by, my Lord?” You asked, keeping your focus concentrated on his shiny polished shoes.

There was no hesitation in his response.

“You may not.”

Your head raised faster than your mind could comprehend his response.

“Why n- not?” A small gasp escaped you, and your skirts dropped as you clamped a hand over your mouth. A slip up.

“M- My apologies, my Lord. I did not mean to be disrespectful.” You said quickly, bowing your head back down. You could feel your heart thundering against your chest, so quickly and strongly it almost hurt.

He did not respond. Instead, his feet moved, and his fingers cupped your chin.

“Look at me.” His tone was sharp yet gentle, like a blade, falsely comforting until you applied enough pressure to cut. Hesitantly, you allowed him to angle your face until it met his, but your gaze concentrated on the wall behind him. You did not wish to anger the Lord.

“M- My Lord?”

He studied your features with a scolding stare, causing heat to rush up to your face and shivers down your spine. What could he want from you, a lowly servant?

“You’re an obedient one, aren’t you?” He questioned, his hold on your chin tightening. Were you supposed to grant him a response or nod your head or remain quiet? Mrs Opal did not prepare you for this type of situation. You weren’t even sure she herself had ever encountered such one. You weren’t even sure this man before you wasn’t crazy.

You opted for the obvious; remain quiet.

He leaned a tad forward, just enough for you to feel the coldness of his presence on your skin. Your shoulders stiffened, almost shrinking back into your body. A lump formed in your throat and you fought hard to swallow it. You felt trapped, and in all honesty, you were.

He studied your features like an open book, his gaze dragging over each blemish and dip with clear precision, as if he did this kind of thing often.

You’d definitely have bruises on your chin if his nails added on any more pressure.

But his tone held more hostility than his touch ever could.

“What do you know? You’ve had my brother stressing all morning, ad’ika.” He hissed out, squinting at your figure. Maybe his cybernetic eye can read minds, you thought. Maybe it could see the quickening of your pulse or the dilation of your pupils.

Did he find this amusing? Certainly. But you were officially shitting yourself. Trembling in his hold. What did he want from you? Why was he so strange?

“I- I don’t know My Lord I-“

“Ah ah,” He tutted, easing his grip on you, “Don’t forget your manners, we only talk when talked to.” He taunted, abandoning your chin with a harsh tug. His knuckles moved to the side of your face, gently dragging over the skin before cupping it in his palm.  

The contrast between his touch and his tone was giving you whiplash.

His face neared yours, until you could feel the warmth of his breath fanning over the shell of your ear. Your eyes widened and your hands felt clammy against the soft fabric of your skirts.

“I don’t know what you’ve heard or seen, ad’ika,” He paused, his hand tilting your head until your gaze was locked with his, “But the moment word gets out, I’ll make sure you’ll regret it.”

“Wolffe?” His own voice called out, but from your far left. You didn’t dare to look away, too afraid he’d snap your neck with the lightest of touches. Gods, what did you get involved in? Why?

Wolffe was quick to retreat, leaving your stunned figure breathless on the staircase.

The Viscounts’ steps were light as he made his way over, eyeing his brother curiously. He was well aware of just how menacing Wolffe could be, and he did not wish for him to scare you so awfully.

“What are you doing, brother?” The Viscount asked, eyeing him up and down.

“Just familiarising myself with your new maid, Rex.” He replied, sending a nonchalant nod your way. The Viscount glanced between the two of you with a raised brow.

“By scaring her shitless, brother?”

“Precisely.”

The Viscount took a long inhale, staring his brother down. Wolffe didn’t back down, and the two remained motionless for what felt like an eternity.

And there you stood, watching like a bystander with tense shoulders and a rattled heart and a running mind. That Wolffe Lord was definitely crazy.

“It’s a good thing I’ve caught you doing this,” He paused, throwing a glance your way, “Or else someone would’ve suffered the consequences.” He continued, walking past his brother. He halted at the top of the staircase, staring down at your frozen figure.

“Let’s go, we’ve got things to do and places to be.” He said directly to you, brushing past you without another word.

 Your mind seemed to be frozen as you remained in your place, looking up at the Lord. He returned the stare with a small smirk gracing his lips.

Damn, he was attractive. But awfully strange.

With a flutter of your eyelashes, you threw the Lord one last weary look, your hold on your skirts tightening as you turned and followed the Viscount.

The trek down was quiet, the two of you lost in your own thoughts. You weren’t even sure you should be conversing with the Viscount. Mr Owens would surely have your head for that. But how could he if he wasn’t around to see…?

Your mind kept wondering back to Lord Wolffe.

His character intimidated you, to put it lightly. His stare never relented even when his brother called out his name. He was interrogating you and was so keen and set on getting his questions answered. But you couldn’t. The Viscount would have your head for it.

However, he had impeccable timing, it seemed. Or Lord Wolffe has indeed done this before and the Viscount just knew.

You observed him, noticing how his blue and white armour hugged his body protectively. Beskar. Pure, expertly forged Beskar. Lord Wolffe was also wearing it. It was a symbol of the Mandalorians, though you weren’t aware of the Viscount and his brothers having any connection to the planet of warriors. What was he doing on the planet of Naboo?

You were the Viscount’s maid, and yet you knew so little about the man.

Where he was from, his age, his past, his favourite foods and favourite activities, even the place you were so urgently needed at right in this moment.

So, against your better judgement, you spoke up.

“My Lord?” Quietly, you asked. No response. Not even a hum.

“My Lord, may I ask where we’re headed to?” You tried again, watching each one of your steps. The Viscount didn’t look back, though his steps slowed.

“The Housekeeper didn’t tell you?”

“Mrs Opal?”

“Yes.” He replied, turning to face you as he stepped on the floor.

“She informed me that her and I would be visiting the village later on.”

“Well, we’re moving it to now. I’ve got other businesses to attend to later,” He was prompt in his response, and proceeded to walk towards the entrance of the mansion, “Inform her of the change of plans, will you?” He turned back to face you once more as the footmen opened the doors.

“B- But my Lord- “

“I’ll be waiting in the carriage.” He said nonchalantly, disappearing through the doors, leaving your gaping form in the hallway.

“What the-?” You questioned but shook your head. It seemed that there was a behavioural pattern between The Viscount and his brothers; so far, they all seem to be giving you whiplash. Their words and actions don’t match up, from what you’ve seen from two of them so far.

You were quick to inform Mrs Opal, though you weren’t quick enough to escape her confused frustration.

“He wants to what!?” She asked angrily as she wiped her hands on a dry rag.

“The Viscount insists on leaving for the village now.” You repeated, flinching as she tossed the piece of material to the side.

“That isn’t what we agreed on! He’ll have to wait, I need to change my skirts, I mean look at me!” She exclaimed, straightening her arms out and down, pointing at her clothing, “I’m drenched from head to toe.”

She let out a frustrated huff, before stomping out of the washrooms.

“Inform him he’ll have to wait; I cannot leave looking like this.” She sent you off with a glare, though you knew it wasn’t truly aimed at you. She knew you were just the messenger.

“Yes ma’am.”

With hurried steps you made your way back to the Viscount. The sun was shining brightly, the breeze cool against the humidity of the day. The sky was crystal clear, the grass an inviting lime green, and the carriage stood out like a scarecrow in a farmers field. It was a tall, mahogany brown thing with purple curtains and two horses. It was a bit too fancy to head to the village in, but it wasn’t up to you to decide.

The Viscount had a reputation to uphold, after all.

As you neared the carriage, you were ready to open the door to it yourself.

But the carriage driver beat you to it, and aided you inside with a practiced perfection. He did this on a daily basis, and yet it still took you by surprise when he asked to hold your hand, letting you use him as support to climb in.

The Viscount was already there and waiting, reading over some sort of pamphlet. His eyebrows were furrowed and eyes focused even when the soft click of the carriage door closing reached his ears.

“So?” He popped the question without ever drawing his gaze away from the words on the page.

“She said we’ll have to wait, my Lord. Mrs Opal was in the middle of washing up the cutlery when I told her.” Your voice was hushed, controlled as your body sunk into the seat, trying to take up as little leg room as possible.

The Viscount sighed loudly and placed the pamphlet down with a whack.

He knocked on the door; impatience clear as a vein popped out in his temple.

“Let’s go now!” His voice was raised, and a few moments later, the carriage slowly began taking off.

“My Lord? Aren’t we going to wait?” You asked, lifting from your seat. You moved the curtains away, peeking through the window and allowing some light to flood the carriage.

“No, I’ve got other businesses to attend to and I need you to be presentable by evening.”

“But what about Mrs Opal?” You paused, furrowing your brows, “I need to be presentable? Whatever for, my Lord?” You questioned again, this time turning your attention to the Viscount. His statement, once processed clearly, had caught you off guard.

With another sigh, he looked up at your staring figure.

“You’re my maid, you’re with me at all times,” He paused, raising his brows and tilting his head, “That means you will be accompanying me to the capital city, and to balls.”

“Oh.”

“And that means you need… New attire.” He continued, looking you up and down to emphasise his point.

“So, we’re going to a boutique, my Lord?”

“Yes, we are.”

[221bshrlocked]

desire for obedience

Pairings: Commander Wolffe x Jedi Fem!Reader

Words: 5656

Warnings: Angsty Smut. Semi-Public but Consensual Sex. Some Dirty Talk. Rough Manhandling/Sex. Clothed Male Naked Female. Penetrative, Unprotected Sex (Wrap the Shlong before you King Kong my Dudes). Slight Breeding Kink. Creampie. Implied Squirting. Indirect Love Confessions. 79′s shenanigans. 

Summary: You risk your life to save Wolffe and Boost’s. Wolffe doesn’t appreciate you disobeying his orders. Things escalate at 79′s...

A/N: I was minding my own business writing a oneshot involving a threesome with Crosshair and Mayday when this suddenly happened so here you go. I am not okay after that Bad Batch episode so naturally I am writing smut to make myself feel better. Enjoy my lovely Clone lovers and let me know how I’m doing in the comments please and thank you. You can add yourself to the taglist here if you like.

If it had been any other day, you would have brushed aside the flare of anger heating all around you, chalking it up for the particularly extraneous mission you and your battalion had just returned from. But the last rotation brought about many revelations, one of which involved the Clone Commander currently staring daggers into your very soul. You avoided him as much as you can, and from the looks of it, he noticed your tactics and was getting extremely tired of them. 

When you look up at him again through the multitude of white armor surrounding the two of you, you find his eyes narrowed dangerously at you, jaws clenched tightly as he realizes that you were very much aware of why he was fuming at you. A question breaks your attention away from him, and you turn to the trooper beside you, pretending to laugh at whatever anecdote he just said to avoid the tempest threatening to take you over. 

You know why he’s behaving this way, and as much as you hate to admit it, he had every right to feel this way. But you couldn’t tell him that, mostly because you didn’t want to hear how disappointed he was with your decision or how right he was that you weren’t ready for your position. 

You continue nodding at the trooper, completely oblivious to the slow approach of the man you’ve been avoiding for the better half of the day. 

“Good evening Commander,” the words snap you back to reality and you look up in time to see Wolffe’s unwavering gaze threatening to bring you to your knees. 

“This next round is on me boys,” you blurt out immediately, avoiding any and all contact with Wolffe’s rather dangerous eyes as you take a step back from the group. “Order anything you want and p-put it on my tab.” You manage to breathe out before you turn around and head towards the refreshers, praying to the maker that 79’s wasn’t seeing too much action in the back tonight. 

You barely manage to move past the dancing crowd, keeping your hand firmly placed on your lightsaber in an attempt to calm yourself. If you didn’t know better, you would have thought that Wolffe had every intention to shoot you with his blaster the second he walked up to your group. Slamming the door open, you head towards one of the sinks and turn on the cold water, splashing your face several times and dragging the water down your neck in an attempt to calm down. 

Not a second later, the door opens quietly, making you sigh heavily as you look for anything to wipe your face. You hope that the occupant behind you doesn’t try to ask you if everything is okay because you aren’t sure how you can manage to respond to that question. It’s eerily quiet as you pat your face down with the edge of your robes, and when you don’t hear any movement towards one of the stalls, you look up into the mirror and feel a wave of cold ice wash over you. 

Gulping down the anxiety threatening to make itself apparent in the form of a stream of tears, you turn around slowly and watch as Wolffe tilts his head to the side and continues to stare into your eyes. You say nothing, unsure of what or how you were supposed to get yourself out of this sticky situation. 

Then he locks the door and taps on it twice, and you know you’re in for it. 

“Wol- um, Commander. H-how may I be of service?” You hate the way your entire body shakes whenever you’re in his presence, even more so now as he slowly approaches you, the look of a predator clear and visible on his features. 

You had always wondered why he was named Wolffe, but as his jaw tenses, the veins on his neck straining from how harsh he’s biting down, pronouncing the nearly homicidal look brewing in his eyes, you finally understand how he came about his name. 

Maker, he looked positively frightening. 

It aroused you to no end. 

“I’m only going to ask this once, and you better have a damn good answer.” His voice is menacing, and you swear you hear a growl emit from deep within his chest as he speaks, as if he was embodying the spirit of the animal he was named after. 

“Yes Commander?” You pray that your nervousness calms him a little, maybe prove to him that the last thing you intended to do was get on his nerves. When he says nothing and continues to walk towards you, you can’t help but back up, and as soon as your back hits the cold tile wall, you feel your heart skip a beat at the prospect of being at his mercy. 

He had finally cornered you, like a prey, and the only thing left for you to do was to follow his lead and ensure that he understood who was in charge here. 

Wolffe’s eyes never once leave your own, and you will yourself to continue breathing so you don’t pass out from the intensity of his gaze. He says nothing for what you deem as too long, and only when he’s a foot away from you does he finally break the terrifying silence that has washed over the room. 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

You immediately know what his question is in reference to, and you know for a fact that playing dumb would do you no good, especially now that he had you at his mercy. You look back and forth in between his eyes, the scar adorning his right eye appearing much more threatening this up close. You part your lips to try and answer his question, but nothing comes to mind, nothing that would satiate the Force signature completely engulfing you in this instance. 

“I- I was just…”

“Disobeying orders?” He cuts you off, taking one more step towards you until you are completely overwhelmed by him. You want to scream at him, push him aside and remind him that you were the General and he was the Commander, that you outranked him and didn’t have to listen to anything he said. But the two of you would know that you’re lying, because up until now, you had seldom made him feel like he was inferior to you. When it came to the battlefield, Commander Wolffe was among the best of the best, with his experience, his tactical intelligence, and his sheer will to ensure the safety of those around him. 

Which is how you found yourself in this mess. 

You had disobeyed a direct order, went after him and Boost when he told you to leave the two of them and accompany the rest of the battalion. You had never seen someone so furious before, and you ignored everything he spewed at you as you single-handedly fought through hundreds of battle droids to get to the two of them. 

Looking into his eyes now, you’re also reminded of the small flicker of hope that broke through the violent rage of his Force signature when he saw you approaching him and Boost. It was that little flame that led you to him and his brother, the same one you could feel slowly heating within his chest now. 

You got the sense that it wasn’t just hope for being saved, but something else entirely, something you prayed for every day and night as you accompanied the Wolfpack on every mission that Master Plo Koon couldn’t go on. 

“Wolffe, I-” before you can try to come up with a response that wouldn’t get you in more trouble, Wolffe takes the last step towards you, slamming both of his arms on either side of your head and caging you in, until the only thing you could see was him. 

“What were you thinking?” He asks once more, and if you didn’t know better, you’d think his question wasn’t about the events of the morning today, but something else entirely.

You swallow down your nerves, knowing that the sentiment about to form on your lips would shift the dynamics between the two of you. 

“I was thinking of you.” 

The reality of the meaning behind your words hits Wolffe almost as soon as you’ve come to accept them yourself. His eyes widen in shock, and you feel his Force signature simmer down soon after, allowing you to say the next confession with ease. 

“I’m- I’m always thinking of you.”

Again, the Clone Commander stands there in a state of surprise and disbelief. You think perhaps that you shouldn’t have revealed to him the reason behind your actions, and before you can apologize for the bold response, you sense a dramatic spike in his Force signature, one that sends a shiver down your spine. 

“Fuck.” He breathes the word with such heartache that you don’t registers what’s happening until you feel the wind get knocked out of you. 

Wolffe lunges at you with a growl, and you part your lips in surprise as soon as you feel his lips dominate your mouth. You allow a few seconds to pass by, mostly so you can be certain you weren’t imagining this and that the call of your name wouldn’t wake you from your sleep and ruin this moment. When he wraps his hand around your throat and pushes you harder into the wall with his body, you know this wasn’t another dream. 

Slowly shutting your eyes, you surrender to the war the Commander was waging on your body, and as you try to wrap your arms around his shoulders, he lets go of your neck and grabs both of your wrists, slamming them harshly against the cold, solid wall above your head before grasping them in one, rather aggressive hold. You sigh into him, melting against the dominance of his touch as his palm returns to your jugular and softly increases the pressure around your neck. 

You tilt your head to the side to allow him more access, and it must be what he wants from you because he deepens the kiss instantly, shoving his tongue inside your mouth until the only thing you can taste is the faint flavor of the bitter whiskey he was drinking earlier. 

But before you can enjoy him, Wolffe pulls away and stares down at you, looking back and forth between your eyes in search of something, of what you’re unsure. You say nothing, whimpering against him as he chokes you harder and pushes the length of his body into your own. 

“You shouldn’t have said that.” His voice is hoarse, engulfing you in a state of unadulterated desire, something you were sure he was unintentionally transferring onto you the longer he kept you in his arms. It’s not that you didn’t feel the same, far from it. It just felt strange to finally sense him so deeply, as if he has kept his emotions bottled up for so long and could no longer hold back now that you voiced your mutual desire for him.

“Wolffe, please.” you moan his name as you throw your head back and enjoy the devastation he was bringing upon your body. 

It must be all he needs to hear because in the blink of an eye, Wolffe is dragging you away from the wall towards the sinks again. He turns around roughly, and you tremble at his handling of you, only to look up and see the way he’s staring at you through the mirror. Before you can say anything, ask him what he was planning on doing with you, you hear the loud sound of plastoid armor hitting the ground. You gulp loudly as you feel his palm across your back, pushing you down slowly until you are bent over the sink, both hands holding onto the steel supporting your body.

“I’m going to fuck you, mesh’la. I’m going to fuck you hard, and mark you up so everyone can know.” The promise he delivers makes you shake with need, and you don’t dare blink away from him, afraid you’d miss the way his handsome features shift with each strike of pleasure he lands on you. Without missing a beat, Wolffe takes hold of your robes and pulls them off of your body, throwing them on the opposite sink before unclipping your lightsaber from your belt. You’re about to ask him to be careful with handling it but he doesn’t give you a chance to say anything, instead hanging it on his own belt carefully to avoid any harm to it. 

You’re not sure why, but the sight of your weapon, a tool that you’ve spent your entire life forming a connection to, hanging around his belt makes you wet, and you stare at its reflection as he moves closer to you, watching as it swings back and forth while he undresses you completely. 

“Don’t you dare look away from me.” Wolffe warns, the growled command pulling your gaze back to his in the mirror and making you wish you weren’t at 79’s but somewhere more private. You nod instantly, wanting him to know that you didn’t mean to shift your attention elsewhere. When he’s satisfied with your response, he reaches around and unzips your pants, dragging them down quickly before taking hold of the hem of your shirt and tugging it up your body. You help him take the offending object off of your person, and watch with fascination as he throws it above your robes before stepping back to look at you. 

You’re nearly naked, and as you look at his reflection, you can’t help the rush of excitement that rakes over your body when you notice the feral, hungry look he was giving you now, as if he’s wanted this for so long and couldn’t believe his eyes. You try to raise yourself a little, but the small movement snaps Wolffe out of his haze, making him return to your space and push you down again. You brace yourself against the mirror, both hands dragging against the shiny, cool surface slowly beginning to fog over from the damp air filling the small room. 

“Look at you, waiting for my next order.” He taunts you then, dragging his fingers up and down the side of your body before bringing his still-clothed chest against your back. The armor is harsh and cold against your heated skin, but you don’t care, knowing that whatever he was planning on doing to you would make you forget very quickly the discomfort of the plastoid. 

“Wolffe.”

“That’s Commander Wolffe to you, mesh’la.” He leans over and whispers in your ears as he reaches around with one hand and cups your breasts. You shut your eyes to relish in the warm touch of his hand, only to open them in shock when he lands a particularly hard slap to your lower thighs not a second after. 

“I thought I told you not to look away from me.” Wolffe growls again, and as you’re about to apologize, he leans over and bites into your neck, chuckling to himself when you moan his name lewdly and arch your back against him. He soothes over the bite with his tongue, kissing along your neck and down to your shoulder as he looks up and sees you staring at him. 

“Maybe you can be obedient after all.” There is a dangerous glint in his eyes, and you nod at him, wanting him to know that you would whatever he says, even if it were at your expense. 

Thinking he would drag this out, you lean down a little more until you can feel the edge of the sink dig into your hips.

“I’m going to fuck you General, until this whole bar knows who’s making you scream.” He says as he lets go of you and palms his cock through the blacks beneath his armor. You want to look at him, and you get the sense that he is daring you to shift your focus from his eyes to his hands, but you don’t give into the temptation, instead biting into your lower lip and doubling down on the eye contact. 

“Please Commander!” You plead for him, no longer caring on whether you sound pathetic or not, and it must please Wolffe greatly, the use of the honorific and the wanton tone of your voice, because he lowers his blacks down far enough to free his cock and spits on his hand before covering himself with the wet palm of his hand. 

“You’re going to leave tonight with my cum trailing down your thighs, General. And if you can be an obedient little sweetheart for me, I’ll make sure you cum too.” Wolffe groans against your ears, making you whine his name over and over again as you feel his hand moving behind you. You want to beg him to end your misery, take what he wants from you and mark you up however he wants, but the only thing that manages to escape your throat is a long sigh in the form of a desperate plea. 

When you feel his fingers push your panties to the side, you brace yourself for the onslaught he would soon deliver to your body. Then he pushes his cock against your wet folds, and you realize that this may hurt more than you initially thought. 

Fuck, you couldn’t wait for that sweet burn. 

You part your lips to tell him exactly that, only to watch as Wolffe stares into your eyes while he pushes his dick into your cunt, not bothering to slow down until he is fully sheathed inside you. He’s larger than you imagined, thicker and warmer too, and you nearly close your eyes to commit this feeling to memory, only to feel a hand grab your neck and push down on it until your gaze is wide open. 

“Keep those pretty eyes on me. I w-want you to watch me as I fuck you, General.” His voice falters briefly, making your heart threaten to leap out of your chest at the prospect of having a similar effect on him as he was having on you. He wraps his other arm around your chest, keeping you flush against him with his unwavering hold on your body. 

“I want you to watch me as I teach your body how to take me…how to pleasure me…how to make me cum.” He breathes heavily against you, barely pulling out before snapping his hips back against you. You cry out his name into the night air, fogging up the mirror further as he quickly sets a pace that makes you see stars. You have no control over your reaction to him, nor to the way he seems to coax pleasure from your body. With each drag of his thick cock against your tight walls, you remember the sliver of hope he offered you all those hours ago, one that was similar in nature to the look he was giving you now. 

“Fuck…I’m going teach you how to be obedient, even- kriff, even if it’s the last thing I do.” His words become less dangerous and more affectionate, and it finally settles in why he’s been so angry with you ever since you saved him and his brother. 

He truly thought you were of more value than him. 

The idea that Wolffe sees himself this way brings tears to your eyes, and you don’t have time to dwell on anything but this sad sentiment before you’re openly crying in his arms. 

Wolffe is too far gone to notice when you start crying, constantly biting into your flesh to prevent himself from dragging you to the ground and mounting you like an animal. He fucks you harder, thrusting his hips against you the more you clench around him and bring him closer to the edge. It’s only when you sob that he realizes you’re practically breaking down in his arms, and he stops instantly, letting go of your neck and almost pulling out of you. 

Then your hand snaps to his wrist and pulls it back to your neck, and Wolffe is unsure of what he’s meant to do. You shake your head at him, quickly wiping away the tears with the back of your arm before returning your hands to the mirror in front of you.

“Please, make me yours.” You hope he understands what you’re trying to say because you’re not sure if your mind will manage to come up with another coherent sentence if he asked you to elaborate. He stares at you for a while, gauging your reaction to his touches as he massages your back and your sides, studying you to be certain of your desires for him. When he finds your gaze unwavering, the beautiful pout on your lips begging for his lips, he slowly drags his hand down your body until they reach the back of your thighs. 

With immense ease, he takes hold of your thigh and pushes it higher, until you’re resting your knee against the sink as well. Your entire upper body is bent now, nearly pushing against the mirror, and Wolffe clenches his jaw tightly before he leans into your space once more, sending his cock impossibly deeper into your cunt. 

“Sir, yes sir.” He whispers his response as he widens his stance and grabs both of your hips, fucking up into you with harsh, deep thrusts until you could no longer keep your voice down. 

You somehow manage to keep your eyes on him through the mirror, wanting to give him whatever he wants so he could keep fucking you. There’s a rush of vulnerability that fills your lungs, and you realize it’s a mixture of both of your feelings when you notice the way Wolffe’s features shift from anger to hurt. 

If he knows you understand why he’s behaving this way, he mentions nothing of it, instead choosing to shove his cock harder into you until the only thing you can focus on is the perfect way he continues to fill you with his dick. You can feel every twitch and every vein on his cock dragging deliciously across your tight, wet walls and consistently hitting that small spot that makes you scream in sheer agony. 

“Mine. You’re fucking mine, mesh’la. You hear that?” Wolffe asks, not really expecting you to respond to his question. 

“Yes, ‘m yours…‘m all yours Commander.” You cry in ecstasy as he tightens his hold around your waist, surely leaving bruises there for you to trace in the days to come. 

“My perfect fucking Jetii’ika, taking my cock like a good girl.” He manages to return his gaze to you now, knowing that he hasn’t imagined you telling him that you were his.

“Fuck…ahh fuck, are you close? Please cyar’ika, tell me you’re close. Tell me you’re going to cum on my cock.” Gone is the menacing, commanding Clone Commander, and you rest your forehead on the mirror briefly before you pull away and look into his eyes again. 

“Not- not until you cum first.” You respond with a whimper, the raw emotion behind your words sending Wolffe into a state of shameless craving, a need to make you belong to him. He leans over you, wincing lightly when you hiss at the cold, plastoid of his armor as it digs into your skin. Wrapping his arm around your body and neck one last time, he turns your head to the side until your lips are near his own, and without wasting another second, he kisses the corner of your lips and whispers one last order for you to follow. 

“Cum for me General, cum for your Commander.” 

“Yes sir.” 

He molds his lips with your own as soon as you respond, swallowing down your moans of pleasure as he pushes his cock one last time into your cunt and fills you with his seed. You shake violently in his arms as you feel the heat of his cum rush into you, painting your walls with hot strings of his pleasure just as he reaches down and flicks your clit with his fingers. You nearly topple over, but Wolffe doesn’t give you a chance to part from him, shifting your neck so he can keep kissing you while he pulls an orgasm out of your abused body. He grunts and bites into your lower lip, grinding his hips against you until you’ve milked him dry, but he doesn’t stop there, continuing to rub your oversensitive clit until you force his cock out of your cunt and fall into blinding pleasure. You break from him then, falling against the mirror as he doesn’t slow down and elongates your climax. Only when you scream and plead for him to stop does he finally remove his hand from your wet folds, resting his entire weight on top of your own as he mirrors your actions and attempts to catch his breath. 

Neither of you say anything for a while, and even though Wolffe had just fucked you within an inch of your life, you can’t find it in yourself to look him in the eyes, the previous shyness you’ve held whenever he’s around returning a thousandfold. 

Once again, Wolffe mistakes your timidity for fear, and he loosens the hold he has on your neck instantly, rubbing your skin to soothe away whatever he’s done to you. You can feel his Force signature shift once again, and you’d tell him later that, for someone who prided himself in keeping his emotions under check, he wore his heart on his sleeves. 

“I’m okay Wolffe, I swear.” You whisper into the silent air between the two of you, waiting until he begins to touch you again with more familiarity before speaking again. 

“I didn’t know, but…I’m not sorry for what I did.” 

It’s probably not what he expects to hear from you, and the reluctant demeanor turns into fiery irritation once again when you meet his eyes through the mirror and he sees that you meant your words. 

“How could you say that?” He asks, not knowing how else he should respond to your confession. 

“Because the thought of you dying scares me to death, and…and I will never value my life more important than your own.” You tell him, matter of factly, hoping that he wouldn’t question your feelings any further. 

“You can’t think like that, General.” Wolffe frowns, sighing heavily as he takes a few steps back and rests against one of the stalls. You mirror his expression and slowly lower your leg to the floor, wincing slightly when a sharp pain shoots across your body and nearly forces you to the ground. 

Wolffe is right behind you in an instant, wrapping his arms around you and turning you around slowly in his arms before pushing you up to sit on the sink. He begins to move away, already regretting everything he’s just done now that he knows how much he hurt you. You don’t let him get too far though, dragging him by his wrist until his arms were framing your body once more. 

“You’re not being fair Wolffe. You- you can’t expect me to not fear for your life the way you do mine. I- I can’t think less of you…I won’t. You have to understand that.” You cup his neck until he looks at you, and it takes too long for his Force signature to finally ebb down again. Only then do you feel confident enough to lean into him and take his lips in a chaste kiss, one that doesn’t remain soft for too long because in the blink of an eye, Wolffe is hugging you tightly and bringing you flush against him. You spend the next few minutes stealing each others’ breath away, and when you’re satisfied enough with his recognition of your emotions, you let go of him and fall back to rest against the mirror. 

A moment later, Wolffe begins to chuckle and digs his nails into your skin as he explores your body. You wipe the sweat from your forehead and watch as he takes in your nearly nude form. There’s a sentiment forming on your lips, one that you knew would shift your relationship with him further, but you get the sense that it wouldn’t be the right time to say it now, mostly because of what it would entail should he say it in return. 

“Looks like we still have to work on your obedience, sweetheart.” You know he’s joking, but the way he looks at you now lets you know that there was some truth behind those words. 

“Whatever you say Commander.” You try to shift closer to him but Wolffe distracts you with a rough swipe of his fingers against the mess in between your thighs. Before you can ask him to slow down, Wolffe grips the edge of your panties tightly and rips them from your body, leaving you as shocked and embarrassed as when he first walked into the refresher. 

“What- how am I supposed to leave now?” You ask, only to cease to breathe when he brings the ruined material to his nose and takes a long whiff of your mixed scents. 

“With all due respect sir, I never promised you’ll be leaving with your dignity tonight.” He laughs as he shoves the fabric into his pocket and puts his slowly hardening cock back into his blacks. You watch as he reaches for the codpiece and latches it onto his armor again, moving to the side to fix his hair and right himself before he hands you your clothes. 

He’s as good as new in the span of a few minutes, and you hate how ruined you look when you jump off the sink and turn around to look at yourself in the mirror. Your hair is a mess, and your neck is littered with love bites, ones you knew would be visible even when you wore all of your robes. 

Pulling your pants back up, you shift uncomfortably when you feel Wolffe’s cum slide down your thighs and make an even bigger mess inside your pants. You shake your head when you glance to the side and watch Wolffe eye you down hungrily, as if he hasn’t just fucked your brains out. 

“I’ll have you know, I could write you up for insubordination…Commander.” You tease him as he hands you your shirt with feigned innocence, all the while dragging his eyes across your body until your skin erupts with goosebumps. You fix yourself to the best of your abilities, throwing your outer robes slightly higher around your neck so no one outside knows what you just did.

Assuming they didn’t hear you scream his name a thousand times already. 

“That’s a little inaccurate, sir.” Wolffe remarks as he unhooks your lightsaber from around his belt and stands behind you again, not moving a muscle until you rest your head against his shoulder and surrender to the sensation of his lips around your neck again. 

“Oh yeah, h-how so?” 

Wolffe chuckles, and you can almost feel the smirk on his handsome features as he continues to shower your flushed skin with kisses. 

“I wasn’t the insubordinate one here…General.” Whereas you heard the growl before, you can feel it rumble against your back now, and you thank the maker that he was standing behind you because you’re sure you would have fallen to your knees if he wasn’t. 

“Hmm.” 

“If you really want to write me up for insubordination, sir…perhaps we can take this somewhere else.” Wolffe traces the length of your neck with his tongue, bringing his arms around your body and cupping both of your breasts in his larger hands to pull you closer to him. 

“And where- oh Force help me, where do you recommend we g-go?” You arch your back into him, throwing your hands back and tugging on his curly locks while he continues to teach your body how to recognize his touch. 

“Well, we can go back to yours…not much privacy though.” 

“No…not- not enough privacy.” You repeat his words, shivering with embarrassment when he laughs at how easily he has you wrapped around his fingers. 

“Or, we can go back to mine.” Wolffe suggests, sucking another red mark on the skin just below your jaw, not caring for how hard it will be to cover up. 

“But…but what if the boys are there?” Your mind is coherent enough to understand the dangers behind getting caught, but your question only makes Wolffe harder, the prospect of his men seeing you beneath him as he fucked you into kingdom come making him wish he didn’t have such nasty thoughts of you. 

“I’m a Commander, cyar’ika. I get to have my own quarters…besides, if I tell the boys they saw nothing, then they saw nothing.” He shrugs his shoulders when you open your eyes and look at his reflection in the mirror. This up close, Wolffe looks more relaxed and content, perhaps even a little younger. You can’t believe how different he appears now, but you can’t find it in yourself to care, mostly because of how delicious those whispered promises sounded to your ears.

“You’re wrong, Wolffe.” You respond to him and watch as his eyebrows furrow at your words. Before he can misunderstand you, you turn around and throw your arms around his shoulders, leaning up on your tiptoes until the two of you are breathing the same air. 

“You’re not just a Commander, you’re my Commander.” 

The smile Wolffe graces you with will be etched in your mind until the end of the universe, and he hums at you approvingle before grabbing your neck and sealing the night in another heated kiss. 

“Damn right I am.”

Tagging who showed interest in my other Wolffe fic: @mrs-ghuleh @mandoleksiak @verdandis-blog @reaperofmen  @sjva03 @thefact0rygirl @2amandstillawake21 @ktrivia @zombiesnips-blog  @lackofhonor @ner-runi @whore4rex @spaceh0m0 @why-not-movies @yoonloml @where-is-my-mind-tho @okdeedee @clone-simp-99 @lonely-day3636 @cautionhotmess @frogunderarock @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall​ @knightprincess @artemis-rex @raccoonsaregay​ @prozacspice​ @r2d2staser​ @marierg​ @2amandstillawake21​ 

[arctrooper69]

hiii! i just found your hurt/comfort dialog prompt list you had tagged and i'm such a sucker for that kind of stuff. could you please do prompt 34. "you're covered in blood, need to tell me something?" with wolffe? maybe even a little bit of prompts 20 and 35 from the the hurt/comfort sprinkled in there too? i absolutely adore your work and your such a fantastic writer, i look forward to everytime you post, and you do such a beautiful job on your writing that i can't wait to read this once it is done (if you decided to do it) . feel free to change it how you want, and thank you for taking time out of busy day to read this. love you <333

Hey! I'm so glad you've been enjoying my work! Sorry it took me awhile to get this out to you. I had so many ideas for it but I couldn't decide what I wanted to do. Hope you enjoy it! 😁

Prompt# 20: "How long did you think that you could hide that?"

Prompt# 34: "You're covered in blood, need to tell me anything?"

Prompt# 35: "It's just a headache, I'm fine."

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Love is a Battlefield

The new General doesn't want to ask for help. Commander Wolffe does so anyway.

Warnings: Blood. Angst. Battlefield scenes. Hurt/Comfort.

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"Okay, today officially sucks." You grumbled under your breath, cursing whatever cosmic Force led you to be in your current state. Groaning you dragged yourself back over the ledge and collapsed in the mud. Everything hurt. Your clothes were stiff with dried and drying blood and at this point, you weren't sure if it belonged to you or to those damn splox who's nest you'd fallen into. Probably both.

Ok, now to find the rest of the company. You were sure that you hadn't strayed too far from the battlefield when you'd been drug off by battle droids and thrown from a cliff in the resulting fight. But hey, at least you took them down with you. You thought, cracking a smile. Master Plo would've been proud. On the other hand, you frowned, you had gotten separated from everyone else - so maybe not so much.

You drew a sharp breath between your teeth. A burning, grating feeling radiated from your side as you stepped over a rock and nearly fell to the ground. You paused for a moment to let your tunneling vision focus again, fighting back the urge to throw up. Maybe some of the blood was actually yours. The trek back to camp was going to take much longer than you expected.

Good. Maybe that would give you time to mull over the conversation you'd had yesterday morning with the commander of you battalion.

You were sure it was the reason that Commander Wolffe was ignoring you earlier today.

***

You'd chosen to continue on with the battalion after Master Plo had received an urgent message from the Council, recalling him from the field. Wolffe disagreed.

"You're injured!" He snapped, more forcefully than intended.

You sighed rolling your eyes. "It's just a headache. I'm fine. You know I've had worse, Commander." It was more than a headache, probably a concussion due to the nausea and dizziness that currently plagued you. But he didn't need to know that.

Wolffe pinched the bridge of his nose.

"General, I saw that spider droid fling you halfway across the battlefield. Can you at least go to medical to get checked out? I need you-" He froze, then coughed quickly, trying to pass off his slip-up as though he'd been interrupted mid sentence. "We. We need you. Your men need you at your best, general."

He coughed again and quickly left the room, leaving you frozen in place.

***

Did he really say that? You replayed his words in your head over and over again.

"I need you."

You couldn't deny that it had shaken you. You couldn't deny that it had hit you in such a way that made your whole body tingle and flood with warmth. As much as you tried to suppress it and convince yourself it was nothing, you had found yourself staring at the Commander a lot recently. The way he confidently carried himself, the subtle spark in his eye, the way he cared for his men even though he hid it behind that abrasive and sarcastic front - it was all so perfect. So attractive. So him.

No, he couldn't have meant it like that. You were his superior and even more importantly, you were a Jedi. No attachment allowed. He definitely couldn't have meant it like that. It was simply a slip of the tongue. He felt nothing for you and you felt nothing for him. You told yourself that your infatuation wasn't real. Commander Wolffe was a good solider and your fondness for him was simply a professional sense of pride. That's all.

Distant voices interrupted your brooding. Several clone troopers were searching high and low, calling out for someone but you didn't quite catch the name.

"Who are we looking for?" You walked up to the trooper closest to you. His shiny white armor was streaked with mud and ash - one of the new guys. Splash, they'd christened him on account of the puddle of mud he'd landed in immediately after jumping from the gunship into the field. It was hard to believe you'd only been here for three days. It felt like three years.

"We're looking for the General!" He explained hurriedly, hardly giving you a side glance.

Your heart dropped. Surely not Master Plo. Had he not left for Coruscant after all? Your hero and former master had seemed invincible ever since he'd chosen you to be his Padawan.

"General Plo Koon?" You asked hesitantly.

Splashed grunted as he stepped over a log. "No, the other one."

A wave of relief washed over you. You could've laughed out loud if your head wasn't so cloudy. Your side screamed with every step. You took a shallow breath, trying to ground yourself.

I am one with the force and the force is with me. I am one with the force and the force is with me.

Supplementing with the force wouldnt last long and it was draining, but it was better than the agony you'd been in. You took a deep breath, allowing the pain to become a whisper and looked back up at the clone.

"Well you found her!" You joked.

"What?" He stood up looking confused. Then he looked over at you.

Splash straightened up upon realizing that he had indeed found the General. He was glad he was wearing his bucket because he could feel his face turning red with embarrassment. He scrambled stiffly to attention. "Uhm, sorry Sir. I mean Ma'am. Uh, General." He stuttered, trying to compose himself. You chuckled, wincing as the movement pulled at your wounded side. Splash looked alarmed as if he'd just realized that his General was covered in blood. "Are you injured, Ma'am?"

You grit your teeth to hide the pain. "No, I'm fine, thank you. I believe it all belongs to the splox that I killed. Fell into a nest of em."

He looked at you, unsure if you were being serious or not, trying to recall if the regulation manuals told him what to do in a situation like this.

"We should probably make our way to medical, all the same." He concluded. "Just to be safe. Get you checked out and all." He offered his arm.

You shook your head. "No that's alright. They're much too busy right now, seeing as the battle has just ended."

"Well I'm sure..."

You put a hand up to stop him. "It's fine, Splash. I can take care of myself. Let's worry about making our way back to camp."

"Of course, General."

***

You made your way back to camp and bid Splash a farewell. Exhausted, you yawned and slowly made your way back to your tent, passing the Commander's tent on your way there.

"General!" Commander Wolffe sprang to his feet the moment he saw you. "Are you alright, ma'am?"

His eyebrows knit tightly together with a frown. If you didn't know better, you almost thought he looked concerned. Worried even. But that would be stupid. You were reading too much into it. He was simply a solider looking out for the welfare of his commanding officer. That's it. Nothing more.

"I'm good!" You grinned, hoping he didn't notice the way your teeth ground against the pain in your head and now your side.

Wolffe's face became unreadable.

"Just good!?" He growled. "General, you are covered in blood. 'Good' does not even begin to cover it. Do you need to tell me something?"

Yes. I think I'm in love with you.

"No not really." You nonchantly shrugged. "It's not mine. Fell into a nest of those giant splox beetles and had to take em out before they ate me. You know how it is."

Wolffe rolled his eyes. He didn't believe you, but what could he do? He wasn't your superior, he couldn't order you to tell him. He made a note to ask Cody and Rex to let him into the clones-with-stubborn-generals club. He could sure use some advice.

"Could you be anymore bull-headed?" he wanted to yell at you as you left the room, interpreting his silence as the end of that conversation.

Wolffe groaned in frustration. Why did he care so much? Why did the thought of you being wounded send waves of terror cascading through his core. You were acting strange, subtly walking as though every step sent agony shooting through your body thinking nobody would notice. He noticed. He wanted to pick you up in his arms and bandage your wounds. He wanted to softly kiss each scar on your skin.

You were a good leader. He understood wanting to be tough, wanting to be strong for the soldiers under your command. If he was honest with himself, he did the same.

You trudged wearily back to your tent, ignoring the pain that was slowly returning to full force with a vengeance as though it was angry at being willed into submission.

You made it a point to avoid medical. The dwindling amount of medical supplies worried you. It was only a matter of time before they would run out if they weren't sent relief. The chief medical officer had drastically downplayed the dire straits the company was in when you asked him. You'd seen the inventory. It was scarce. It wouldn't be right, going to medical right now. Not when you could most likely patch yourself up with the small medkit by your bunk. The clones made up the backbone of the GAR, it was only right that they take priority over you.

***

It was a miracle of the Force that you hadn't passed out by the time you reached the tent. Biting your lip to keep you from making too much noise, you peeled off your shirt to assess the damage, grabbing a towel from the shelf.

You bit back a pained moan and your vision swam as you gripped the edge of your cot to steady yourself. A large gash curled around the side of your chest from the bottom of your breast to your hip. The torn skin bled heavily, quickly turning the towel a crimson red.

This was...not good.

The com chirped, making you jump. You felt dazed and exhausted. Closing your eyes, you took a deep breath before answering the com. Sergeant Sinker's brisk voice echoed from the device.

"General, the clankers are moving in from the North. They've engaged the front and the 501st is calling for aid. What are your orders?"

Your men needed you. Who were you to ignore them? What kind of leader would you be if you sent them off while you stayed behind. "A good leader leads by example" Master Plo always said. You were tired of the animalistic way the clones were treated - as if they were only droids or worse. You would be there for your men, fighting right up front beside them. Right beside Commander Wolffe.

You lit up the com. "Proceed with the request, Sergeant. I'll be there shortly."

You looked at the medkit. Well, so much for that. You quickly taped up the wound and slapped some bacta treated gauze on it. Then you quickly changed your clothes, willing yourself to ignore the nauseating pain. You steadied yourself with a hand on the wall before wiping the cold sweat from your clammy skin. You tried to breathe, once more closing your eyes in meditation once again squashing down the pain. The show must go on. The General must lead her men into battle.

***

General Skywalker was right to call for aid. The Separatist forces were throwing everything they had at you. You jumped over the guns of a tank, slicing through the controls to disable it. Droid after droid came at you from all sides and you cut them down. If only the Commander could see you now in all your glory.

An explosion knocked you off your feet, wrenching you from your stupor. Pain surged through your body as you pushed yourself to your feet. The continuous onslaught of enemy forces wasn't so fun now. You began to realize just how tired you were. Trying to catch your breath felt as futile as swimming in honey. Your mind felt sluggish and your arms felt like lead. A B2 took aim and fired. You saw him fire and raised your saber to block but it was a fraction of a second too slow and the blast hit your shoulder. Kriff. You hit the ground hard, letting the awful, searing pain wash over you. You wanted to close your eyes. You wished you could just rest. Just for a moment.

Your eyes flew back open. No. The men need you. Get up. Shakily you forced yourself to your knees and onto your feet. One more time. You knew this was abusing the force but it was for an honorable reason. Right?

I am one with the force and the force is with me. I am one with the force and the force is with me. Pain is temporary. Accept it simply as a signal sent by the body. Accept the pain. Respect it. Don't fight it. Ask your body to begin to heal.

You let out a feral scream, pouring every last ounce of energy and willpower into your prayers, knocking back an entire wave of droids. And then you felt nothing.

***

My head. The first thing you noticed upon regaining consciousness was the skull splitting headache that you could almost feel radiating down your entire body. It felt as though someone was spearing red hot needles through your eyeballs, twisting them through the many sections of your brain. The pain made you nauseous.

An agonized wheeze drifted from your lips as you tried to raise your hands to cup your face. When did my arms get so heavy? Pain shot through your side and shoulder as you tried to move. Panic gripped you when you couldn't.

"Ah kriff," a gruff voice cursed. "Hey! General. General, it's okay. Calm down. You're safe." You'd know that voice anywhere - it was the only clear thing that cut through the haze of pain. Commander Wolffe.

He barked a command at someone and after a few minutes the pain had loosened it's claws. It wasn't much but it was better than before.

"What do you need, General? Are you still in pain?"

"Lights," you managed to groan. Even that took too much energy and you desperately hoped that you wouldn't be sick in front of the Commander.

Wolffe immediately jumped from his chair, quickly shutting off the lights. That helped some, but not much. It still felt like your head was being lobotomized by a pickaxe. Your side and shoulder felt like they'd been broken off and trampled by a bantha. A bantha that was on fire maybe.

"You are so kriffing stubborn, you know that!?" Wolffe growled. Seeing you wince, he lowered his volume but continued with the hard and bitter tone.

"How long did you think you could hide that!? Hmm?" He motioned to your side.

"You almost died yesterday." He said, softening his voice ever so slightly.

Wolffe looked tired. His eyes were sunken and even his cybernetic one had a dark shadow beneath it. He looked like he hadn't shaved or showered since the battle. His grey armor was still scuffed up with dirt and grime. A small bacta patch adorned his right eyebrow.

You looked away, shame burning at the corners your eyes, adding to the overwhelming pressure in your head. You failed him and now he hated you. You turned your head away from him wincing at the pain but you couldn't bear to have him see the tears that rolled down your cheeks.

"Look at me." A command. He didn't have the authority to give you a command, but you felt compelled to comply all the same. Hastily wiping your eyes in a futile attempt at seeming alright, you turned towards him. Your breath caught as he wrapped his hand around your wrist, pulling it from your face.

"Stop kriffing pretending that you're okay." Still a command, but this one felt softer. His voice still held the rough, bitter edge that defined him so well but as you met his eyes, they held an uncertain gaze of vulnerability.

"Your men need you alive. They care about you, General." He paused, pacing back and forth in the dark room. He came to a stand still by the foot of your bed, refusing to meet your gaze, as though he had something he wanted to say. Finally he took a deep breath and slowly let it out.

"Oh kriff it." He snapped. "I care about you, damnit!" He shook his head and began to pace again, the anger returning to his visage.

"General Plo said you could've died." He spat. "He said that you had spread yourself so thin, used up so much energy that you could've killed yourself. Do you..." He cut himself off and took another breath, clenching his fists tightly. "Do you know what that would've done to this company. Do you know what that would've done to me!?"

There was fire in his eyes when he looked back up at you. "It would've killed me too."

You lay there in your bed staring at him - shocked at this outburst. What was he saying? That he cared for you? That he loved you? That he thought about you as much as you thought about him?

"I.." you began softly.

"No. I'm not done."

You shut your mouth.

"General, when you came back to camp covered in blood, I had to restrain myself from throwing you over my shoulder and taking you to medical myself. I knew something was wrong but I trusted that you knew what you were doing. It was the same when I saw you collapse yesterday. It took everything in me not to race to your side."

He shook his head, disappointed in himself, and angry with you. "I should be holding the line with my men, not babysitting my General!"

You stared blankly ahead, letting his anger wash over you. So that's how he saw you. That solves one problem, you tried to convince yourself. It was good that he didn't reciprocate your feelings. That made it easier to cleanse yourself of any feeling of attachment. But then why didn't hurt so bad? Why did it feel like a part of your soul had been sawed away? Wasn't letting go of your emotions supposed to bring you peace? This crushing weight of disappointment and heartbreak was anything but peace.

The room was quiet save for the beeps and whirs of the medical equipment around you. The silence felt deafening. Then finally Wolffe let out a sigh.

"I'm....sorry..." The words dragged themselves reluctantly from his mouth.

You didn't respond.

The bed buckled slightly as Wolffe sat down on the edge. He tentatively rested a hand gently on your back, expecting you to recoil or stiffen under his touch. His eyebrows shot up in surprise as you leaned into his touch instead.

He sighed, rolling his neck. "Look," he began awkwardly. "I'm not good at this kind of thing so I'm just going to be honest with you. I..." He stopped. You turned your face towards his. He took a breathe, not daring to make eye contact. "I think I'm in love with you. Kriff. No, I know I'm in love with you."

You gasped, the dam broke and tears began to stream down your face.

Wolffe jumped up, startled and clearly embarrassed. "I...I mean... I... I didn't mean..." The normally confident Commander stumbled over his words in a shameful horror.

"No," you sobbed. You felt so relieved. Everything felt right again. "You didn't do anything wrong." He looked down at you, eybrows knitted upwards in confusion. "Then why..." He motioned to your tearful face.

"Because I love you too and I was afraid that you hated me. I was afraid that everyone would see me as a terrible General. And also my everything hurts and..." you sobbed, "...and I love you so much."

Wolffe looked down at you with amusement and a strange softness took hold of his features - a foreign look for his usually serious demeanor.

"You look nice when you smile," you whispered with a small grin. "But you can go back to frowning if that's more comfortable for you."

Wolffe rolled his eyes as he settled down in a chair beside your bed. "You should get some sleep, General." Back to his serious old self again but he kept that twinkle in his eye. Only for you. he thought.

"I'll be right here when you wake up."

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

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[knightprincess]

Scars (Commander Wolffe x Jedi Reader) Part 1

Words: 2.7k Warning: Implied injury - stubborn, suspicious Wolffe - Bit of fluff Pronouns Use: She/Her - (Y/N)

Everything seemed normal enough when (Y/N) arrived at the temporary military base the 104th and Master Plo had set up. The command center had the perfect tactical advantage, a view of the battlefield, but at a safe distance, it couldn't be easily attacked. A perimeter had been set up, with an airfield, ensuring all those coming and going would be safe. Next to the commander center were the barracks, mess hall, medbay, and weapons depo, all perfectly organized. 

Plo had met (Y/N) at her designated landing bay; he greeted his former padawan in a similar manner to his warm greeting to Ahsoka. Full of care, fatherly and warm. His words to follow the same and filled with gentleness and wise advice. Almost as if he knew there would be an instant coldness between his former Padawan and his trusted Commander. After all, Wolffe had made his destain almost hatred for the Children of Dathomir plain, and (Y/N) would be the first Night Sister he would truly be dealing with since Ventress had taken his eye. 

The hours after her arrival hadn't been much trouble either. Wolffe hadn't been seen, normally preoccupied with other tasks that come with being Commander. On the other hand, the other troopers had greeted her with friendliness and curiosity. Boost, Comet, and Sinket had been the first three to approach, neither of them being afraid to voice their questions or try their hand at flirting. One by one, others came by with a hello and the intention of introducing themselves; neither one acted like she was any different from the other Jedi they worked with. Instead, the one to point out her obvious Dathomirian features was the Civvi Medic assigned to the 104th; the other Wolffe seemed to avoid like the plague or growled if they had to interact. Although to be fair, the petite woman did seem to avoid the commander just as much, normally shaking with fear and likely unspoken judgment when attending to him. 

When the afternoon was slowly turning to dusk, (Y/N) left the safety of the perimeter, hoping to find a quiet area nearby to meditate; being extremely attuned to the force, the unheard voices were loud in the base, as were the flood of emotions threatening to overwhelm her. (Y/N) clumsiness had led her to discover the unstable ground, leading to cave chasms that went down for miles; the darkness seemed to swallow everything that fell down it, even the glow sticks meant to offer light.

Making a mental note of the undesirable drop and likely death trap hidden within the endless shadows (Y/N) found a flat rocky surface to sit upon; there, she shifted until she was comfortable and began to meditate or attempt it. Within minutes of finding peaceful mindfulness, she had sensed another heading her way, navigating the minefield of unstable ground and dropping to uncertainty. Upon realizing the approaching intruder wasn't someone she recognized, she instinctively reached for her lightsabers, prepared to defend herself if needed, although she had hoped it wouldn't get that far. 

As if sensing something was off, (Y/N) opened her eyes, surveying the area in her proximity, although she did not see anything out of the ordinary. The rocks from the nearby cliff rushed down the drop from the wind left behind by the passing ships; the land around seemed to stretch for miles, and the droid army seemed to be struggling to rebuild their own commander center far into the distance. A planned surprise attack was unlikely to be on their agenda just yet.

"Careful, the ground ..." started (Y/N), finally seeing who the intruder was. Commander Wolffe. His low growls had cut off her line of thought and subsequent words. His stiff shoulders and crossed arms over his chest made it clear he wasn't in the mood to converse with her. Although it was rather obvious, he followed her. The question was whether that was entirely out of concern, suspicion, or something else. 

"You left the base," he stated, his voice direct and to the point, although void of all emotion, matching his cold demeanor.

"Well noticed," (Y/N) replied, failing to stop the sarcasm before it could fall from her lips. Although she held back the chuckle that threatened to follow it upon sensing the eye roll, Wolffe sent her from beneath his modified helmet. 

"Why?" asked the commander, although frustration and annoyance rang through his voice this time, once again suggesting he'd literally rather be anywhere but in her presence. 

"To meditate," she commented, returning the annoyance and frustration presented to her, although the Jedi Knight at least tried to keep a neutral expression, even in the face of judgment and unwarranted hostility. "I'm not fretting with the enemy, Commander. I just needed quiet; the emotions and voices can be overwhelming." 

"That's what your quarters are for," he uttered in a quick response, drawing an eye roll from (Y/N) as she climbed down from her position on the flat lump of rocks. Refusing to utter another word, she began to walk away from the Commander, further away from the base, hoping to find another quiet place to continue her meditation. A sigh quickly escaped her upon sensing Wolffe was once again following her, although this time only a few feet behind.  

"Woah!" yelled Wolffe upon the ground, cracking and giving away like thin ice the moment he stomped on it. He expected to fall helpless into the darkness, but instead, he'd stopped in mid-air, just dangling. The force someone was using the force to prevent him from falling to certain doom. Immediately, Wolffe presumed it was General Plo, the ever-caring fatherly figure. Confusion took over when Wolffe looked up to see (Y/N) trying her hardest to use her power to bring him to safety, a concentrated look painted on her features, determination mixed in. "It's cracking," called the Commander upon noticing the ground beneath her about to give way. 

But by the time his words reached her, both of them were falling. All Wolffe could do was flay his limps and yell out as the darkness swallowed him. He hit several rocks and other hard surfaces on the way down before the fall ended with a loud, wet splash into the freezing waters of an underground lake. He soon climbed out of the water, resting on the rocky bank, looking up with the hope of seeing daylight, only to be met with the unyielding darkness that seemed to go on forever. With a heavy, frustrated sigh, he began to assess the damage to his armor. The chest plate had been cracked, and a shoulder and forearm plate shattered to the point of being unless. 

Just as he was about to continue, his attention was drawn to the lightsaber lying by the rocks of the bank close by. The hilt was mainly black with silver decoration; it appeared damaged and stained with something. Just as Wolffe was about to question who it belonged to, his heart sank upon recalling the ground cracking. 

"Nightsister," called Wolffe, a prang of guilt flooding him as he regretted his refusal to learn her name. "Nightsister," he called again, pushing the fear away when no answer came. However, that sudden wave of fear grew upon noticing the lightsaber hilt was stained with blood. The realization hit him: she was injured and had been by selflessly trying to save him from the fall. Ignoring his own pain and obvious injuries, Wolffe got to wobbly feet and slowly began to shuffle forward across the bank in the hopes of seeing the Jedi who'd tried to prevent his fall. 

He hoped she was ignoring him; after all, he'd ignore someone calling him if they treated him as he'd done with her, but the more he searched, the more he called out Nightsister in an attempt to locate her. The feeling of dread gripped him. What if she wasn't ignoring him? Could she be injured? Was she even in the same part of the cave as him? Did she even fall down the chasm in the first place? 

"She's not in the cave with you, Wolffe," muttered Wolffe, his voice as cold as the lake he'd landed in. As he began to shiver, about to give up, the commander noticed something. A trail of blood, it was fresh; someone had landed there and was trying to hide, injured. "Nightsister," called Wolffe again, this time softer than before, quieter as if trying to convey he wasn't a threat despite his previous demeanor and actions. "I'm not going to hurt you," he called, realizing if she was injured, she likely believed whomever she was trapped with was trying to harm her. He'd been the same after Ventures had slashed out his eye. Even General Plo was considered an enemy in his mind. Anyone with a lightsaber had been for a short time. 

"Wolffe," came a quiet voice, no louder than a whisper. But in the quietness of the cave, it was loud enough for the Commander to hear to locate her. Hearing his name fall from her lips only made his guilt grow. She knew his name and took the time to learn it instead of calling him by his identification number or his rank of Commander. And he'd refused to learn anything about her after learning she was a Child of Dathomir. "Are you hurt?" she asked, her voice heavy with deep breaths filled with pain; she was hurt but refused to admit it. 

"Not as bad as you, Ca'tra," answered Wolffe, grimacing as he moved to sit beside her, holding her lightsaber out as if to return it. Slowly, he surveyed the extent of her injuries, almost horrified. Several joints had been dislocated, a large gash stretched across her side, and a nasty laceration now adorned the side of her head. There was little doubt she'd suffered broken bones as well. 

"Sorry about your landing," (Y/N) whispered. "It was either that or impaled on the rock spires," she added, lifting a shaky hand to point in the general direction of the spires in question. "There's a small med kit in my pack," she instructed, being thankful she'd been wise enough to have a pack ready for emergencies. Inside was a medical kit, water, ration bars, glow sticks, other forms of light, and another communicator in case the one attached to her arm was damaged. 

"Stay awake, Ca'tra," voiced Wolffe, softness beginning to take over, as was the worry and concern. In the minutes since finding her, her eyes had glazed over, and she was slowly losing consciousness. "Talk to me," he added, reaching for the pack and its scattered contents, a renewed sense of determination. She saved him twice in a matter of minutes, with little regard for her own safety or well-being. She suffered because of it. He had to repay the debt he felt he owed her. 

"Ca'tra," (Y/N) tiredly responded, confusion just about present through the pain. "What does it mean?" she asked, looking to Wolffe with glazed-over eyes, a grimace quickly flashing across her features upon pain tormenting her further. 

"Night sky," admitted Wolffe, deeming it be better to call her that than Nightsister. Especially now when he was beginning to wonder if calling her by Nightsister was offensive in some way. "I don't know your name," he added, shame washing through his whispered voice. Swearing under his breath when he dropped the contents of the medkit, his hands shaking so much from the cold. In his rushed attempt to collect all the items, he hadn't noticed (Y/N) reach for the stem cell injections. Although she did hold out the bacta gel 

"(Y/N)," she spoke in response, not arguing when the call of sleep as it became too persistent to fight, too strong to ignore. She hadn't been given the chance to say she liked the small nickname. The small kindness meant something to her, even if it didn't mean anything to Wolffe. 

"(Y/N), wake up," called Wolffe upon grabbing her shoulders to shake her. The shakes had been little more than light nudges, hoping to prevent her from falling asleep, but gotten rougher upon the Commander realizing she'd already fallen for the lure of the peaceful oblivion. "You're not getting away from me that easy, Ca'tra," he added, remembering he had the bacta gel. Upon applying a generous amount to her wounds, he turned his attention to his own and his previous task of assessing the damage to his armor. 

"Little (Y/N), Commander Wolffe," spoke the wise and welcome voice of Master Plo, concern flooding his otherwise fatherly voice. Wolffe quickly grabbed (Y/N)'s arm, puzzled by how the small communications device was still intact, let alone working. "(Y/N), Wolffe, can either of you hear me?" asked Plo, his voice fuzzy now, as if he'd moved away from the area. 

"I read you, General," spoke Wolffe, relief ringing in his own voice, mixing with his concern and pain. 

"Are you okay? Is (Y/N) with you?" questioned Plo, likely already realizing the ground had given way. Although where was the question? Once again, Wolffe focused on looking up, hoping to see some sort of light that would say how far down they were, whether from the sky so far above them or the light of a rescue ship. But again, was greeted with nothing but empty darkness. 

"We're both pretty banged up; I would have been worse off if she hadn't pushed me out the way," admitted the Commander, thankful for her selflessness but still feeling guilty. Even more so upon the realization hitting him, she'd put herself in far more danger by forcing him away from the spires and towards the freezing lake. "She's currently unconscious and needs immediate medical attention," he added with haste, once again reaching to gently shake her with the hopes she'd wake up, again being met with no response. 

"Keep the communicator on; we'll use it to track your position," stated Plo, the authority now ringing in his voice, likely to mask the growing concern and worry for his commander and former padawan. 

"Come on, Ca'tra, wake up. Help is coming," started Wolffe, finally removing his helmet and allowing his eyes to adjust to the dim light of the glow sticks. Finally, he noticed his visor had been broken during the fall and a gash towards the bottom of the scraped helmet. "Why did you save me? Why would you risk your own life like that? I'm just a clone; only my brothers and General Plo would care if something happened to me," he mumbled, not hearing the ow to escape (Y/N)'s lips or even notice she'd barely regained consciousness. 

"Wrong. I care," she whispered with a broken voice, startling the Commander trapped with her. 

"But ... but I was cold to you ... harsh ... unfair," stammered Wolffe as he attempted to put his scrambled thoughts into words and overcome the shock; not only had she heard his words but answered with the last thing he'd expected to hear. She cared despite everything. 

"I know," replied (Y/N), trying her hardest to show her understanding. "I understand why you were quick to judge me. Fear can be cruel even to the toughest of men. I do not blame you for it. No one does. That was your way of dealing with the trauma, to ensure it wouldn't happen again," she replied, recalling her similar response to trauma as a child. She'd been incorporated into the order the same year Anakin Skywalker had joined the Jedi. She was ignored and judged with fear because of something she had no control over. 

She'd lost everything, and just when she had settled into what would be her new life. Things had gotten worse; someone had taken her from the temple and hurt her. Someone she should have been able to trust. Her rescuers had been far kinder. A pair of renowned bounty hunters, Cad Bane and Jango Fett. They saw her as the scared and broken child she was rather than the threat she'd been treated as. 

"I lost trust in the council a long time ago. Blamed myself for what happened," she breathed in response; a pained chuckle escaped her lips upon seeing the confusion written across Wolffe's bruised features. "If it wasn't for the efforts of Master Plo and a few others. I likely wouldn't be civil with the majority of them," admitted (Y/N), although refusing to relive what happened all those years ago by talking about it. Not that she could. Chancellor Palpatine had locked all files about the incident and her life before the Jedi. Reasoning it was for her own safety and to prevent what happened repeating again. 

Series Masterlist

[euphoriacafe]

What if it was all over?

What if the order 66 never happened- the Republic had won the battle- the galaxy was safe finally. Of course, you would only be finding out when someone screamed on the top of their lungs in the bar that it was finally over.

You were standing in your kitchen, washing any dishes you dirtied from dinner. This was how it was usually- dinner alone every night and occasionally you would have it with him.

Yes, him.

He was the one who rarely had the time since of course…he was a solider- like he would say, ‘It’s his duty to put the republic before anything else.’

Rough. That’s what it felt like.

But when shore leave would come around for him, he would be making a beeline to your home. He would knock and then spend his time holding you…caring for you…loving you.

He said he didn’t want to form attachments because the war’s were dangerous and there’s always a chance he doesn’t make it. The other excuse was it was against their protocol to have families or to even be seeing anyone- but something always drew him back to that very door.

It’s almost a week already since the news that the war was won. Yet, he never returned.

What is something happened to him?

What if he was just using you to take his stress out?

What if-

What if-

Your thoughts raced and your heart felt like it was slowly breaking as it ached at the terrible thoughts. You held onto the counter as support letting your caf become cold and watered down.

The kitchen was dark and cold.

You felt used…alone…conflicted…hurt.

You didn’t hear the door open or close since you were locked into your thoughts- you had a small tears rolling down your cheeks as you were looking down at the counter.

With your back being exposed from the shirt you wore- you suddenly felt a warm hand tracing from your shoulder blades to your shoulder.

Another hand was gently placed onto your hip.

What knocked you out of your thoughts was the lips that pressed against your shoulder blade to the other side of your exposed neck.

It was him.

Wolffe.

You felt your muscles relax under his warm touch to your cold goosebump skin. His voice was raspy, tired, low.

“Cyar'ika, I’m home.”

You turned around to look up to him scanning his face for any hint of if this was your imagination or if it was real.

You reached your hand upwards towards his face placing it onto his cheek, his eyes went from love to worry at the sight of you crying.

“You’re…really here.” You whispered in disbelief.

“I…you…” You stuttered over your words being but off completely with Wolffe dragging you towards his body to hold you.

“I’m here cyar'ika,” He spoke laying his head on top of yours, time finally seemed to be going slow. “And I’m not leaving you again…I’m here.”

“It’s all over…I’m not leaving you.” He whispered holding you closer.

You closed your eyes taking in his scent, he wasn’t wearing his top armor over his blacks. His body was warm.

You melted into his grasp listening to his heartbeat.

~

If you enjoyed this post- please reblog and like. It’s not a necessary but it’s gladly appreciated!

[fandom-friday]

Hello friend Karrde!

I hope that all here have been well and prosperous, or at least not buried in snow like me. I have more offerings again for the rec list! I apologize because this is gonna be a whopper of a list too, totally understand if it doesn't make it in this week.

On the Art side of things:

@pinkiemme has been rocking our world with both Commanders Wolffe and Mayday... such scrumptiousness. But then I saw this panel of Captain Rex and... (crying).

@rexxdjarin again with the thick and healthy series latest Echo and Gregor... the study of muscular anatomy is so on point!

@sunshinesdaydream has given us the adorable duo of Hardcase and Sparks

@spicyclones79s has gifted us Omega & Hunter, Commander Wolffe, and a very sweet Foxio

@ladykagewaki always has my heart with the Bebe batch snuggles But also Ms. Fangirl has shared how to summon Echo (May contain spoilers!)

@cloned-eyes made me smile with Wrecker and his little friends but then sob when I saw Jenot.

Comic Recs!:

@paperback-rascal is back with mercy and co with an interesting neurologic finding on Major 40

Fic Recs!:

@pickleprickle 's Newest fic features an injured Mace Windu in the wake of the Empire's rise in Shattered Sunrise. When I say I binged the first two chapters... go read!

if anyone is in need of a Howzer Fic after @the-rain-on-kamino has just reposted their Exigency series. I didn't get a chance to read it the first time and am making my way through it now and let me tell ya... the love, the longing, the CAPTAIN! oh and the build up to the SMUT!

Hopefully I'll have the other comic pieces gathered together for next week and a few more recs. Till then happy reading!

This is one HECK of a list that's got a little something for every TCW/TBB fan out there! I love all of the artwork, and the fics are phenomenal!!!

(Quick correction: the art of Hardcase and Sparks was a commission done by @cloned-eyes)

As always, THANK YOU for taking the time to pull all these together!!

Participate in Fandom Friday to show your favorite creators from this week some love! :)

[frostycatblr-fandom-files]

Poets and Painters Masterlist

In desperate need of just one day to take his and his men's mind off the war, Plo Koon orders that everyone make a stop on a relatively uninhabited planet in a peaceful sector of the galaxy to… have a picnic? Just what does he have in mind? A certain flint-gray Commander is finding it hard to believe that they're just on the planet for a day of R&R in the middle of a war, so he isn't letting his guard down. Perhaps someone will help Commander Wolffe find some way to help him relax before the day is over…

RATING: Mature | STATUS: Complete | POV: 2nd Person | GN Reader

☀️Early Morning

🌤️Midday

⛅Late Afternoon

🌓Evening

🌕Deep Night

🌄Golden Dawn Part 1

🌄Golden Dawn Part 2

Started 9/15/23 | Finished 2/29/24 | Total word count: 43,005

[Masterlist] [TCW Masterlist]

[ladyzirkonia]

My Commander

What if a missile is to hit your beloved commander but your're not skilled enough like fucking Obi Wan to deflect it properly.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Jedi!GN!Reader

Tags & Warnings: angst, hurt, violence, injury, implied death

Word Count: 786

Author's note: I really wanted to write something spicy, but this little idea came into my mind. Inspired by the unforgetable scene when Obi Wan rescues Cody from the missile. This time it might end not well. I'll hope you enjoy neverless. Not proof-read.

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Jedi

The darkness was surrounding you. Your ears were ringing as you faintly noticed the sound of screams and gunshots around you. You tried to open your eyes slowly and blink, but your body felt numb and you couldn't move your arms or legs while the pain was almost unbearable, threatening to cause you to lose consciousness once again. Suddenly, you heard a muffled and suppressed voice above your face and you felt someone leaning over you. With the last of your strength, you opened your eyes and smiled in relief as you recognized the face of the Clone Commander above you. His typically stern expression was marked by a mixture of concern and anger. You would have probably laughed about his gaze if the pain in your body hadn't paralyzed you. You tried to gather your strength to say something as you suddenly felt a large, rough hand gripping yours firmly, while his healthy and cybernetic eye both stared at you with an uncertain expression. Finally, his suppressed, rumbling voice reached your ears as you desperately tried to keep your eyes open.

"Why?!"

Wolffe had not been happy when he found out that you had been assigned to this mission. Unlike the rest of his Wolfpack, who seemed to hold a fondness for this particular Jedi. While his squad had already accepted you into their little sworn group on the journey to your destination, the Commander had remained silent and serious, watching the whole scene full of disapproval. While the other boys of the pack had always made fun of your uneasy and teasing relationship with their commander, they didn't dare say a word of disrespect when Wolffe was in your presence. You had developed a soft spot for the outwardly intimidating but loyal commander a for quite a while, and at the same time, you always harbored the feeling that he didn't particularly like your loud and enthusiastic personality. The more you attempted to approach Wolffe and build a better relationship with him, the more he closed himself off, and the more biting his remarks towards you became.

When you finally stood on the battlefield deflecting shot after shot from the enemy army, you were horrified to see a hostile projectile flying directly at Wolffe. You immediately realized that he had no chance of defending himself against the missile or even surviving if he was hit, and thereupon didn't hesitate for a second to throw yourself in front of him deflecting the projectile with a desperate swing of your lightsaber. The next moment your body was thrown through the air, struck by the explosion you caused by hitting the projectile in the wrong spot, but still saving Wolffe from most of the damage it caused.

You should probably be panicking. You felt that something was wrong, but the sight of the commander calmed you down. As he repeated his words, some despair seemed to shine through his voice.

''Why did you do this? You barely know me, Jedi.'', he asked with his deep and huffed voice.

You smiled gently, with no regret in your gaze. You had to choose your words carefully, as each one involved great effort.

''I deeply care about you. I shouldn't, but I can't deny that...''

You knew instinctively that now was not the time to hide your feelings. Wolffe looked at you and seemed lost for a moment, but his hard shell slowly crumbled down as he squeezed your cold hand tighter. His warm hand in yours felt just right, you felt safe despite everything what happened.

''How could that be? I'm just another Commander, another Clone'', he murmured as exasperation slowly spreads through his voice.

''No, not to me.'', you whispered firmly, clenching your lips together from exhaustion as you examine his face one last to time. Even though your body begun to tremble slightly, your face seemed calm and determined in contrast to the Commander starring at you and visibly loosing his composure at the realization of your words.

You reached out to touch his cheek and mumbled with the last of your strength, "Wolffe, you are not just a Commander, you are my Commander.

Wolffe inhales sharply, pressing your hand tightly against his chest as he notices that you seemed to lose you consciousness again.

''NO!! Stay with me! I am... I'm your Commander, do you hear?!? Just stay with me!'', he shouts full of despair. But you just smiled as you heard him speak. "Your Commander," his words repeated over and over in your head as your eyes slowly fell shut again.

''Don't leave me,'' you hear his voice echoing from far away, as you feel his lips touch yours gently and a deep serenity fills your body before the darkness surrounded you again.

[incorrect-clone-bros]

Please help me find a fic!

It's a set of headcanons about how the clones would act around a flirty jedi reader. There were some headcanons about the bad batch in there too, what the other jedi would think of the reader, and some general stuff about the 501st, 212th, 104th, coruscant guard, etc. The only defining trait I remember from the whole post is there's a gif at the top which I'm pretty sure shows Wolffe with his helmet on - other than that I can't remember who wrote it or what the title is. Any help would be greatly appreciated!!

[littlenephilim999uriel]

HI! i was just wondering if you could do a wolffe story? if you haven’t done any yet! creativity is all up to you 🥰

“I tried my best to not feel anything for you. Guess what? I failed.”

I really hope you like it. I am a little rusty since I have not written any Stories in sooooo long.

It was another successful Mission with the 104th Battelion. Her Master Plo Koon and the Jedi Council are very happy with her growth and she knows it is only a matter of time before she will become a Jedi Knight. The Padawan of course knows what this means. She will leave her Master and the 104th to get her own Battalion of very capable soldiers. Still the tought scared her more than anything. She never wanted to leave the Men that became her Family and the tought alone made a knot form in her throat bringing her close to tears. Normally she would be drinking and laughing with the Men but not today,no the words from her Master were still fresh in her Mind.

"You did well my Padawan." Plo Koons Voice was filled with Pride which made her Smile as well. "Thank you Master." She answered to which he only nodded before he continued talking. "I am very happy to tell you that you soon will be no longer a Padawan." (y/n) furrowed her brows at that giving him a confused look that made him chuckle. "Now don't look so worried. You will of course become a Jedi Knight and will lead your very own Battalion." Her Master sounded so proud yet those News didn't make her as happy as she thought they would. "How soon will I leave Master?" Plo Koon felt the shift in the Force, the saddness radiating off of her. "If everything goes well within the next two weeks. (y/n) you don't seem all that Happy about it." The Padawan let out a sigh trying to pull a brave face. "I am just surprised. I just need some time." He only nodded understandingly. (y/n) then walked away leaving her worried Master behind.

Her leaving of course didn't go unnoticed by her Commander. Wolffe watched confused as she quickly hurried away instead of celebrating with them like always. Still Wolffe somehow manged to sneak away unnoticed and followed her. He didn't need to search for her all that long because he quickly found her leaning on the railing looking down at the City below her. Wolffe recognised the look on her face. One didn't need to be a Jedi to see the sadness in her Eyes.

She of course felt his presence long before he even got close to her and turned her head around to look at him sending him a soft smile. "Commander, shouldn't you be celebrating with your Brothers?" Wolffe only chuckled at that and slowly walked closer pulling off his Helmet. "I could say the same about you." (y/n) let out a laugh through her nose and sent him a playfull grin. "True." He then tilted his head at her looking rather worried. "You are sad." Was all he said which only made her laugh. "No shit Sherlock!" "Why?" Letting out a sigh she turned around to fully face him. "I will become a Jedi Knight soon and-" He then cut her off letting out a sigh himself. "And you will leave this Battalion to lead your own." She only nodded at that. "I don't want to leave you Guys. You are my Family... all I know." For the first time in so long Wolffe smiled softly. "We will miss you Commander. Though it will be a lot less stressfull without your airhead." He said teasingly to which she only sent him a playfull glare. Wolffe raised his Hands in defense laughing softly. "Only speaking the truth Sir." (y/n) laughed softly herself and looked back at the City below her. It was at this Moment that she decided to tell him the truth knowing that this Probably will be her only chance to ever do it.

Taking a deep breath she was considering her Words carefully. She then decided on what to say but didn't dare to look at the Men standing next to her. "I tried my best to not feel anything for you.” The relaxing atmosphere changed quickly as she said that. Wolffe blinked once, twice before looking at her with a confused expression not sure if he heard her correctly. As if finally gathering her courage she then turned towards him looking him in the eyes smiling sadly at him. "Guess what? I failed." He only stared at her in confusion. "What do you mean?" (y/n) cuckled softly and took a step closer to him. "It means that I Love you Wolffe. That is the reason why my Heart is filled with so much sadness at the tought of becoming a Full pleged Jedi Knight and leaving all of you behind." With a loud clank his Helmet fell out of his hand as his eyes grew bigger. Not really knowing what to say he only stared at her with confusion. Was this all a Dream? A cruel Joke she was playing on him? No she wouldn't do that. A Million thoughts raced through his head but he was finally pulled out of it as a warm and soft Hand gently took one of his in hers. "Wolffe I wish to stay with you." His eyes finally found hers again. "As do I." Was all he said which made her smile warmly up at him. They stared at eachother for a long while before he spoke up again. "Become a Jedi Knight (y/n)." This made her blink in confusion. But before she could ask why he would say that he kept speaking. "You worked so hard. Become a Jedi Knight and lead your own Battalion. I promise we will find a way to keep seing eachother." She softly nodded her head at that. "I will hold you up to that Promise Commander." He softly smiled at that and pulled her closer. On instinct she closed her eyes as he leaned up and placed a soft kiss on her forhead. So soft she almost didn't feel it. Wolffe then gently took her Face in his Hands to look into her eyes again.

"When have I ever lied to you."

[melissa-kenobi]

Remorse [Inqisitor!Cal Kestis x Reader]

A/N: yo amigos, I've had this in my drafts for yearsss and never got round to finishing it but I DID IT! had some random burst of Cal happiness and did it, so hopefully y'all enjoy, this was supposed to be a two parter, but like idk if I can even write it or not, so don't be expecting a 2nd part anytime soon, sorry guys! xxx

Word Count:

It was a simple patrol. That's all it was supposed to be.

You watched from your own star fighter as your Master's ship was shot down. You immediately dipped down and raced after him, trying to see if you could salvage him before his fighter exploded. What you didn't realise was that the enemy was still after you and your Master. You flipped your craft around and started shooting right back at them before realising who you were shooting at.

It was your own battalion. Your own troopers. The ones you had considered brothers. Family.

They were shooting non-stop at you, you quickly commed and tried to speak to your Commander.

"Wolffe! Come in! There's something wrong with Jag!"

Silence.

That was odd. Wolffe would always respond to you.

"Commander! Come in!" You tried again.

No reply. You grunted in frustration as you tried to get Jag off your tail but it was no use. He had called in back up and you were now surrounded by several other members of your own battalion.

There was no way you were going to make it out alive.

“Y/N!”

Your head turned quickly to your comms and you heard your master’s voice call your name. It sent a huge sense of relief as you looked to the left of you and you saw him signalling you to break left. He had given you an opening to escape which in result would leave him for dead this time. You didn’t want to leave your master, but with time running short, you had no choice.

Trust in the force my young padawan.

*****

Kashyyyk

You were on the run ever since the events of Order 66 and the rise of the empire, you clutched the holocron in your hands tightly as you ran from a bunch of stormtroopers guarding a secured building for the empire. You had managed to out run them and made way to your ship, the holocron held tightly in your hands.

A bunch of thieves had stolen your holocron in hopes of selling to gain some fortune, there was no way you were letting them get their hands on your holocron. The last piece that linked you to the Jedi, it was your only hope.

Safely in your ship you activated your cloaking mechanism as you closed your eyes and opened the holocron.

“This is Master Obi Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic, have fallen with a dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi.

Trust in The Force. Do not return to the Temple…that time has passed. And our future is uncertain.

We will each be challenged. Our trust. Our faith. Our friendships. But we must persevere. And in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you, always.”

Your eyes flickered open only to see a figure stood in front of you, dressed in black from head to toe. They wore a black helmet that covered their face, and on their hip, they held a strange form of a lightsaber hilt. It was curved and almost looked as if was a double sided lightsaber. It held the form of a crescent mode; it certainly was no ordinary lightsaber. You quickly emerged from your spot and stood opposite the figure; your hand held tightly on the hilt of your own lightsaber.

“A touching message.” The figure taunted as they approached you closer, almost intrigued by your presence.

“Who are you?”

The figure let out a sigh before reaching up to remove their helmet. The first thing you saw was his bright fiery auburn hair. It was a huge contrast against his pale skin, his eyes were filled with horror and hatred as he slowly started to circle you, his eyes taunting your every move. What stuck out most was his outfit, the mark of an inquisitor. You instantly pulled out your lightsaber and ignited it.

You had heard of inquisitors, they were trained by Darth Vader to hunt down the remaining Jedi and all those that practiced using the force. They were brutal and ruthless, and showed no mercy to those who were Jedi. By pulling out your lightsaber you had made a crucial mistake by revealing who you were.

"A Jedi." The man hummed as he stopped right in front of you. He reached out and placed a finger on your chin as he lifted your head to get a better look at you.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but you look like the padawan of Master Plo Koon." Your eyes widen in shock as this man knew of you and your master.

"A shame what happened to him. Shot down by his own men, it wasn't even an honourable death." The man taunted.

"What do you want?" You growled as you tightly held onto your lightsaber, hands tightening around the hilt.

"If you come with me peacefully, then maybe my master will show you mercy."

"Mercy? There is no mercy where you inquisitors are! Where was the mercy as I watched my fellow Jedi brothers and sisters fall as you struck them down?" You yell back, not realising that you were falling into the exact trap he wanted. You rushed at him with your lightsaber to which he quickly ignited his own and blocked you.

"How do you think it felt as I watched the children be killed before my very eyes? All while you, stood and watched proudly!" You aimed another hit at him only to have the man fall down on his knees as you pointed your lightsaber at his throat, his weapon discarded across the room while you stood tall towering above him.

"Yes Y/N... I can feel the anger rising through you! The hatred, use it. Kill me where I lay. Avenge your fallen Jedi!" The man laughed as she watched you struggle to get a grip on yourself. In that time, his fellow inquisitors had caught up and were now stood behind you, he signalled them to stay behind.

"No.. only the weak embrace the dark... I will never!" You scream before thrusting your hands forward, pushing with all your might as you forced pushed away all three inquisitors. You quickly saw your escape and ran for it, picking up the mans lightsaber blade and making your way far away from there.

The two inquisitors that had come after Cal were ready to rush after you but with a quick shake of his head they stopped. "Let her run. She won't make it very far. I can sense the anger, the hatred rushing through her. It will only be a matter of time before we find her again."

"I will soon see you again Y/N."

*****

The voice of the ginger inquisitor rang through your head, his taunting tone, his laughter as he watched you struggle. You had made it to another one of your safety ships, the Jedi you were with had an idea to have these ships scattered across Kashyyyk. You slumped down in the cockpit, your heart racing as you held his lightsaber in your hands.

All of a sudden you were pulled back, a searing white blur flashed across your eyes as you blinked rapidly to clear it. It was only then you had realised where you were.

The Jedi Temple.

Or what it was before the war. Before the empire rose to success.

You glanced around watching the padawan rush around the temple, thier masters following swiftly behind, ready for training.

"Y/N."

You turned around on the spot at the voice of your own Master. You remembered this day Master Plo was ready to take you on your first mission. The younger version of yourself stood there ready for it as your master lead you to your Commander.

Wolffe.

You held in a sob at the sight of him. You had no idea where he was. If he was alive or dead. All of a sudden you were pulled out of your own memory and into another as you watched from the top.

A young boy, not much older than you were when you went on your first mission. He was training with his Master in the Jedi rooms. You looked over to his Master and instantly recognised him.

Jaro Topal.

How could you not? The guy was a legend, a Lasat. One of first Lasats you had ever seen before. You looked over to the young boy and studied him carefully. You didn't recognise him at first until the lights came on and you saw his face.

The inquisitor. The very same one who taunted you. Who tried to kill you.

What was he doing training with Master Topal? Unless...

No. It couldn't be.

"Cal. Concentrate, use the force."

He was a Jedi. A Jedi that betrayed the order, that succumbed to the dark side. He failed.

You dropped the weapon before falling to ground, eyes teary and wet, full of regret for your fallen friends and Master. Wolffe. The former Jedi, Cal.

*****

You had found an imperial building that was holding Wookies hostage and you had to help them. The wookies were friends of yours and you couldn't allow them to suffer under the hands of the empire. Your mission finished off with a bang, you and the wookies had blown up the building, crushing it into pieces so that whatever the Empire was working on was destroyed.

Just as you were leaving the building, you felt a strong presence, a dark presence. Being the curious person you were, you signalled the wookies to go ahead while you checked something out. You crept around the side of the fallen building only to find a hidden compartment where you saw 3 inquisitors.

You had recognised all 3 of them, they were the ones that had ambushed you in your ship, one of them was the former jedi, the traitor Cal. You leapt up and hid behind one of the broken columns, listening to thier conversation.

"We have been instructed to find the holocron. What are you doing here?" One of the inquisitors hissed at the fallen jedi.

Holocron? Why are they looking for a holocron? You couldn't let the holocron get into the hands of Empire. God knows what they could do with it, the force sensitive children would be used for their means and you could never let that happen.

"I have business to attend to. I'll be on my way." The ginger inquisitor replied as he played with a droid on the side of a table.

The two inquisitors hissed before they left. You waited until they left before getting ready to make your own way out and back to base.

"You have something of mine Y/N."

You stopped dead in your position, your heart beating rapidly. You instantly moved your hand to your lightsaber clipped on your belt as you slowly got up.

"I would like it back."

All of a sudden he was behind you, his hand on your own that was holding the lightsaber. His grip was surprisingly soft, it wasn't harsh or rough which surprised you.

"Please."

You twisted our of his grip before replying. "What? The Empire can't afford to get you another one, inquisitor?"

"Cal." Your eyebrows furrow in confusion.

"My name, it's Cal. But you already knew that."  He says as he points to his lightsaber clipped at the back of your belt.

"How could you betray the Jedi Order?"

"I was left with other choice but to join. I have seen the future and there is no Jedi Order."

"Y/N, join me while you can."

Cal held his hand out. You glanced it at it quickly, looking at his face for any sign that this was a joke, but alas you found none. You rolled your eyes before stepping back and pulling your lightsaber out.

"Never."

"So be it." Cal slowly pulled his hand away before using the force to pull you towards him. You landed in his arms as you lightsaber dropped and your hands holding onto his arm for support before you quickly pulled away. Cal on the other hand had managed to unclip his lightsaber from your belt. He quickly used the force and pushed you to the ground, holding his lightsaber at your throat, the tip of it barely inches away from slaughtering you to death.

Cal was silent for a while. His eyes flickered around before focusing on your face once more. “I’ll give you one more chance Y/N. I have seen the future, there are no more Jedi. Join us. Join me.”

“You don’t take no for an answer, do you?” You spoke, getting annoyed with Cal's back and forth persona with you. Before you could attack him, you felt something coming. A sense of danger approaching, you stole a glance at Cal before you locked eyes, ready to run from whatever was coming.

His own eyes widened in shock as he channelled through force to identify what about to happen. Hands reached out to push you towards what ever it was, only it never came.

"Y/N!"

Within seconds, Cal had rushed forwards and pushed you aside, his own body collapsing on top of you, ultimately protecting you from the huge crash. The two of you groaned as you fell to the ground, the weight of Cal weighing down on you as you tried to sidle out from under him. His eyes were closed but his arms were wrapped around you tightly, his body seemingly taking the brunt of the drop.

“Where is she? The Wookies told us she would be here!”

“Shit...” You groaned, you were stuck, the both of you were stuck. The sounds of the troopers approaching was near, they were probably going to find you and the inquisitor and assume you had killed him. But why had he saved you? What was his plan?

Thoughts ran through your head, going millions miles an hour but one remained, you had failed your master.

"I'm sorry Master Plo."

The last thing you felt was the weight of a body being lifted off you before you succumbed to the darkness clouding your vision and mind.

***

“I know! I can feel her. If I can just...”