#wolf!wolffe x you

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Dancing Lights

Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Summary: During a mission on a frigid planet, you get lost in a blizzard and Wolffe becomes desperate to find you before you freeze to death. Once he does, he’s forced to reveal a secret part of himself in order to protect you from a territorial pack of wolves.

Pairing: Wolf!Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wolffe, Plo Koon

Tags & Warnings: 18+, implied/referenced nudity with no descriptions, established relationship, hurt/comfort, light angst, suggestive themes, implied sexual content, violence, blood, injuries, reader doesn’t know she’s pregnant, protective!wolffe, snowed in, abandoned cabin, cuddling for warmth, Brother Bear/Balto type spiritual references, happy ending

Word Count: 12.7k

Author's Note: The terms "alpha" and "mate" are used in one part of the fic for a very specific purpose as a language marker (there are NO sexual, kink, or ABO implications). There’s also a distinctive speech pattern shift between Wolffe talking to the wolves and Wolffe talking to himself and the reader. This is intentional. The perspective shifts between the reader and Wolffe a lot, but the change is always separated by a paragraph break. As always, please enjoy 💚

@clonexreaderbingo Square: Smile

Wolffe frantically searches for you. One minute you’re walking behind him and the next minute you’re gone. He trudges through the piling snow, calling out your name, barely a whisper over the raging winds and whipping snow, but receives no response for his efforts. The battalion lost long-range communications soon after the blizzard started and you’re not answering on comms, so his only hope is to find you before the drifting snow claims you. He can’t lose you, not now.

Wolffe only dares to backtrack so far to look for you, or he might lose the battalion as its dark gray silhouettes slowly fade into the white tundra. Wolffe stares out into the nothingness and calls your name as loud as his voice will let him. Then he waits, hoping for a shred of your voice to make it back to him, but he hears nothing. Gritting his teeth, he turns on his heels and uses the backs of his men as wayfinders to trudge his way up to the front of the procession.

“General,” Wolffe shouts over the storm.

“Yes, commander?” Plo Koon asks as his snow covered parka blows wildly in the wind.

“We’ve lost one of the… men,” Wolffe says, pausing to consider whether he should name you as the lost soldier. He knows how Jedi feel about attachments, and he’s not in the mood for a lecture. “They appear to be lost in the storm.”

“Have you attempted to make contact?” Plo Koon asks.

“Yes, sir,” Wolffe answers. “Multiple times, sir, with no success.”

Plo Koon raises his hand to his face in thought. “That is a predicament.”

“Sir,” Wolffe begins in a serious tone, “with your permission, I want to go after them.”

“That would be ill-advised, commander,” Plo Koon answers. “The storm is getting worse and we must advance to the rendezvous point before we become buried in it ourselves.”

“But sir,” Wolffe argues. “We can’t afford to lose anymore men. Our numbers are dwindling as it is. We need to find them.”

Plo Koon crosses his arms and waits a moment to respond, reading Wolffe through the force like an open book. “Attachments are dangerous, commander. As lethal as this storm.”

Wolffe grimaces and shifts on his feet like a child getting caught in a lie. “I don’t believe in leaving men behind, sir.”

Plo Koon’s facial features soften and he places a gloved hand on Wolffe’s shoulder. “Neither do I, but you are needed here. Perhaps we can send a scout.”

The general is both right and wrong. Having their commander walk away in the middle of a stressful situation will reduce the battalion’s morale significantly. They have been marching to their next rendezvous point for days, and the blizzard is only making it more difficult. However, there is no way in the stars above that a mere scout will be able to find you in this storm. The scout is more likely to get himself lost. But Wolffe? He can find you, without a shred of doubt.

“With all due respect, sir,” Wolffe argues, clenching his fists together to hold his composure. “I am the most suited for this mission. You know this. I refuse to risk any more of my men dying in this storm and being buried unceremoniously under a pile of snow.”

Plo Koon considers Wolffe’s words and the conviction behind them, then sighs. “Very well.”

“Thank you, sir,” Wolffe says, finally releasing the breath he was holding in.

“However,” Plo Koon continues. “We cannot halt the convoy or render aid if you fail your mission. You will be on your own.”

“I understand,” Wolffe nods before turning to walk away.

“And Wolffe,” Plo Koon adds quickly. “Come back safely. Both of you.”

Wolffe doesn’t answer, but the sentiment shared between the two is unmistakable. He will bring you both back safely, or it’s the last thing he’ll do. Wolffe climbs up into the ATTE he’s been living in for the duration of this campaign and grabs his pack. He grabs everything he might need, including canteens, rations, medical supplies, an emergency blanket, and a spare set of blacks, as well as tossing out anything that he knows he won’t need. Traveling light is a must.

Before making his departure, Wolffe seeks out Sinker and temporarily puts him in charge of the battalion for the duration of his absence. Leaving the battalion in Sinker’s hands is an easy decision for Wolffe to make. The sergeant has been by his side since the beginning of the war, and has shown considerable aptitude and courage under distress. Wolffe knows that he is up for the challenge and has faith in him to lead the men to the rendezvous point mostly unscathed.

With everything in order, Wolffe hops down from the ATTE, his boots sinking deeply into the fresh fallen snow beneath. The wind is ripping and visibility is minimal, but Wolffe steels himself and sets out in the opposite direction of the battalion. After a few yards, he looks back. The gray silhouettes of the men and machines are gone. There’s no turning back now. He faces forward, picking his feet up and over the snow in a painstakingly slow process, but at least he’s moving.

As he trudges through the blizzard, snow begins sticking to his armor and weighing him down. He stops every so often to brush himself off, but it quickly becomes a useless effort. He grumbles to himself that of all the planets you had to get lost on, why did it have to be this one? He’s not angry, but he is scared; scared for you and for the little package you carry inside you unawares. Regardless of how he feels about the situation, he is determined to find you.

After a little while longer, he stops and stands still. The snow swirls around him, covering his visor and the gray markings on his armor. He closes his eyes and breathes deeply, calling on the senses lying dormant within him to come to the surface and aid him in his search. No human or comm system can find you in this storm, but maybe he can. Maybe the wolf inside him can. A spirit of a bygone era that speaks to his soul at night and shows him images of dancing lights.

Wolffe removes his helmet, a dangerous move in this type of weather. The temperature alone could kill him with frostbite, but he needs to feel the air around him. The cold nips at the tips of his ears and wind blows through his short hair without caution, leaving little bits of frost at the tips. With his eyes still closed, he breathes deeper, calming every nerve in his body until he can find your presence. If we can’t locate you like this, then he’ll be forced to make a drastic move.

Suddenly, it clicks like a strike of lightning. Whether it’s a feeling, a sense, or an intuition, he knows where he needs to go. He shakes the snow off his head and replaces his helmet, bristling as the cold snow melts down the back of his neck. But, he doesn’t have time to worry about his comfort at the moment. Every second he wastes thinking about himself is another second lost trying to find you. He turns and starts walking, letting his internal compass guide him to you.

As he continues forward, the storm lets up a little. He wonders if the change will be permanent or if it’s just a momentary lull. Again, he doesn’t have time to think about the logistics when you could already be dead and frozen, buried under a pile of snow. He shakes his head at the intrusive thoughts, then notices a ridgeline of trees in the distance. His stomach flips and his breath quickens. He knows you’re in there. You’re smart. Of course, you’d try to find shelter.

Wolffe moves as fast as he can through the piled snow towards the forest of trees. He senses that you are nearby. He stops at the edge of the wooded area and scans to the left and to the right, searching, listening, hoping, and praying that he’s not too late and that he can find you still alive. As he’s standing there, a shiver runs up his spine and he knows he needs to find you soon. If he can find you in this weather, so can they, and he’s not in the mood to deal with that.

He enters the tree line cautiously, then hears a sound in the distance that stills his heart. He doesn’t have much time to find you. Breaking out into his best sprint through the deep snow, he pulls on the trees and branches for leverage, making his movements faster as he frantically searches for you. You're close. He can feel it. He can smell it. His heart is beating out of his chest at the sound. They’re coming, a lot of them, and he doesn’t want to be here when they arrive.

Wolffe releases a heavy sigh of relief when he finally sees you, or rather, he sees your emergency shelter tied to a couple trees. You have the beacon on, but its light is barely visible against the white and gray landscape. The shelter is partially buried by the snow and Wolffe falls to his knees to dig you out. The wet snow seeps through his gloves, and the cold bites at his fingertips, but he doesn’t care. He continues digging until he finds the opening of the shelter.

Once he finds the entrance, he digs a bit deeper to make a little path for him to snake his body down and get into the shelter to get you out. When the path is wide enough for his body, he gets on his stomach and shimmies his way to where the zipper is. He pulls it open just enough to peek inside and no more. That’s when he sees you, curled up into a protective ball, covered in an emergency blanket, with a small heat lamp in the middle of the shelter to keep you warm.

“Cyare,” Wolffe calls gently as he opens the entrance wider and wiggles the upper half of his body into the tent. There’s barely enough room for him to crawl on his hands and knees.

You stir and make a small grunting noise.

Wolffe releases another sigh of relief, then rests his forehead against the cold canvas floor of the shelter. He thanks the stars you're still alive. Sadly, his brief moment of relief is quickly interrupted when he hears the sound in the distance again. They’re getting closer and he’s running out of time. He picks his head up and curses under his breath. He needs to get the both of you out of here now, or there will be trouble, and not the type he can easily deal with.

Wolffe stretches out his hand and tugs on your foot, trying to wake you from your sleep. “Cyare,” he calls a little louder.

You startle awake. The light from the tent-opening blinds you for a moment and the cold air nips at your exposed face. When your eyes finally adjust, you see Wolffe’s familiar bucket staring at you. “Wolffe?”

“It’s me,” he says.

“You found me!” you exclaim with excitement.

Wolffe wiggles the rest of his body into the small tent and pulls you into his arms the best he can, gently pressing you against his armored chest. He removes his bucket and rests his forehead against yours. “I found you.”

The sweet reunion is cut short when Wolffe hears the sound again, but this time, it’s not so distant. He jumps into action, releasing you and putting his bucket back on. “Pack up,” he orders. “We have to go. Now.”

You're shocked by the sudden urgency, but you follow Wolffe’s lead and begin rolling up the blanket. “What’s the hurry? The storm–”

“They’re coming,” Wolffe interrupts while stuffing all of the loose items into your pack.

“Who’s coming?” you ask in confusion. One minute you’re sleeping peacefully in your shelter as you wait out the storm and the next minute Wolffe is rushing you back out into the storm.

“We don’t have time for me to explain!” Wolffe snaps. He feels more afraid than he was before he found you.

You’re slightly offended by his harsh tone, but if you know anything about Wolffe, it’s that he doesn’t mess around, especially when it has to do with someone’s safety. You decide not to push the issue and hasten your pace to get things wrapped up. The good thing about emergency shelters is that they’re quick to assemble and even quicker to tear down. You both finish with the pack and you follow Wolffe outside of the shelter and break that down too.

Before you get in another word edgewise, Wolffe grabs your arm and pulls you along through the snow. His grip is tight and you struggle to keep up, feeling like your arm will rip out of its socket. “Wolffe, stop!” you shout while pulling on his arm with your free hand. “Let go!”

Wolffe ignores your struggle, believing that you’ll forgive him later for his roughness when you’re both safe. He doesn’t have the time to coddle you or explain why you need to run away as fast as you can. Your yelling doesn’t help his cause, but then again, they don’t need to hear you in order to find you. It’s already too late, Wolffe knows this, but he refuses to give up without at least trying to get you to safety. Even if he has to deal with it on his own, he needs you safe.

You continue to struggle against Wolffe’s grasp and fight him with each step as you demand an explanation from him. He doesn’t give you one. He doesn’t even turn around to look at you. He just keeps walking, not letting up on his brisk pace that has you panting in cold air that burns your lungs. Finally, in a last ditch effort, and to give your lungs and legs a break, you let your legs go slack and plop yourself down into the snow, jerking on Wolffe’s arm on the way down.

Wolffe stops and grunts in frustration. “We don’t have time for this!”

“Wolffe!” you yell through a panting breath while trying to get him to listen to you. “I can’t keep up. My legs. My lungs. It hurts.”

Wolffe lets go of your arm and paces in a circle as he thinks. “I need you to get up.”

“I told you, I can’t!” you argue. 

Wolffe kneels down on the snow in front of you and removes his bucket. He grabs both of your cheeks and forces you to look into his eyes. “I need you to get up. Now.”

His gloves feel cold on your skin and for a moment you see something flash across his eyes, something desperate that you’ve never seen in him before. But before you get to respond, you hear it. The sound of howling in the distance. You watch as Wolffe tilts his head to the side to peek around you and in an instant, you finally understand. How he heard them before you did, you may never know, but that sound is what Wolffe has been afraid of, the sound of wolves.

You find new strength in your fear and get to your feet, ready to start running again, but Wolffe doesn’t move with you. You turn to see him still kneeling in the snow, staring out through the trees at nothing. Your confusion turns into worry which then turns into a deeper fear. You step behind him and place your hand on his shoulder for reassurance. He places his hand atop yours and stands to his feet. He knows something you don’t, but you're too afraid to ask him what it is.

“It’s too late,” he says in a hushed tone.

“Too late?” you ask as your voice quivers. “Too late for what?”

Wolffe turns around and pulls you tight against him, wrapping his arms around you and burying his face in the crook of your neck. His cold plastoid armor digs into your clothing. He can hear the fear in your voice and it breaks his heart. This is exactly what he was afraid of, what he didn’t want to happen. The scenario he’s played over and over in his mind since he started out on this mission, the one he so desperately wanted to avoid at all costs, is now inescapable.

Wolffe drags his lips up to your ear and whispers. “Do you trust me?”

You shiver as his hot breath ghosts against the cold shell of your ear. “Always,” you answer.

Wolffe pulls away and plants two firm hands on both of your shoulders. “I need you to listen to me and do everything I say. Understand?”

You look into his eyes and nod your head. “I understand.”

“Don’t move,” Wolffe orders. He shakes your shoulders, like he’s trying to ingrain it in your body. “Don’t move a single inch, no matter what happens.”

You're confused by the instructions, but you trust that Wolffe knows what he’s doing, so you go along with it. “I won’t move. I promise.”

Wolffe nods his head and gives you a small half-smile. “Good girl.”

You watch him carefully, studying his body language, the way he worries his lip and shifts his weight from leg to leg. You can’t help but notice the growing anxiety, so you bring your hand up to cup the side of his face to reassure him. You smooth your hand over his reddened cheek, your fabric glove catching on the rough bristles of the stubble growing in. Wolffe places his hand over yours and leans into the caress, then pulls it away from his face to kiss your palm.

“You know I love you, right?” Wolffe whispers against your hand.

You smile. “I know.”

Wolffe relishes in the simple and soft moment he’s allowed to have with you. He’s not sure what will happen, but he knows that at least in this moment, he has you. He found you, which is what he set out to do. Mission accomplished. But, the promise he made to the general before he left the battalion reverberates in his mind. He swore he would bring you both back safely, and that’s what he still intends to do, no matter the cost.

An eerie silence washes over the area. Every sound of nature is muted by the snow and what’s left in its wake is a hollow peace. However, that silence is pierced by howls and soft steps in the snow. Wolffe closes his eyes and takes a deep breath, then turns to face the oncoming enemy. He keeps one hand on you for reassurance, and the other in front of him for his own defense, not that it will do him any good. His blasters won’t help him here either, not against a full pack.

The wolves come into view and surround you and Wolffe in a circle. Their fur coats are light gray and white, perfect camouflage for this place they call home. If it weren’t for their golden eyes and black noses, you wouldn’t even be able to see them. Your breath hitches in your throat at their menacing presence. The wolves are large. Larger than you ever imagined from the books you’ve read, with the tips of their ears easily coming up to your hips. You swallow back your fear.

The pack circles around you and Wolffe, then comes to a stop. Wolffe holds his ground as he waits for their next move, but he doesn’t have to wait long. A large, older looking pure white wolf steps out from the circle. The alpha of the pack, Wolffe assumes. He knows what he needs to do, but even in the face of all of these wolves, he’s reluctant. Without an explanation, he’s not sure how you will react to what he’s about to do, but at this point he doesn’t have a choice.

To your surprise, Wolffe starts shucking off his armor, tossing it about haphazardly until he’s only left in his black bodysuit. You watch him with bewilderment, trying to understand why he’d take his armor off during a situation like this. He’ll freeze to death with so little coverage and be vulnerable to attack. You remember his words about not moving, but you want to reach out and touch him. He must be able to read your thoughts because he turns his head to look at you.

“Remember what I said?” Wolffe asks.

“No moving,” you answer. “But Wolffe–”

Wolffe puts a finger to your lips. “Trust me.”

You nod your head and kiss his finger, earning you a sly grin.

Wolffe turns to face the white wolf and you can’t believe what you’re seeing. Bright yellow lights emanate from Wolffe’s fingertips, his toes, his eyes, and his mouth. Wind blows by your head and swirls around him, obscuring everything but his silhouette. You watch as his body morphs into a smaller form and your breath is stolen in awe. He doesn’t make a sound, even as his body contorts into unfamiliar angles. The wind and light disappear and what’s left behind is a wolf.

“Wolffe?” you ask hesitantly, body shaking from what you just witnessed.

Wolffe cranes his neck around and looks back at you with a single, piercing, golden eye, the other eye is still cybernetic and the scar over it has morphed to fit his new facial figure.

“You’re a… wolf,” you stutter in shock.

You’re stunned. When Wolffe asked you to trust him, you weren’t expecting this. You stare at his new form, a man’s body traded in for dark gray fur across his face and ears that travels down his back, a lighter cream color across his belly and legs, and a black stripe down the middle of his back that stretches to the tip of his fluffy tail. He’s a wolf, there’s no mistake about it. You can’t help but admire his beauty, and also feel a level of terror at the teeth hidden in his mouth.

Quite the show, the Alpha says.

Wolffe turns his head back to look at the Alpha. Not great. Rusty.

The Alpha considers Wolffe for a moment, unsure of what to make of him. Your wolf-speak is less than to be desired.

Wolffe snorts. Been a time.

The Alpha is not impressed with Wolffe and circles around you both, sizing up the situation.

As the Alpha moves around you, you notice that it’s much larger than Wolffe, but it also seems much older. You’re not sure why, but that’s the impression you get. You can see multiple scars across his body, each one a proud win against another wolf, you suppose, just as the clones have scars from their battles. To you, everything is quiet. You can’t hear them communicating, but you watch their body language and hear their growls, which still doesn’t mean much to you.

Wolffe plants his paws firmly into the snow, ears pinned, and snarls. Back!

Easy, pup, the Alpha says as he makes a full circle back to where he started. I’m only observing.

Not pup, Wolffe growls.

No? the Alpha questions. Then what are you?

Alpha, Wolffe answers. Own pack.

The Alpha looks at Wolffe with intrigue. Oh? I would have never guessed. You’re rather small for an alpha.

Wolffe barks at the insult, baring his fangs in an intimidating display.

It works, well, at least on you it does. You flinch at the sudden loud noise.

The Alpha disregards it and looks past Wolffe to you. What is that? A hunting trophy?

Wolffe’s fur bristles at the insinuation and rumbles out a low protective growl. Mate.

Odd choice… the Alpha says as he continues to stare at you with mild interest. He decides to ignore you for the time being. Tell me, alpha, what are the laws that govern?

Wolffe cringes at the question. He knows the answer, it’s written somewhere in the DNA that entangles with his own, but his wolf-speak is poor and he can’t put the words together.

Has your tongue gone still? the Alpha goads. Trespassing in another pack’s territory is an offense punishable by death.

Wolffe retakes his defensive stance and bares his fangs.

The Alpha pauses for a moment before responding. However, I am feeling generous today, young alpha.

Wolffe’s ears twitch.

You have two choices, the Alpha offers. Join our pack at a lower rank and we’ll let your mate go free or give us your mate as tribute and you may go free. The choice is yours.

Wolffe snorts at the two bleak choices and decides to make his own third option. He raises his head and howls loudly towards the sky.

The sound is deafening and you cover your ears to try and muffle it. You’re not sure what they’re doing now, but the tension and uncertainty is making your skin crawl. The golden eyes that stare at you from around the forest make you feel small and afraid. You wish to be able to speak to Wolffe, to get any shred of reassurance that everything will be okay, but he hasn’t said a word to you. Your best guess is that he can’t talk to you, which is the only thing that makes sense right now.

Wolffe finishes his howl and waits for the response.

You want to fight? the Alpha asks. A bold move for one so young and stupid.

Not dumb, Wolffe replies. Protect mine.

The Alpha snorts, then stares into Wolffe’s eyes as he searches his soul. You have the spirit of ages within you, young alpha. My old eyes can still see. The Alpha pauses. I will respect your wishes. If you win, you and your mate will earn safe passage through our land, but if I win, you will join our pack and your mate will perish.

Wolffe takes a deep breath. He has too much to lose not to stay focused. Seal it. Sing the song.

The Alpha lifts his muzzle towards the sky and howls. Wolffe then joins in the howling, letting their wolf-songs mingle and intertwine in the sky like a binding contract.

Promise, Wolffe says. Mate not hurt.

You have my word, the Alpha says. Your mate will not be touched during our fight.

Wolffe nods and takes a fighting stance. The Alpha does the same.

You watch the two wolves with great anticipation as your legs tremble beneath you. You’re still unsure about what’s going on, but whatever it is, you trust Wolffe. At least, that’s what you keep telling yourself. That’s what he told you to do and that’s what you have to hold on to. You must have faith and believe that Wolffe will work things out and you can both go home soon. But waiting in silence, without knowing, is slowly killing your nerves. You want to run and escape.

Your thoughts are abruptly interrupted when Wolffe and the Alpha lunge towards each other, fangs bared. A gasp escapes your throat and you have to tell your trembling legs not to move, just like Wolffe told you. The two wolves collide, both going for each other’s necks. You watch in horror as tufts of gray and white fur are flung about into the air. The sounds of growling and snarling fill your ears as they tumble in the snow, one on top of the other and then vice versa.

The Alpha pins Wolffe to the ground and clamps his jaw around Wolffe’s shoulder, causing him to cry out in pain.

“Wolffe!” you yell and take an automatic step towards him, forgetting Wolffe’s order not to move.

A wolf on the sidelines catches your movement and lunges towards you. You scream and fall back onto the ground. Your cry alerts Wolffe and he snaps his head up. With strength unknown to him he kicks the Alpha off of him and leaves his fight to get to your side. He snarls at the wolf and nips at his legs, causing it to retreat back to the circle. Wolffe whips around and looks into your frightened eyes. He brings his nose to your face and gives your cheek a small, gentle lick.

As sweet as the gesture may seem to Wolffe, you wish you could feel anything other than fear.  There’s blood on Wolffe’s muzzle and blood on his fur, reminding you of what he is doing.

Wolffe turns his attention back to the Alpha and barks. Liar!

The immature actions of a young pup, the Alpha says. I assure you, he will be punished severely. The Alpha glares toward the younger wolf in his ranks and bares his fangs with a low growl. The younger wolf cowers back with his ears flattened and his tail between his legs. Shall we continue?

Wolffe agrees and the fight recommences as they both tumble through the snow once again. Nipping and biting at each other’s necks, legs, bellies, and backs. Wolffe gets in a few bites, but the Alpha is much bigger and stronger, yielding better results with his bites, which leaves Wolffe’s beautiful gray fur coat marred with blood. He pauses to catch his breath and looks back at you, his strength and reason to fight. Mustering what he can, Wolffe forces himself to continue.

The yelp Wolffe makes when the Alpha sinks his fangs into his neck is unbearable. All you can do is watch and pray to the Maker that Wolffe survives this. You don’t know what started the fight, you don’t know the rules, and you don’t know what will happen to you if Wolffe dies. You shake your head at the macabre thought and focus on Wolffe surviving. You wish you could help him. You wish you could do more than watch as he lies helpless and whimpering in the snow.

Wolffe is out of breath and running out of strength. For a wolf so young, his stamina isn’t at peak performance, but for someone who rarely uses his wolf form, it’s better than he thought it would be. He lays in the snow, chest heaving as he tries to breathe. The bites sting him like fire and slow him down. He’s not sure how much longer he’ll be able to last. He knew he didn’t stand a chance against a seasoned alpha. He may be the leader of the ‘Wolfpack’, but he’s no alpha.

You want to cry. You don’t know how long the fight has been going on, but you’re getting sick of it. You know you’re not supposed to move, but you can still speak. They can’t stop you from cheering him on. Whether he understands your words or not is a gamble you’re willing to take, because you can’t lose him like this. “Wolffe!” you yell. “Wolffe, get up!”

Through his pained haze, Wolffe can hear your voice calling out to him. The sweet sound of his mesh’la, warped by the fear caught in the back of your throat. He knows you’re trying to be strong for him and he finds it endearing. The need to protect you and to protect his unborn child, overrides his pain. He shifts his legs in the snow, trying to get back up, using your voice as a crutch to stand. He rocks himself onto his stomach and hoists himself up onto his shaky legs.

Will protect, Wolffe chokes out between pants as blood drips from his muzzle. Won’t lose. My mate. My pup.

The Alpha watches Wolffe carefully. His own white coat has been stained by blood. Some of it is his but most of it is from Wolffe. He finds the young alpha compelling. His protectiveness over his mate is rivaled by that of many an alpha and he admires him for his strong will. The Alpha can sense it strongly now, the spirit that resides in Wolffe. An ancient spirit from many generations before him. The one that chases the moon at night and howls with his brethren in chorus song.

The Alpha approaches Wolffe and bows. I concede to you, young alpha.

Wolffe heaves in a labored breath, his shaking legs about to buckle underneath him. He’s not sure if this is a trick, but according to the laws that govern, this means he wins.

The Alpha steps closer and Wolffe takes a cautious step back.

Your spirit, the Alpha begins to explain, it’s strong and powerful; ancient as the dancing lights that adorn the heavens. Don’t lose it.

Wolffe stares into the golden eyes of the Alpha and sees his truth. He bows to the Alpha, turns, and limps his way over to you.

You and your mate will have safe passage through our land, the Alpha exclaims to Wolffe and his own pack.

Wolffe turns back to look at the Alpha. Thank you.

And with that, the pack of wolves disappear into the trees as silently as they came. You stare with wide-eyes, then drop to the ground, your legs refusing to bear the load of your body any longer. You don’t know if you should cry, scream, or laugh. Regardless, you and Wolffe are safe, at least you hope you're safe. You startle for a moment when you feel Wolffe’s nose touch you. You look into his tired eyes, trying to read them as best as you can, but you understand nothing.

“Can you turn back?” you ask. “To a human?”

Too weak, he answers, but his voice won’t reach your ears.

You sigh when you get no response. With no way to communicate with Wolffe, you’re not sure what to do. You don’t know where you are and with no comms to contact the battalion, you’re on your own. You stretch out your hand to pet Wolffe’s head, but you recoil it when you get too close, scared he might not be who you think he is. Wolffe sees your hesitation and lifts his head into the palm of your hand, nuzzling it for comfort. You smile and scratch behind his ears.

Overcome with the emotion you are holding in, you throw your arms around Wolffe’s neck and bury your face in his soft fur. “You saved us. Thank you.”

Wolffe wants to melt into your embrace, but a snowflake landing on his nose reminds him of the other situation. Wolffe pulls out of your arms and starts pushing at his armor with his nose, piling it together. You tilt your head at his actions, but when you see the snow start to fall again, you get the idea. You stack Wolffe’s armor neatly and wrap a cord around it so you can tie it to your pack. Wolffe grabs his bag between his teeth and you grab yours, slinging it onto your back.

Wolffe starts limping forward and you walk closely behind him, following his lead through the forest. If anyone can get you home, it’s Wolffe. You soon reach the end of the forest and stare out into the wide advance of nothingness. The snow falls harder and the wind begins to howl. You shiver as the cold air breaches your layers of clothing. Wolffe turns around and stands behind you. He noses at his bucket tied to your pack and you wonder what he wants.

You put your pack down and carefully remove his bucket from the neatly tied package of armor, then hand it to Wolffe, unsure of what he could possibly want with it in that form. It’s not as if it will fit on his head.

If Wolffe could roll his eyes, he would, but instead he pushes his nose against the bucket so it goes back towards you.

You sigh and shake your head, still unsure of what he wants you to do with it.

Put it on! Wolffe growls as he drops his pack from his mouth.

His sudden outburst startles you. “I don’t know what you want me to do!” you snap at him.

Wolffe tries to calm himself. The language barrier is grating on him, so he takes the bucket in his mouth and places his front paws on your knees to gain some height, then haphazardly drops the bucket on top of your head. It sits crooked and looks funny from Wolffe’s vantage point, but it should get the point across.

“Oh,” you realize. “You want me to wear it.”

Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand as an affirmation.

You situate his bucket on your head, but it’s too big on you and bobbles around. You think you look ridiculous, but if this is what Wolffe wants then this is what you’re going to do. It’s probably to keep your face from freezing off in the cold, but it could have other uses as well and you just don’t know it.

“How do you see out of this thing?” you ask as you try to walk forward, but the HUD throws you off balance.

Wolffe can’t smile or laugh, but he snorts through his nostrils at your comment. He sees just fine out of it, but then again, it is made for him.

You watch Wolffe’s reaction to your comment and wonder. “Can you understand me?” you ask.

Wolffe nuzzles his nose against your hand again to answer your question.

“We can work with that,” you think out loud. “We need some way to communicate... How about for yes or no questions, touch your nose to my hand for yes and growl for no?”

Wolffe touches his nose to your hand in agreement.

“Well, that was easy,” you breathe.

Actually, none of this is easy. You're several klicks away from your battalion, out in the middle of a snowstorm with a small amount of supplies, and an injured Wolffe who seems to be stuck in a wolf’s body. At least, that’s what you gather from the fact that he is still a wolf and not a human. You don’t have any way to confirm that theory, but you can’t imagine that he would choose to stay a wolf if he had a choice. The words you speak in your mind surprise yourself and you sigh.

Wolffe can smell the storm coming and he nudges your back to push you forward, causing you to stumble.

“Hey!” you turn around and exclaim. “Just because you’re a wolf doesn’t mean you can’t have manners!”

Wolffe snorts, picks his pack back up, and limps past you.

You huff, then hoist your pack onto your back and follow after him.

You’re not sure how long you’ve been walking, but your legs are tired and your body is freezing. The blizzard began to rage not long after you left the forest, and you're both out in the thick of it without much protection. The wind whips around you and threatens to knock you over as it bites your skin through your clothing. Wolffe was smart with making you wear the helmet. There’s no way you would’ve been able to see without it and your ears would have fallen off already.

You have one hand holding the strap of your bag and the other holding onto Wolffe’s tail as he guides you forward through the storm. You don’t know where he’s leading you, but you trust him that it’s towards shelter. Well, that’s what you're hoping for anyway. He, at least, has fur and is made for this type of weather, but, you don’t have a fur coat to keep you warm and your two heavy legs sink further into the deep snow while his four lighter legs sit closer to the surface.

It doesn’t take much longer for you to start staggering, which doesn’t go unnoticed by Wolffe when his tail gets yanked. It hurts, but it’s better than losing you in the storm, so he bears it without complaint. It’s when you let go of his tail that he gets worried. He turns around and looks back to see you laying still in the snow. Panic washes over him and he limps back over to you. He knows that if you stay like this, you’ll get buried in the snow and he can’t let that happen.

Wolffe drops his pack and digs with his paws to get your head out of the snow. He pushes you with his nose to try and get you back up, but you don’t budge. He knows you’re still alive, he can hear your heartbeat, but you still won’t move. He digs around each side of your body as the snow continues to bury your limbs. He grabs onto your outer jacket with his teeth and pulls, but with the weight of the snow you're too heavy for him. He steps back to reassess the situation.

Wolffe paces beside you as he tries to think, then howls in frustration towards the gray sky. Get up, cyare, Wolffe pleads. Please, get up.

He noses at your face, but gets no reaction.

We’re so close, Wolffe says, trying to encourage you to keep moving, like you did for him during the fight, but his voice falls on deaf ears. You have to get up! That’s an order!

He still gets no response. Not even a stir from you.

Don’t make me do this, cyare, Wolffe growls.

He only has one option left and it makes him sick to his stomach. It’s the last thing he wants to do, and he hopes you will forgive him when this is all over, but he’ll do anything to keep you safe. To keep you both safe. He digs out your left arm that has been re-buried by the heavy falling snow and bites down hard.

You jerk at the searing pain in your arm.

The adrenaline in your body starts pumping and you're quickly awoken. You figure you must have fallen asleep since you’re laying in the snow. You look up through the HUD with half-lidded eyes and see Wolffe crouching in front of you, your arm in his mouth. He’s biting you. He’s eating you. You stare at your arm as blood begins to soak through your coat sleeve. You’re scared. Not of the storm, but of Wolffe. He has your arm in his mouth and you're afraid he’ll rip it off.

“Get off me!” you yell hoarsely, scrambling to get up out of the snow and away from him. “I’m not your dinner!”

Wolffe drops your arm before you hurt yourself. I’m sorry.

You stare at him and then your bloody arm in shock and disbelief. “You bit me!”

Regret washes over him at your reaction. I’m so sorry.

“Why?” you ask. You feel heartbroken and confused as to why Wolffe would bite you. Why he would intentionally hurt you. You don’t understand. All of those sweet promises he’s whispered in your ear during moments of passion slip away on the raging winds of the blizzard. He told you he’d never hurt you, but he did. He hurt you and you’re bleeding. “Why would you do that?”

Wolffe drops his tail between his legs and lays himself flat against the snow to seem less intimidating. He wishes he could explain, but he can’t. He never meant for you to misconstrued his intentions so far as to think he would attack you on purpose, or eat you. It’s the worst-case scenario, but he’d rather have you alive and hate him than have you dead and love him. You both need to keep moving, but he lets you settle down before making any more movements.

You lie in the snow as you let the adrenaline run its course. The snow starts to pile around you and in a moment of clarity, you understand why he bit you. If he didn’t wake you, then you would have been buried in the snow and froze to death. It doesn’t make the wound hurt any less, and you’ll never forget what it looked like to have your arm bleeding in his mouth, but you can push past your anger for the moment and move on. You can talk about it later when you’re both safe.

You make an attempt to push yourself up and out of the snow, but struggle. Wolffe gets up and places his muzzle under your other arm, trying to help lift you so you can stand. You get the picture and use him to pull yourself out of the snow. Once you’re up, you lean against Wolffe to help regain your balance before trekking on. Moving is a chore for both of you now. Between his wounds and limp and your frozen and tired body, it’s a miracle you’ve even gotten this far.

When you’re ready to get moving, you grab onto Wolffe’s tail. He picks up his pack, and once again guides you through the blizzard to shelter. It’s not much further before you see a dark shadow appear through the blinding snow. As you get closer, you see the outline of a cabin and breathe a sigh of relief. You knew Wolffe would find shelter, and you’re so thankful that he’s with you. If it weren’t for him, you’d still be back in the woods, waiting to be devoured by wolves.

You approach the cabin and Wolffe scratches at the wooden door, whining for you to open it. You pull the latch and Wolffe drops his pack and runs in before you to be sure it’s safe. The last thing you need is more danger or obnoxious critters. The cabin is dark and cold, but solid, and not too drafty. It will do just fine to wait out the rest of the blizzard. Wolffe circles back from his perimeter search and presses his nose into your hand to let you know it’s safe for you to enter.

With Wolffe’s nose-touch of approval, you pull the door shut against the merciless winds and latch it closed. You drop your pack down, pull out some glow sticks, and the small heat lamp you had in your tent. You crack the glow sticks and place them around the outer areas of the cabin to get some much needed light, then place the small heater in the middle of the room. It won’t throw enough heat for the entire cabin, but it will take the chill out of your bones for the time being.

Wolffe can see without the glow sticks, but he knows you can’t. As you settle in, he does a more thorough reconnaissance and assessment of your situation. There’s a fireplace, some chopped wood, an old table, some broken cabinets with no food in them, and a worn out rug in the middle of the floor. It’s not much, but it’s enough. More than enough, actually. Wolffe turns when he hears you strike a match to light the fireplace. The small fire casts a warm orange glow in the room.

Finally able to relax, you take Wolffe’s bucket off and place it on the table alongside his armor. You pull your coat and gloves off, and blow into your hands to warm them up. It will take a little for the fire to heat the entire cabin. You look over at Wolffe and see the blood dripping from his shoulder. You’re not sure how he’s still standing, but you need to get that wound taken care of before it becomes infected. You grab the medpack from your pack and walk over to the fire.

“Come here,” you call as you sit crisscross on the rug and pat the area next to you.

Wolffe, absolutely exhausted, slowly limps over and lies down on the carpet beside you. He places his muzzle on your left leg and you run a hand across his head. He closes his eyes. You gently move your hand down to touch the area where his shoulder is bleeding and he whines. You frown, then grab the bacta and start applying it. Wolffe kicks out his hind leg at the pain, but he stays still for you. Finally, you wrap the wound in bandages, then take care of the other bites.

Once you’re done with Wolffe’s wounds, you move onto your own. You pull the sleeve up on your left arm, and wince as the movement opens the scabs that are stuck to the fabric.

Wolffe picks his head up off your leg when he hears your pain. He looks for the source and sees the puncture marks of his teeth on your arm. His stomach drops. He gave you that wound. It’s his fault that you’re bleeding and he wishes he could fix it. If only he had the strength to change back, he could bandage your wound, instead of forcing you to do it yourself. In an effort to help, he leans forward and licks at your wound, but you recoil and reflexively whack his nose.

“Ow!” you exclaim. “That hurts!”

Wolffe whines and lowers his head to rest on the rug between his front legs. He didn’t mean to hurt you even more. He just wanted to help. I’m sorry, cyare.

You look at how sad he is and sigh. “I’m sorry,” you whisper. “I know you didn’t mean it.”

Wolffe remains still, but lifts his eyes to look up at you.

You meet his gaze and offer him a sad smile. You can never stay mad at Wolffe for long, even if he did bite you. Usually you like it when he bites you, but not when his teeth are as sharp as a vibro-blade. Besides, there’s no use in staying angry at him, not when he’s already saved your life three times in one day. You pat his head and give him a small scratch behind his ear, which seems to perk him up a little. “Good boy.”

Getting back to the task at hand, you apply the bacta to your wound and wrap it in a bandage. It’s not the best job you’ve ever done, but you did it with one hand, so you feel somewhat proud of yourself. Now that the wounds have been taken care of, you move onto food and water. You get up from the floor and rifle through Wolffe’s pack. You grab the canteens and rations from it, since you used your supply back in the forest, and sit back down next to Wolffe.

You reach out to hand one of the canteens to Wolffe, then stop when you remember he can’t drink out of it like a person. You sigh, stand back up, and walk over to the kitchen area past the old wooden table. There’s no food in the cabinets, but there has to be a bowl you can use, and it doesn’t take long for you to find one. You wipe it out with your shirt and bring it back to where you were sitting, then place it in front of Wolffe’s nose and pour the canteen of water into it.

Wolffe continues to lie on the floor, but picks his head up to lap at the water in the bowl. He didn’t realize how thirsty he was until the first droplets hit his tongue and he eagerly drinks the rest of the bowl, being careful not to spill any of the precious resource. When you try to refill the bowl with more water, Wolffe stops you. He doesn’t need it as much as you do, and if push comes to shove, it’s easier for him to go find water in his wolf form, than it is for you as a human.

Once you’ve had your fill of water, you open up the ration pack and toss one of the bars to Wolffe. He catches it mid-flight in his mouth and eats the entire bar in one bite. You’re a little surprised, but you’re not sure what you were expecting, considering the size of his mouth and what wolves actually eat for sustenance. You chuckle. “Well, those aren’t going to last long.”

When you try to give Wolffe another ration bar, he does the same thing he did with the canteen of water and declines it. He intentionally doesn’t catch it, and the second bar comically bounces off of his head and onto the ground. Wolffe gently picks the ration bar up in his mouth and drops it in your lap for you to eat. He can survive on the one ration bar for a while. It’s more important to him that you get your proper nutrients to help keep you and the little one healthy and safe.

You pick up the ration bar and cringe in disgust that it has some of his wolf-saliva on it. But, then again, it can’t be the worst bodily fluid of Wolffe’s you’ve ever put in your mouth, so you eat it without complaint and try not to think about it too much.

After you finish the ration bar, you and Wolffe sit in silence for a while and just listen to the crackling fire in front of you and the howling blizzard outside. It’s peaceful, in a sort of sense, and almost comforting. You look over at Wolffe and wonder if he’s fallen asleep. He has his front paws crossed with his head resting on top of them and his eyes are closed. You look back over at the fire and yawn, thinking it’s best for you to get some sleep as well. You’re exhausted.

You get up off the floor, walk over to the table, grab the blanket from your pack, and sit back down next to Wolffe. You look over at him and his eyes are open and staring at you. You shake your head at his alertness. Not much gets past him. You stretch your arms out over your head, then lay the blanket on your body. You rest your head on the hard floor, which quickly becomes uncomfortable, and you know you’ll wake up with a crick in your neck if you try to sleep like this.

You sit up and look at Wolffe, who is still watching you. “Can I…” you fidget with the edge of the blanket. “Can I lay on you?”

Wolffe picks his head up and beats his tail against the wooden floor.

You giggle at his response. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

Wolffe changes his position and lies out flat on his side with his legs outstretched towards the fire. He doesn’t care what position he sleeps in, because his fur works as a buffer against even the hardest of surfaces. He’ll gladly be your pillow and he’s happy to oblige you. You're still his cyare, even when he’s in his wolf form. The wolf form changes nothing about how he feels about you or his devotion and duty to protect you. He may be in a wolf’s body, but his heart is his own.

You situate yourself between Wolffe’s legs and lay your head on his side, being careful not to disturb any of the bandages. His body is warm and his fur is soft. You can feel him breathing steadily as his chest rises and falls, and the sound of his heartbeat is so similar to his human form that when you close your eyes, you can imagine it’s him you’re laying against. You nuzzle your cheek against Wolffe’s soft fur and let yourself drift off to sleep, safe by his side.

When you wake up, you feel a slight chill and notice the fire has died down. You need to get up to put more logs on it to stay warm, but you don’t want to move. You lazily rub your face against Wolffe, but it doesn’t feel right. There’s no fur. You pick your head up and look at Wolffe, but he’s no longer a wolf, he’s human. He’s also completely naked. Realizing that he’s going to freeze to death being exposed like that, you lay your blanket on top of him and get up to rekindle the fire.

You're glad he’s back to normal. You weren’t sure how long he was going to be a wolf, or if he was ever going to change back into the man you know, but you feel relieved now. You carefully lift the blanket to check the bandages, and you can see his injuries better now without the fur, and they look good. Nothing is infected, but the bandage on his shoulder needs to be changed. You run your fingers through his hair, then warm yourself by the fire and wait for him to wake up.

It’s not much longer before Wolffe begins to stir and shift uncomfortably on the hard wooden floor. You smile as you hear the familiar grunt he makes when he wakes up from a good night’s sleep and you bask in the sound of the deep voice you love so much. You turn from the fire to look at him, and you see him try to push himself up from the floor and onto all fours. You scoot across the rug and gently push him back down before he reopens the wound on his shoulder.

“Cyare,” Wolffe says, his voice rough with sleep. He tries to touch his nose to you, but he misses by several inches, not realizing that he’s back to his human form.

“It’s me,” you giggle.

“You can understand me?” Wolffe asks in confusion.

“You’re you again,” you explain as you grab his hand and touch it to his face. “See? No fur.”

Wolffe grunts like he has a hangover and places a hand against his throbbing head. “Must have changed back in my sleep.”

“Yeah, about that…” you say, trying to segue into the obvious.

Wolffe slowly sits up, the blanket falling down around his waist. “It’s a long story.”

“We’ve got time,” you counter while sitting down next to him. “The blizzard hasn’t let up.”

Wolffe sighs. He knew this conversation was coming and he thought of several ways to explain it to you without it sounding like some bizarre folktale, but he’d rather not. “You won’t believe me.”

“Try me,” you say with folded arms.

A shiver runs up Wolffe’s spine and he realizes he’s naked. “Can I have my blacks first?”

“Oh, yes, of course,” you say before getting up and grabbing the spare set of blacks Wolffe put in his pack, then returning to hand them to him. “Sorry about that.”

Wolffe chuckles and grabs his blacks from your hands. “Nothing to be sorry about.”

Wolffe quickly puts his blacks on and melts into the comfort of the tight bodysuit against his bare skin. He sits back down next to you and immediately pulls you into his lap, your back against his chest, and wraps his arms around your stomach while burrowing his face in your neck. He peppers your neck with soft kisses, making you smile. His kisses become longer, more focused, and he trails them from your neck down to your shoulder as his hands creep under your shirt.

“Wolffe,” you say knowingly.

“Hm?” he mumbles into your neck.

“You’re stalling,” you say as you remove his hands from under your shirt.

Wolffe grunts at your perceptiveness. He really thought he could make you forget by working you up, but he was dead wrong. You want to know, and he knows you well enough that you won’t let it go until you have an answer. With a heavy sigh, he stops his attack of kisses and shuffles you around in his lap so you’re facing him. “Are you sure you want to know?”

“Yes,” you answer. “Tell me everything.”

Wolffe sighs and begins his recount of the events.

“It was near the beginning of the war. My first campaign after losing my battalion and my eye. I was at my lowest point back then.”

Your shoulders slump and eyes soften at his words.

“During the campaign I got separated from the battalion, on a world similar to this one, and I found myself cold and alone on the side of a snowy mountain, staring up at the night sky and waiting to die. Thought I was going to.”

You lean your head on his shoulder as you continue to listen.

“Then I saw these green and blue lights appear out of nowhere and dance across the black sky, right over my head. They were beautiful. As I stared up at the lights, I saw this white figure jumping down from them like it was a staircase or something. As it got closer, it kinda looked like a wolf, but it was see-through and wispy-like. I’d never seen something like that before.”

You chuckle at Wolffe’s descriptions.

“You find it funny, but I thought I was dying and seeing things. So, the wispy-wolf-looking thing came over to me, and I mean it stood right next to me, and started talking to me. It said I had a ‘strong heart’ and a ‘wise mind’, or something like that, and then it asked me if I wanted to live. I actually thought about saying no, but I ended up saying yes for whatever reason.”

You grab onto Wolffe tightly, and he rubs your back to soothe you.

“Then it spoke again and said it was an ancient wolf-spirit that travels across the night sky, waiting for someone worthy who can tether it back to the ground, or something like that. It didn’t make much sense to me, but I agreed. It was better than dying on that mountainside. Then that thing walked right inside of me and I nearly pissed myself.”

You snort.

“That was my first transformation into an actual wolf. Once I was in the wolf form, I could smell and see and sense all kinds of things. That’s how I found my way back to the battalion. The general was the only one who knew it was me, through the force I guess, and we never told anyone. It took a little to figure out how to transform back, but the wolf-spirit’s been inside me ever since.”

“You can’t get rid of it?” you ask. “Just out of curiosity.”

“Not that I know of,” Wolffe shrugs. “It’ll probably leave me when I die, and go back up into the dancing lights.”

“I guess that makes sense,” you say.

Wolffe tilts his head to the side. “It does?”

“Well, yeah,” you answer.

“So, you believe me?” Wolffe asks.

“Of course,” you say with a small laugh. “There’s no reason not to. Besides, there’s lots of things in this galaxy that we don’t know about, and wolf spirits now aren’t one of them.”

Wolffe gives you a crooked smile and places his forehead against yours. “I don’t deserve you.”

You lean into the embrace and sigh, but your happy moment is interrupted by your growling stomach.

“Hungry?” Wolffe asks.

“A little,” you answer while getting off his lap.

You walk over to the table and pull out the last package of rations from Wolffe’s pack. You open the package and put one of the bars in your mouth, then throw the other one to Wolffe. He catches it, but he doesn’t eat it.

“You can have mine,” Wolffe says.

You cross your arms. “You need to eat.”

“I can wait,” he says.

“You're injured,” you argue. “You need energy to recover.”

“I have reserves,” he retorts.

“Wolffe,” you huff. “I’m not arguing with you. Eat the bar.”

“I said, no,” he says sternly.

“Fine,” you say as you put your coat on. “Then I’ll go find you something to eat.”

Wolffe gets up from the floor and grabs your arm. “You’re not going anywhere.”

You give Wolffe an incredulous look, then yank your arm back. “What is your problem all of a sudden?”

“I’ll go out and find us some food,” he says.

“You’re injured!” you exclaim. “If you transform back into a wolf, you’re going to break open your wound!”

“That’s a risk I’m willing to take,” he says.

“Well, I’m not,” you huff and start walking towards the cabin door.

Wolffe stands in front of it with his arms crossed. “You’re staying in this cabin and that’s an order.”

“Wolffe, I swear to the Maker, you can’t just pull rank on me whenever it suits you!” you exclaim.

“Too bad,” he says.

You fume and try to push past him. “Get out of my way!”

Wolffe groans. “Stop fighting me!”

“Stop telling me what to do!” you yell.

Wolffe grabs your shoulders and shakes you. “What do I have to do, huh?” he asks. “Tie you up?”

“Maybe,” you sneer.

“Why can’t you just listen to me?!” he exclaims.

“Because,” you begin, “you’re not making the best decision for the two of us!”

Wolffe’s patience snaps. “Only because I’m trying to make the best decision for the three of us!”

You pause, taken aback by his choice of words. “Three?”

Wolffe sighs and leans his head back against the door, kicking himself for saying the one thing he didn’t want to say.

“Wolffe,” you ask slowly. “What do you mean by three?”

Wolffe wipes his hand across his face and looks at your confused expression. “You’re pregnant.”

You gasp in shock. “What– How– When– How do you know that?”

Wolffe rubs the back of his neck. “It started out as more than a hunch, but when I transformed into a wolf, I knew for sure because I could hear its heartbeat.”

You place a hand on your stomach and stagger backwards, looking for a place to sit as you try to process this life-changing information.

Wolffe catches you and guides you to one of the chairs by the table. He kneels down in front of you and takes your hands in his. “I wasn’t going to say anything until you figured it out on your own. I’m sorry. It would’ve been difficult to explain.”

You stare at Wolffe, still in disbelief. “I’m pregnant?”

Wolffe nods his head. “Yeah.”

“I’m pregnant,” you say as you continue to stare at Wolffe.

Wolffe isn’t sure what to do, so he just stays still and waits for you to make the next move.

Suddenly, the lightbulb turns on in your head. “That’s why you gave me your rations and why you didn’t want me to leave.”

Wolffe lets his shoulders relax as you finally understand. “Exactly,” he sighs. “I was worried about the baby.”

You start to laugh and Wolffe raises his eyebrow in confusion. You throw your arms around Wolffe’s neck and squish yourself against him tightly. He pulls you from the chair to sit in his lap and holds you there for as long as you will let him. He rubs your back with his hands and soothes you with soft kisses along your neck.

“Will you let me take care of you now?” he whispers.

“Yeah,” you mumble.

Wolffe gives you one last big squeeze, then hoists you up to carry you over to the rug near the fire. He places you down gently on the rug and wraps you up in the blanket, then gives you a small kiss on the cheek. “I’ll be back soon.”

“Promise?” you ask.

“Promise,” he answers.

Wolffe removes his blacks, since it’s the only pair he has and he doesn’t want to ruin them, then hands them to you. “Here, they should smell like me now.”

You smile, take them from him, and breathe in his calming scent.

Wolffe leaves the cabin, making sure the door latches securely behind him, then transforms into a wolf so he can find some food. His shoulder wound still hurts, but he can walk on it without much of a limp now, which is fine for him. Even if it was broken, he would still go out and find you food. The urge to protect and provide is so much stronger now that he knows beyond a shadow of a doubt that you’re carrying his child. He would do anything to keep you both safe.

Now that you’ve settled down and have time to think, you feel bad for being angry and argumentative with Wolffe. Everything he’s done for you since he first found you in the forest has been to protect you and the baby you didn’t even know about. You can’t even begin to imagine how difficult it has been for him to keep that secret for so many weeks. You’re body hasn’t changed, so it never even occurred to you that you could be pregnant, but he knew.

You wait diligently in front of the fire for Wolffe to return, wishing you had a data-pad to distract yourself with, or even a deck of cards, or anything. Waiting in the quiet is making you fidget out of boredom, and if you’re not careful, you’ll fidget your fingernails right off your fingers. You need something busy yourself with, so you scan around the cabin to try and find inspiration. Then you realize that whatever food Wolffe brings back with him is going to need to be cooked. Bingo.

You throw Wolffe’s top blacks over your head, so you don’t have to carry the blanket around, and you walk over to the kitchen portion of the room. You go through all of the broken cabinets and drawers until you find something to cook in. You have a fire, but throwing some dead carcass on an open flame makes your stomach churn. Eventually, you find a large pan hidden away in a corner. It’s a little dusty, but it’ll do. You clean it off, then set it near the fire to preheat.

Satisfied with your preparations, you sit back down onto the rug and continue to wait for Wolffe. Your wait isn’t much longer before Wolffe returns from his hunt, but then again, without a chronometer, you can’t tell how long he’s actually been gone. The latch on the cabin door opens, then closes abruptly, and you smile while stoking the fire. You hear him take a few steps into the cabin as the floor creaks beneath his weight, but the steps are followed by a loud thud.

You whip around to see Wolffe lying on the ground, his fresh kill next to him. You rush over to check and make sure he’s still breathing, and he is. Thank the Maker. His body is cold from exposure, which makes sense, but you notice his breathing is labored and he’s sweating. You put your hand to his forehead and it’s hot. He has a fever. You curse under your breath, and check under the bandage on his shoulder. It’s red around the edges, just what you were afraid of.

“Wolffe,” you say. “I need you to get up for me.”

Wolffe groans.

“Come on,” you say while putting his arm around your shoulder. “You’re too heavy for me. I need you to help me.”

Wolffe musters what he can and you do your best to drag him over to the rug by the fire. His body is cold, and you need to warm him up so he has a chance to fight the infection. You lay him down on the rug and work to get his blacks on. It’s a struggle, and you wish he would’ve stayed in his wolf form since it came with its own fur coat, but you guess it’s better if he can talk to you. You cover him with the blanket, then focus on cleaning and redressing his shoulder.

Once you get Wolffe situated, you turn your attention to the dead creature at the door. You're not completely sure how to turn it into dinner, so you just throw it into the pan next to the fire and hope for the best. It’s better than starving, but you wish you could make it into soup to help Wolffe. You think for a moment, then get an idea. You grab snow from outside and use it to fill the pan. Then take the electrolyte package from the medpack and dump it in the pan too.

You look at your concoction brewing by the fire and narrow your eyes. “That’s going to taste awful.”

“Mesh’la,” Wolffe calls in between pants.

You turn your attention away from the pan and back to Wolffe, then scoot over to him. “I’m here.”

“Sorry,” he breathes.

You smile and wipe his forehead with your sleeve. “Don’t be. You took good care of me, of us. Now it’s my turn.”

Wolffe doesn’t respond, but you know he would if he could. What’s important now is that he gets rest.

After a little while, you check on the weird soup you’re trying to make and see that the creature is thoroughly cooked, at least, you think it’s thoroughly cooked. You taste some of the ‘broth’ and you’re not impressed, but at least it has salt and nutrients in it. You scoop up the broth into one of the bowls you found and bring it over to Wolffe. You situate yourself behind him so he can sit up against you and you can help him drink it. He fights you on it, but you eventually win.

Once you’re both fed, you throw more logs on the fire and settle in on the rug next to Wolffe. He’s shivering from his fever, so you snuggle up to him to try and keep both of you warm. It’s not ideal for you, but you know Wolffe would try to give you the blanket and his blacks if he knew you were cold, and you can’t let him do that, not when he’s sick. With Wolffe heating your back and the fire heating your front, you let your mind slow down and drift off to sleep.

The next two rotations, you guess, are similar. Wolffe’s fever continues as he fights the shoulder infection and the blizzard still rages on outside. You wonder if it’ll ever stop. The only good thing about the cold is that you can leave the leftovers outside and defrost them by the fire when you need them. Lucky for you, Wolffe brought back a decent sized creature that you’ve been able to ration out. But, the food reserves are dwindling, and neither of you will survive on nothing.

Finally, on the third rotation, you think, Wolffe’s fever breaks and his infection looks much better. He continually apologizes to you for getting sick, but he knew that if he didn’t bring back food, and he fell ill, you both would have been in trouble. You, of course, tell him not to worry about it and that you’re glad he came back safely. He saved your life, again, and you couldn’t be more grateful. Actually, he saved both you and your baby’s life, which makes you love him even more.

Not long afterwards, you both notice a silence. It’s still dark outside, but there’s a certain sound missing. The sound of the howling winds. You walk over to the cabin door, with Wolffe right behind you, and you open it to see nothing but a white ground and a black sky. The storm is over. You smile and lean back against Wolffe’s chest in relief. Now you can leave and head towards the rendezvous point to meet up with the battalion. It won’t be difficult with Wolffe leading the way.

As you stare out into the darkness, hot puffs of breath mingling into the cold night air, the sky lights up with green and blue colored streaks. Your mouth gapes and your eyes widen at the magical sight. It’s just like Wolffe described, dancing lights in the night sky. Wolffe wraps an arm around you and pulls you close against him and smiles. He’s happy you get to see them too. Then he hears the spirit within him howl towards the dancing lights above and he feels complete.

Masterlist

AO3

Tag List: @nahoney22 @commander-sunshine @sunshinesdaydream @padawancat97 @verndusk @sun-roach @coraex @lickylickylicky @homemade-clones @523rdrebel @clonemedickix @starrylothcat @mooncommlink @ladyzirkonia @stunkbiggu @cdblake1565 @ladytano420 @moonlightwarriorqueen @anxiouspineapple99 @clonethirstingisreal @dreamie411 @trixie2023 @cw80831 @t3mpest98 @novas-daydreaming @rinwritesfics @ca77m3anna

Join my taglist HERE

Tip me a tea on Ko-fi HERE

[sinfulsalutations]

𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕟𝕠𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 ⋆*･ﾟ𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕝𝕗𝕗𝕖

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ʙᴏʀᴅᴇʀʟɪɴᴇ ꜰᴜʀʀʏ, ʀᴏᴜɢʜ-ɪꜱʜ ᴘ ɪɴ ᴠ ꜱᴇx, ɢʀᴏᴡʟɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ꜱʜɪ!!!

⋆ ★ ᴛᴡᴀꜱ ᴛʜɪɴᴋɪɴɢ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴍʏ ɢᴜɪʟᴛʏ ᴘʟᴇᴀꜱᴜʀᴇꜱ ʜᴇᴀᴅᴄᴀɴɴᴏɴꜱ ᴀɴᴅ ᴅᴇᴄɪᴅᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴡʀɪᴛᴇ ꜱᴏᴍᴇᴛʜɪɴɢ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴀʙᴏᴜᴛ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴡᴀʏʏʏʏ ᴛᴏᴏ ɪɴᴛᴏ ᴍᴀᴋɪɴɢ ᴀɴɪᴍᴀʟ ʟɪᴋᴇ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅꜱ ɪɴ ʙᴇᴅ. ɴᴏ ᴊᴏᴋᴇ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴛᴜʀɴ ᴏɴ ᴍʏ ꜰᴀɴ ᴡʜɪʟᴇ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ, ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴍᴀɴ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴍᴀᴋᴇꜱ ᴍᴇ ꜱᴏ 🥵🥵🥵 ɪ ᴡᴇɴᴛ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ᴛʜɪꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ʟɪᴋᴇ 5 ꜱᴇᴄᴏɴᴅꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴘᴏꜱᴛɪɴɢ, ꜱᴏ ᴀᴘᴏʟᴏɢɪᴇꜱ ɪꜰ ᴛʜᴇʀᴇ ᴀʀᴇ ᴀɴʏ ᴇxᴛʀᴇᴍᴇʟʏ ᴇᴍʙᴀʀʀᴀꜱꜱɪɴɢ ᴛʏᴘᴏꜱ ʟᴍᴀᴏ. ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴍʏ ʟᴏᴠᴇʟʏ ᴅᴇᴘʀᴀᴠᴇᴅ ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀꜱ :)

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

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

He's rocking his hips in tandem with yours at the pace of a fucking rabbit. 

It literally took only about ten minutes when he returned to you from a long deployment to get you back in bed again, his body unable to stop itself from thrusting his tight codpiece into your core, looking composed yet utterly desperate for you. And now he’s had you like this, underneath him with your chest pressed to the mattress, squirming and gasping for almost thirty minutes now. He’s only just finally slipped his cock in.

How he's kept his stamina this high up for so long, getting you to come on his mouth and fingers and not even trying to take some pleasure for himself before finally splitting you open with his cock is difficult to figure out.

There's no space to think about that now, though. Not when a new sound has ruptured out of him.

At first, you don't even notice. You're too busy enraptured in your own release and just how damn good he feels inside of you. But then you feel the aftershocks, the vibrations of his voice as he slows his pace down for just a split second. You lift your chin up, tilting it to the side ever so slightly, with the smallest tinge of confusion on your face.

Did Wolffe just... growl?

Not even a typical kind of noise one might make when wrapped up in mind-numbing pleasure. It’s a type of noise that came from his pure, unadulterated, animal instincts.

Shit. Fuck. Why was that so hot?

“Wolffe?” You call out softly. There’s a large pause in the air, something thick. He lifts his body off of you, letting the cool air flow against your back. You sigh again and rest the side of your head on the mattress. 

“Hey…” You whine.

Wolffe doesn't respond; he graces you only with a dark grunt and pulls his hips back, pushing his body against your ass again with a hard thrust.

You can’t help but mewl in a meek voice, involuntarily clenching around him, but you don’t just forget immediately. He's still not kriffing responding to you. Not even a simple acknowledgment. Just expects to get right back to it as if he hadn’t just let out the most sinful noise fall from his mouth. Even worse is that you’re absolutely deadset on hearing it again. You can’t just continue like it was nothing.

So you decide to pull out the big guns.

“C'mon, I liked it,” You say with a vexatious, teasing tone, ending it with a borderline pornographic moan. To further effect, you pull your hips away, pushing yourself back onto his cock with a soft hum and resting your chin atop your shoulder. His eyes are cast onto yours without any intention of straying away, and his fingers curl rougher into your skin. He raises an eyebrow. You smirk victoriously and tilt your head with sweet, imploring eyes.

“Can you do it again for me?” The ask can’t be that big… can it?

He only grumbles, eyes finally looking away, and he moves to place his body back on top of yours. Like he’d never stopped, he rocks you again; a steady collision of each of your bodies with each other. You moan pleasantly, fingers curling into the mattress, but feel the difference in how he moves. His hands melodically, yet sporadically squeeze your hips, and you don’t even realize that his hand has moved and is slowly rubbing tight circles on your clit until the shiver runs through you.

“What do you want me to do for you?” He then asks, low and husked, against your ear.

The only thing that comes out of you is a whine because Wolffe blatantly decides to press onto your clit and thrust into you harder. There’s a giddy smile on his stupidly handsome face, and you know this without seeing it because of just how pronounced it is against your skin. “Gotta say it clearly, sweet doll.”

You’re just barely able to get your words out through desperate whines and soughs.

“Growl for me.”

A melodic hum is his only response, and he continues thrusting. You clench, once, twice, eyebrows furrowed. You try to sobber out his name, but it comes more jumbled; both of you can feel how absolutely wrecked you are.

Then, Wolffe finally speaks.

“Think you’re forgetting something important at the end there.”

Oh, this asshole.

“Please,” you beg anyway, because this asshole has you whipped. Then, only then, do you get what you want.

He sounds like an animal behind you, the rumble of his voice seeping into your skin like a snake, your entire body being inflicted with waves of absolute filth. Not just growls, even; he’s letting out the most deprived and primal noises leave his throat. How long has this pent up? Because there’s absolutely no way he’s just now susceptible to carnal noises from pleasure.

Either way, he sounds delighted.

You’re feeling just about the same as well.

tags: @dukeoftheblackstar @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius

[wonderfulwonderrful]

Season of Love (1/?)

+18 | Toto x reader fem!teamprincipal

Summary: One night on a pier in Monaco, while admiring the sea under the night skies, you told Toto, "I came to the conclusion that love is simply not meant for me." That was the answer to a question you have been asking yourself for the longest time. But what if he proved you wrong. Pairing: Toto Wolff x reader team principal. Genre: Romance, comedy, and some good drama. Author's note: Hi, fam! I'm nervous since this is my very first fanfic. I have been following this tag for a while now, and I got so inspired by all the talent here that I went and wrote my own story. Please be kind to me. English is my second language. I will upload chapters regularly - using this hashtag and on #seasonoflovefic. I have been dealing with anxiety the entire year; writing this has been part of my healing process. I hope you like it. (By the way, this story is fun and light-spirited.)

Dances With Wolff Arc Chapter 1: Engines on and hearts off!

Bahrain

It is a hot and sunny day in Bahrain. Golden hour is set, and every single person in the paddock seems to be in a rush. It is the usual chaos every pre-season brings.

Toto makes his way through the sea of people, cables, tire carts, and cameras at his regular pace - which means those toned and long legs going full speed - rocking this year's Mercedes kit and a new pair of designer sunglasses, phone in hand when it buzzes.

—Breaking news: After lengthy negotiations during the break, the De Vos Group acquired Williams Racing - as speculated. New female owner Y/N De Vos will be joining the paddock this season. The team's principal will soon be announced. Check our exclusive first look with her.

Toto reads on his iPhone after tapping the Sky Sports push notification, slowing his pace a second. He raises an eyebrow and gazes around, noticing many people in the packed pitlane doing the same, slowing the frenzy on the floor for a close bit. 

He reaches out for his pockets and puts on the Bose earbuds before hitting the play button. Curiosity is overpowering him - and, honestly, excitement, too - as he looks at the preview thumbnail. A stunning, tan-skinned woman with great, shiny hair and a beautiful smile appears in front of the microphone with a smug smirk.

—God, she's gorgeous —Toto lets out to himself. Continuing his way to the Mercedes garage. This year, it is located one spot before Williams and following Ferrari's.

Finally, something exciting, someone new. After years of dominating the game, trying not to sound too egomaniac, every season starts to feel like routine to him. Toto is hitting a personal low, avoiding calling it what it is: depression mixed with boredom, especially this season and at this moment in his life. Same old tracks, same old challenges, same old people, same old ways, same old Toto.

You answer the interviewer's questions with ease. You are very well-spoken in his eyes like you are used to doing press or public speaking, and you have a cheeky sense of humor. Toto gets captivated, to say the least. He puts his phone into his back pocket and continues walking while listening to your interview, muffling the paddock's noise.

You have a soft voice, a professional speech pattern, and excellent enunciation, reinforcing Toto's idea of you being trained at it. He detects some accent but can't figure out where it is from. He listens to the whole thing; it's impossible for him not to sigh at the stupid questions they ask you a couple of times. The more Toto listens, the more questions he has for you in his mind. He may get them answers later when he finally meets you.

So far, you seem like a breeze of fresh air, and Toto is desperate to breathe you.

And yeah, no question Williams looks different. Toto, as usual, ventures to inspect more than he should - and is allowed to - taking a good peek at your brand-new garage. Knowing quite well, he also is hoping to spot you in person.

The garage looks tech and minimalistic, matching your new modern W logo. Whites, blacks, and touches of grey colors predominated. The lighting, screens, and interior design look so futuristic, expensive, and dope; it's a whole vibe. It is a sexy garage! A phrase he never imagined using. What F1 has done to a man?

Toto can feel the desperate modernity Williams once needed and the resources. Of course, he knew firsthand the Williams family was looking to sell after years of struggling to win races and its economics. Toto remained neutral throughout the process, informed but not too involved. He had felt a little indifferent about the entire ordeal till now. 

He hopes not to sound insensitive. Of course, he has a special place in his heart for that team and its people, he first started there, but the businessman side of him knows it is the right call and best for them. Of course, it's sad, but that is the game: evolve or die.

He knows his investment is in good hands because last he had heard, and in Niki's words, it got acquired by a Belgian zillionaire, and Niki reassured him it was a perfect choice. He was respectable and trustworthy, and Toto didn't need to know more. But this sudden change - and announcement - took him a bit by surprise. Little did he know.

-

Gossip and theories fill the paddock. Supporters and haters - already - are all over social media, typing divided opinions as usual. It is the talk of the town, and you, you are the center of it at this point; there is more to come.

Toto greets his team on his way to his chair, already inside Merc's garage after doing his little on-site research. A couple of pats on the back and hugs later, he makes himself comfortable in his spot while catching up with Bono. 

Just as Toto is about to place the headphones on his head, the corner of his eyes caught Samanta, better known as "Sam" - a beautiful, thin, young, pale-skin, platinum blondie - Niki's assistant, hugging you goodbye and walking towards him. 

You wave Niki hello from afar and on your way to the W garage.

For the briefest moment, Toto's eyes and yours met. You are more petite than he expects. And you dress very classy and minimal but with a sexy touch. You match the new identity of Williams, or well, Williams matches your style. The Jacquemus "La robe saudade" dress you wear hugs your curves, accentuating your beautiful toned legs and great ass. He couldn't avoid staring you down as you walked past. Sometimes, he was just a simple man.

Toto suddenly feels the Arabic heat rushing through his body.

—Getting up close with the enemy, tearing down its walls, I like your style, evil as I would expect from you —he says to Sam, now next to him, as she takes off her access badge and picks up her tablet from a drawer.

—Bok, dumb. No bad blood! Just a friendly welcome to this testosterone hell, you know, girls being supportive of one another. I'm pretty sure you will like her, and judging by that look you just gave her, I guess you already.

—Začepi, dumber —Toto answers in his usual authoritarian and collected deep voice, but jokingly. He feels his cheeks turning red. —Spill how, when…

—We were roomies a long time ago. I adore her, she's great, strong, intelligent, kind, fun, and so damn hot. That's all you need to know for now, and that's all I'm telling you.

Sam is the youngest daughter of the Dobrev heirs, a very wealthy and old-money Croatian - almost royal - family who owns multiple fleets and half the country, like filthy rich. They are famous for being all platinum blondes, having many scandals, and investing in motor and water sports. They are one of the main Mercedes-AMG sponsors. 

As far as Toto knows, Sam doesn't have the best relationship with her family and dislikes talking about it, but he knows she cares a lot about her elder brother, to whom Toto hears her speak on the phone now and then.

After years and years of working and traveling the world together, Sam lets her walls down with Toto, becoming great friends and this sort of family away from family, although she remains pretty reserved on some subjects. He loves her like a little sister. She is pretty younger than him and sometimes reminds him of his own sister. Niki always describes them two as his annoying children, always teasing and bickering at each other when possible. The old man cares so much for them personally and at work, and they do, too.

Toto wonders if by "old roomie" she means ex-girlfriend? He has met some of Samanta's "roomies," and… Toto doesn't feel like pushing. He wonders if you may have someone... You know... As team principal, he has to learn about other teams' dynamics, right?

He tosses the thought off and gets in the zone. They have another title to win.

-

You hug Samanta goodbye and take a glance at the Merc garage. Sam is family to you, and you heard so much about them and F1 over the years, ever since she moved out of the Manor after having that massive fight with her parents and started working for Mercedes-AMG, swearing to make a living of her own and never needing them EVER again, a bit over dramatic reaction but that who Sam is and you love her that way. 

She is also your bestie; you two text each other daily. Thanks to her, you knew everything about everyone in the paddock: the good and bad, scandals, and more. Yet they knew nothing about you. For them, you are brand new and the perfect excuse to gossip about.

And there he is, Torger Christian Wolff, the guy Sam couldn't stop gushing you about. Damn, she is right, Toto is gorgeous. You would feel slightly jealous of their closeness if he wasn't Sam's cup of tea. But you can't get distracted; you have a purpose for being there, and nothing will get in the middle. Even if you are dying to meet him, even if you treasure every detail you know about Toto, even if you have been fantasizing about him for the longest time, not to mention being half in love with the man already or the idea of him. Sam made him sound like such a remarkable and caring human being. 

Niki waves hello to you from afar, and you wave back. You adore that old man. He is one of the reasons why the Williams family agreed to sell you the team. Without his support, it wouldn't have been possible.

You met Niki two winters ago; thanks to Sam, you explained to him your motives and why you wanted to buy a team, and he fully agreed to support you and mentor you throughout the whole process. He is a badass and one of the kindest people you have ever met. You immediately felt embraced by the Laudas. Along with Sam, they are among the very few people who know your entire story and genuinely know you, the real you. 

Back to the present day. You feel Toto's dark eyes set on you and can't resist ignoring them even if your life depends on it, so you look back at him. For the briefest moment, your eyes met. The desert is too hot, isn't it? Uff, what's going on with this heat? Damn you global warming! 

So you better hurry yourself away before it is too late and you dare to get closer to him. You reach your new team's garage at the speed of light, so it is fittable for the place you are at. It feels weird saying "your" so much. 

Everything is so different from the world you are used to, but you don't feel nervous. You are a woman on a mission, and after all you have gone through in life, you are not that kind of girl. You bear a challenge.

You greet your team. —He hasn't arrived yet? —you ask the aero performance engineer while he is placing green and yellow dots on the left side of the new car. You reached close to inspect the latest upgrades.

The car is beautiful, matte black with a powerful Lamborghini engine. They are your main sponsor and partner and the only one, which is insanely impressive. No million logos, no visual noise - it is something to see due to F1 budgets. 

Commotion and gasps come from the outside. While you ask the engineer that question, a frenzy starts in the front of the garages. You watch camerapersons and fans pass by, running crazy. Total mayhem.

Oh, there he is.

-

Toto's phone buzzes again - in the middle of that circus - "Breaking news; The legend is BACK. Michael Schumacher joins Williams as Team Principal, son Mick Schumacher, and the sensation of the moment, female driver Millie Dobrev joins him along as drivers."

The FIA, in its many attempts to be perceived as "forward" or "woke," has allowed for the first time mixed-gender racing, starting this season - about damn time! Millie is one of the top female drivers and the youngest, achieving a lot at a young age and becoming a serious threat to everyone on her way. 

—Dobrev… Dobrev?! —Toto looks from the photo on his phone screen to Sam and back; a very young petite girl - with sun-kissed skin, short platinum blonde hair with pink ends and clear blue eyes, a round face with delicate features - poses in a pastel color outfit doing a Korean heart gesture with her hands, fingers full of expensive jewelry. —Care to explain?

—Yes, did I mention she's my dear niece? —Sam answers, deadpan.

—The fuck —Toto says —Are all blond Croatians your family? —Toto teases.

—Hilariously accurate —she laughs it off.

—Your niece?! You are like twelve, how old is she, two!? Can't believe you are an aunt already. I don't know what to do with that fact..."

Samanta rolls her eyes. "Thank my gross old uncle with a young trophy wife?" she thinks.

—So you keep secrets from me, huh? I thought ours was special.

—You give yourself too much importance. And yes, that's why my hair grew bigger during the break. It's full of secrets! —Sam replies. Swinging her long, straight locks.

—What??? —Toto doesn't get her Mean Girls reference.

—Sometimes I forget you are prehistoric, almost fossil.

They both fulminate each other with gazes in a classic and frequent stare-down. Then Sam proceeds to cross tasks on her tablet, slowly stepping away.

—Don't you dare run away from me! You have things to explain, missy.

—Sorry, I'm so busy right now, unlike you.

—I'm busy.

—No, you are not; you are trying to gossip!

—I'm always busy. I'm this team's principal, to remind you, so yes, I'm important, and maybe… maybe… I'm trying to gossip… a little bit —Toto gestures with his hand.

—Could you two stop?! —Niki calls it quits, half annoyed, half laughing, struggling to hear clearly what the tactics team is trying to tell him, turning around on his barstool and waving his hand at them.

Toto and Sam laugh softly, and Toto makes a small O with his mouth while Sam pretends to adjust her invisible tie before returning to business and being professional people doing professional tasks.

Toto looks once more at his phone screen. —Impressive —it's all he lets out. Toto can't wait. He can't wait.

-

It's been a long time since Michael set foot on the paddock, after years of being retired and living almost exclusively to recover - after his infamous accident - and trying to enjoy being a father and a husband when possible. He became this mythical figure that existed in F1 and people's minds but is nowhere to be seen, making him feel like a ghost. Nowadays, he is doing way better but was getting bored of being a recluse at home waiting for the right moment, for that one sign that make it all start over for him. 

And there she is, in front of him, doing a fake courtesy.

—Welcome back, Kaiser —you joke with him.

—Hi, boss! —Michael greets you with a thick German accent and sweet voice. —Sorry about that! —He pushes you aside as a photographer flashes photos. The lens almost hits you in the face while two other cameramen bump into each other. —Better if we go inside. There's lots to talk about and to get ready to start testing. This is bonkers! —he finishes saying, looking at the circus surrounding you two.

—Okay. Let's go then, Schumi —you reply to him.

You feel ready.

-

The testing goes out smoothly for Mercedes. There are just a few sensor improvements and small details to fix, but only a little to worry about. Lewis and George seem happy with their car's performance, and the team feels optimistic.

As for Toto, his day was stressful; he felt exhausted after many meetings and people asking him questions all day, demanding his attention at all times. The hours went at an alarming speed. Somehow, the day is done, but the amount of work has just started. He blinks and is dark already, and the chauffeur is now driving him to his suite in a high-end hotel.

Tomorrow is a crucial day for the team, and his schedule is full of press, too. So he needs a good night of beauty sleep; at the moment, he looks like trash and feels like it. Toto likes to keep it real. He loves the attention of being under the reflectors and calling the shots but still isn't a massive fan of media day.

Speaking of the devil, he takes out his phone and opens his news app. Toto relaxes in the big luxury car seat. He has bookmarked several sites that cover F1, his long, unhealthy habit. He likes to stay current, even if he has "briefing" and a person in charge of doing that.

Even though he doesn't want to feel like a stalker, he pretty much is acting like it. Toto refreshes the app to read the latest news about Williams and you. He learns all he can of you from the newly released press articles; there is little about your background, past, or in general; all he keeps reading appears to be PR-approved since it is constantly reprised on different platforms, which feels weird.

Google doesn't offer him much either, just a couple of articles with photos in which you appear in various charity events related to children's foundations. It is like you don't exist online.

Toto reads your most recent interview and Michael's, and you both appear in good spirits about your car performance. He hates losing but loves a good challenge. A good old-fashioned on-track battle. For a change.

-

The bellboy opens the suite's double doors for him and carries Toto's things inside. It is a massive entrance and makes him feel tiny in comparison. Toto notices a small LV suitcase in front of the large door, next to a big antique wooden carved table, in the middle of the foyer under the soft dim coming from a stunning Tiffany's chandelier, which lits the room and reflects on the exquisite tile walls. The Arabic architecture and interior design of the place are breathtaking.

It means Susie has stopped by. Their relationship is in a weird spot, in one of those hiccups they face occasionally after dating forever and from a very young age. Their relationship at the moment feels monotonous, and love is lacking, which is slowly killing him. He still loves her very much but could sense he is losing her. Especially since they started seeing each other less and less - although he wouldn't blame anyone who has to bear with his crazy schedule - they almost stopped texting and talking to each other, too, and sex is nonexistent. So many red flags.

—Hi, schatzi —Toto greets her.

—Hi, Toto —she gives him a quick kiss. —You look tired.

—I am, but I'm happy you are here —he says, wrapping his arms around her waist and resting his temple on hers. Soon after, he lifts Sussie from the ground into a tight hug. There is a clear height difference.

—I know. I'm happy to see you too, even if it's for a brief moment. I was hoping you got free sooner. Our jet has permission to take off in an hour exactly.

—I'm sorry, today was crazy —Toto apologizes.

—I can imagine. I tried to communicate with you earlier, but it was impossible to reach you; it was almost like you were avoiding me.

God, she knows him so well. Yes, he has been avoiding her - although not today, he honestly had a crazy day - but since they had that awkward and hurtful conversation at their New Year's Eve reception at their house in Oxford. Not because he is angry at her or scared, he misses her a lot. It's just he has been unable to decide and come up with an answer to the situation.

—I wanted to clear things out between us before the start of the season. I'm aware that from now on, you only get busier and more challenging to reach, and my schedule this year is also insane, Sussie says.

—Yes, love. Tell me what you need?

—Your thoughts.

—On what? —Toto pretends to be confused and not get what she is referring to. 

—Come on, Torger. Would you like me to remind you of our last conversation at New Year's?

Silence.

The last time they saw each other in person was months ago. He panicked after that conversation and left for Austria, calling it a business trip and a visit to his sister to spend time with his nephews. She didn't follow him around. Because it was clear he was running away and needed time alone without her.

—So... as I mentioned to you that night... You wanted to try for children this year, and I let you know I didn't see that happening this year or any year. And that I have been feeling increasingly lonely since you spent most of your days away. Honestly, every day, we spend more time away from each other. My career keeps taking off, and I'm not raising children on my own amidst it! I can't even imagine the idea of being pregnant to start with! Plus, you said there's no way you are quitting your job, and I'm neither, so...

—I didn't say that. That's not how it went —Toto feels his head hurting now. He rubs his forehead, exasperated hearing Sussie's Director's Cut version of the events. "It went more like this: I don't get your full attention at all times like before, I'm not able to control you as I once did, and every time you ask me to spend time together, me traveling to you or you traveling to me, if it's not the way I want it I always come up with something to avoid it. Plus, I never mentioned to you before that I didn't want children, not once in the thousand times we discussed family and raising kids together, ah! And I always blame your job as the reason why things aren't working between us." That's how it happened, Toto thinks.

—The point is... —Sussie ignores him. Throwing him a look. —We didn't reach a middle ground but chose not to break things off immediately because none of us felt sure.

There is a pause and a big exhale from her. 

—That's why I suggested exploring having an open relationship. We would establish rules and limits. I know you are more traditional and don't envision this for us, but I wanted you to think about it and give it a chance, not to run away and avoid me after suggesting it. I don't want to hurt you. I don't want to be with someone else behind your back because I still love you, and I want us to work. I feel we both need someone who is present in our lives to touch us and hold us when we feel like it. 

Toto feels crushed. All he wants is to settle down, start a family, and become a good father - as his father was to him - he never expected Sussie to go in the opposite direction. His intention has never been to make her choose between a career or kids. This isn't the case. It is going to be a two-person job. Besides that, they have all the privileges, resources, and support to successfully achieve being both parents and having careers simultaneously. —This isn't the right moment for this conversation. I had an...

—It's never the right moment for you! Christ's sake, Toto! I..! —Sussie starts losing it and gets emotional. He can't avoid feeling miserable. Suddenly, Toto felt the day's weight on his shoulders and back, which was killing him now; he needed a soft mattress to lay down so desperately. He doesn't want to make the drama bigger.

—Okay, easy, love —he hugs her. —I will think about it and give you an answer this week.

—You promise? Won't you run away from it anymore?

—I promise. I won't.

—This week, Toto! —Sussie wipes her tears, hugs him once more, and kisses him goodbye. —Let me know.

—Yes, this week. I will.

She grabs her suitcase and exits through the doors. Toto drags himself to bed with the remains of his energy, tosses his phone on the wireless charger nightstand, and lets himself drop on the mattress, face down. As he drifts away, a new notification red dot appears in the news app.

Now, an open relationship looks like an acceptable idea.

He falls asleep.

-

The view from your suite is impressive. Bahrain's entire skyline of modern skyscrapers is lit under the night skies, and the desert surrounding it looks beautiful through the floor-to-ceiling panoramic windows. 

It isn't your first time in Western Asia, but your first time traveling so far from home on your own. This hotel is insanely expensive, and the suite is humongous for you by yourself. If you weren't so used to inhabiting a massive, almost empty Manor with you as your own company, you would have felt anxious in such an isolated, huge, and quiet space. 

It is already late at night to text Samanta and meet her to chat. You both have work tomorrow and need to rest. But you have so much to catch up on - since yesterday? - No, but seriously, a lot had happened during your first day at the paddock.

As you are relaxing in the bathtub - you chose a bath bomb made of sea salt soap and local herbs with delicious scents - you let your mind go through all the day's events. You can't stop thinking of that pair of dark eyes going all over your body. You wanted to do the same. You wanted to admire him all. 

You have created many scenarios of what it would be like to meet him. But it went so differently than what you pictured. He doesn't even know who you are or doesn't even care about you. You two could become friends in the future, but for now, your feelings for him are all over the place, and you don't wish to let your heart shatter, not again. Besides, he has Sussie - of course, you have no idea what those two are going through - and you, well, who would want to be with you and your whole "situation"? Your chances with him are zero minus a hundred.

You do your skincare routine before sending yourself to bed - for sure, you will be visiting the hotel's spa in the following days - already dreading tomorrow, a day full of meetings and interviews, you are slightly nervous about what the press is going to ask you, even if Michael does the heavy lifting for you in those matters, everyone seems so curious about you. 

You turn the lights off and pray for a good night of sleep, free of the frequent nightmares you experience.

-

The following day, the driver's parade happens inside walls, while all drivers gather together in a small meeting room - a very office-looking space with sad, white-empty walls, gray carpeting, and way too lit up. Cold lighting is the worst! No F1 glamor on sight - this is part of one of the new progressive and "brilliant" ideas from the FIA. 

Chaos is unleashed as everyone looks for a chair with their name tag.

—Did everyone see her? —Lando asks loudly to the entire room - filled at the moment just by drivers - He is sitting backward in his chair, on the front row, facing the rest. He is wearing his McLaren kit and cap, which is worn backward.

—Yes, we all did. Unless you live under a rock, you have missed that circus, but coming from you, it wouldn't surprise me —Checo answers, joking. 

Lando purposely ignores him and throws him a dirty look and a kiss. —Then, ladies… From 1 to 10, how hard would you bang her? Starting with you, Seb —he asks everyone.

—Seriously, mate? So… sexist… —Vettel answers.

—Come on, bee-guy. What? It's just friendly chit-chat among us drivers, as the FIA would love to remind us, "This meeting's purpose is to establish communications between all teams drivers, their principals, along with the FIA representatives to build relationships and sportsmanship among-"

—Stop reading from the sign, idiot —Carlos says, following Lando's gaze to the sad poster pin crooked on the open door.

—Fine, but let's be honest here: she's the most exciting thing to happen to us in a while, not to mention the most recent. It's not like we are going to admire new guy Yuki's hips. All here have excellent vision, and she looked so FINE like you pervs didn't notice.

—Speak for yourself —Pierre answers jokingly, coming through on his way to his chair, passing in front of Lando in that reduced space, trying not to step on someone. Everyone laughs.

—She is so out of your league anyway; why bother? —Max mentions from the corner, sitting stretched out, his back against the wall, legs on top of the chair beside him. —And I agree with Pierre, Yuki's hips are immaculate, by the way.

—If someone cares, I think my vision is starting to fail me. I will need glasses soon —Nando jokes.

—Don't you worry, abuelo! It's just you getting even more ancient —Pato adds.

—I thought this meeting was for drivers? I mean real ones —Alonso jokes back.

—Oh, mate, low punch! I saw some of her interviews on telly; she is cheeky —George adds, drinking from a Merc bottle and standing near the door.

—Couldn't sound more British if you tried —Bottas adds. 

—He is your Royal Highness, Prince George —Lewis jokes.

—More like your Royal Ass-ness —Leclerc adds amidst laughs.

—I saw her interviews too! It's like Ricciardo got female, but was actually funny and hot —Lando replies.

—Fuck you, mate —Daniel answers, laughing. —You know, she could breastfeed you.

—I wouldn't mind —Lando kids, hitting Dani - sat beside him - on the ribs with his elbow. Today, he is set to act like a naughty boy.

—Lando!! —four drivers say in unison, in shock.

—You're so gross, mate, I swear —Lewis adds simultaneously, palm on his face, half laughing, half wanting to rip his own ears off.

—I'm pretty sure that would be so illegal. I don't want to go to jail, Mr. Officer! —you say, entering through the door. Everyone turns to look at you. You overhear that part of the conversation; it doesn't feel mean-spirit. Then Lando's face matches the red color on Charles' shirt as he slowly turns around on his chair and sits - the proper way - quiet and still. It's a hilarious scene.

—I'm not into minors, but I could change your diaper and read you some bedtime stories to make you fall asleep. "The Little Orange Tin" you would love —you joke to break off the tension.

Michael follows you inside, laughing under his breath. You two take your seats and start chatting casually, two places away. You are seated next to Lewis - to your right - and to an empty chair with no tag to your left by the end of the row. 

You are already a fan of Lewis. And again, you know so much about him because of Sam. Now, he is her favorite person on earth. You feel slightly hurt by that fact, but he sounds lovely, so honestly, it doesn't bother you.

—Hi, I'm Lewis —he offers you a fist bump.

—Hi, Lewis. I'm Y/N 

—How is F1 treating you? All good? —Sebastian asks you, popping out from Lewis's right. Both their attention to you. Heavens, those are some beautiful eyes. You can't figure out if they are green or blue, but you don't want to stare too long.

Sebastian's actual chair is next to Charles, some rows at the front, but he sits next to Lewis because he feels like it. Messing the order. An anarchist at heart.

—All good, thank you —you answer. —It's been chaotic, but I'm enjoying it. And I'm eager for the first race.

—Me too. I always miss driving during breaks —Lewis tells you.

—I agree —Seb adds. —It is the best feeling in the world, so it's hard to let go.

Then Millie enters the room - pink cat-ears headphones on, rocking the new Williams kit: A minimalistic stretchy sports jersey, a white tee with black seams, and the W logo in black print at the center of the chest. It is a fully fitted silhouette with a high neckline and short sleeves, paired with some sleek black sports slacks. 

Michael and you point Millie to the chair next to Michael - with her name tag - she gets there fast and takes off one side of her headphones.

—What up! —Millie greets. —Hi, Sebs!, Hi Lew! —she says extra sweetly and high-pitched tone, waving a hand while facing them. That girl is like a walking cartoon. She looks extra petite and young among those guys.

—Hi, Millie!!! —both of them answer in unison, with the same sweet-pitched tone. It's a cute moment.

Then, the room starts to fill up. And the FIA representative enters, meaning the meeting is about to begin.

A very rushed Mick gets in, also wearing the team's kit. Millie raises a hand and waves it, catching his attention. He moves very fast to his seat. And behind him enters Mattia and Toto, chatting with each other.

Holy shit. The fact that Toto would be there didn't cross your silly mind. And since Seb swapped chairs. The one where he sat belonged to Toto. So the chair next to you is empty and available for the Austrian. You see Mattia sit on the last free spot at the front, and Toto glances around, confused, till he spots the space to your side. You see him walk towards you almost in slow motion. And you set your mind to "if I pretend to not notice him, it means he's not there."

You sense him sitting only inches from you, his arm skin almost touching yours. While you keep your eyes locked straight ahead, point to the FIA guy without daring to move. He stretches while trying to adjust himself to a comfortable position. He is tall and muscular, and these chairs are a joke. His knee moves dangerously close to yours. For a moment, you see the inevitable contact coming. And your heartbeat starts to rise. But it doesn't happen. Damn, he smells so good! How on earth are you to get focus? 

And then the meeting begins.

The whole thing is lame. You and Lewis laugh several times at Seb's under-his-breath comments and jokes about what is happening right at the moment. The German has excellent timing and good puns and one-liners. Those two seem like besties, Lewis being the "serious" of the pair; go figure!

The open mic section starts and the FIA guy offers the microphone around. Lewis instantly and discreetly crosses an arm over Seb's hands, and Vettel raises his eyebrows. —Freedom of speech, much? —Sebastian jokes. 

—What are you going to ask? Seriously? —Lewis tells him.

—I have a genuine question!

—Why I don't believe you.

—Like why? You don't trust me?

—Oh, I do, but...

—But then... let me grab the mic.

Lewis lets out a sigh. Seb raises a hand, now free from Lewis's grip. And the microphone goes to him.

—Check, check —The entire room pays him attention. —Ahm, I have a question for you all.

—Yes, please, go ahead —The poor FIA guy looks overly excited that someone cares enough to say something. Most of them, not to say all of them, look forced to be there, bored, and by that point, so done with this meeting.

—Gentlemen, a short view back to the past. Thirty years ago, Niki... —The more he talks, the louder everyone laughs. Michael loses it. Sebastian recites the whole thing by heart.

What an icon.

The FIA guy couldn't look more confused.

You hear Toto's laugh for the first time; he has been sitting there quietly this entire time. You briefly and occasionally feel his gaze set on you, but you don't dare to turn, look, or talk to him. You know very well that any moment of weakness from you means your doom. Back to Toto's laugh. What is that heaven-sent sound? You want more. How can you get more? Can someone get addicted to a sound?

—Blimey, I knew it! —Lewis lets out, shaking his head and also smiling.

With that question, it is clear the meeting has ended.

As everyone is getting on their feet, you feel Toto purposely caressing his arm against yours as he gets on his feet and then walks to the exit without looking back at you. Your eyes follow him around till you lose sight. Sweet baby Jesus, those toned arms.

-

Race day arrives. 

The Sahkir circuit is a whole party, and the atmosphere is to the roof. All drivers get in position after the entourages move quickly out of the way. The chaos on the track dissipates within seconds. 

Then, after the formation lap, the red lights turn off, and the violent roars from the engines fill your ears. Oh, what a sound, now you are addicted to it.

After a great start from your team and almost two hours later, Lewis and Millie face down in a back-to-back battle. Switching positions 3 times in the final ten laps. It is a monumental effort from the drivers, teams, and their strategies. Emotions are on edge at the pitlane and at the benches.

Millie crosses the line first, less than half a second ahead, and fireworks go up in the air. Fans roar, and you all go nuts! Your crew runs to the pit wall fence, climbing it up and waving as she passes by, lots of fist pumps onto the air. It's your first podium! Your? Like you did something, lol. Your team gets their first podium!! - better - it is a great start. And for the first time in forever, you feel alive and cheerful.

Amidst hugs and pats on the back from crew members and supporters, you make your way to the podium area, following Michael. He is dragging you along; you are in a blur with all that adrenaline rushing through your veins, the noise, the lights, and the crowds.

During the podium ceremony, when the Croatian anthem plays - you are now surrounded by all three teams' entourages, all watching the ceremony together and supporting their driver - you notice Millie getting emotional. It is a first for her, too. And when it finishes, everyone around you starts cheering and clapping like maniacs for her as she raises and kisses the trophy. 

Michael, right next to your side, takes off his white W cap before Millie, and she gestures a praying sign with her hands from high above the podium to thank him and thank you. You blow her a kiss just before rivers of champagne fill the place.

Millie is the sweetest. You felt a genuine connection from the first moment you met her - a couple of months ago at the new Williams headquarters - before she agreed to sign the deal. She trusts you, and you believe in her. So you are on this journey together and feel so happy for her.

You get so distracted by these thoughts and others, too, that you don't notice the place started to empty. When you return to reality, you turn around to leave, following Michael's steps, and almost crash into someone walking in the opposite direction. You are left facing a very nice-looking chest - mere inches away from your face - wearing a white Mercedes shirt. You raise your gaze from those fine pecs that belong to Toto and look at his handsome face.

—Hi... —He says, looking down at you, he is way taller than you.

—H-h...i —You feel weak on the knees.

—I-I..

—I... I'm.

You both say at the same time. You step to the left, and Toto steps to the left synchronously. 

—Sor..ry-y.

—So-rry.

You both keep talking over each other. So Toto moves aside, gesturing with his hand to let you go through first.

—Nice meeting you —you say calmly and quickly rush away.

—Same —he replies, following you with his gaze and watching you walk away. You feel he wants to say more, and you do, too, but it is better this way.

"What the fuck was that. Why on earth were you so nervous, girl? It was like you forgot how to speak!" You think.

"The fumes in the garage are starting to affect me," Toto thinks. "Is she running away from me? Yeah... The fumes are definitely affecting me. Damn, she walks fast."

-

Australia

Thanks to poor scheduling and the worst jet traffic, Michael and you aren't able to land on time. All tracks are being used at the moment, so you get sent to another terminal further away from the circuit. Qualy for the Australian GP is about to start, and obviously, you two are running late.

A Lamborghini Sian car is already waiting for you when you land. So you ask the chauffeur to toss the car keys to Michael. —We have like ten minutes to be there —you tell Schumi.

—Understood, boss.

You instantly regret phrasing it like that. Schumi is driving like a madman while getting directions from the chauffeur in the backseat. Michael pushes the engine to the limit, and the car goes full speed. You feel your body melting with the car seat as you hang for your dear life to the seatbelt. Ten minutes was a say, you didn't truly mean it, let's try another one: To get there alive if possible, this one you meant it.

Michael enters the staff parking lot at the Melbourne circuit by taking an extreme corner still at full force. The two security guys sprint to open the gates; it is that or get run over. 

Once you get in, you see him letting the wheel go a second, and the car starts spinning around - it twirls at an alarming speed. "Am I going to get projected out of this window?" you think. And in just one wild movement, he parallels parks, tires burning. The Fast and Furious stunts were a kid's play next to his. Everyone stares at the scene, astounded.

—9.48.00 minutes, boss —Schumi says. Turning off the engine while checking his Rolex Daytona.

He was insane for this.

—Well, I hope you are as fast on your feet as you were on this car —You joke, grabbing your purse and access badge while getting out of the vehicle, heels hitting the ground like nothing had happened. Because, above everything, you are a bad bitch.

—Are you? —he dares you. Walking past the front of the car, catching your step.

—Haven't you seen my legs?! —You joke. Toned they are.

—You make the 100-meter dash athletes jealous —He jokes back. 

You are going to get so many fines. So many.

-

You two make it to the W garage on time. You "fashion walk" there, according to the people who mock you. Since you don't feel like blending in with the mechanics - and because of your outfits and looks. The Williams garage is located dead last on the pitlane, so you have to walk in front of all other teams' garages to get there every time - expensive bag-swinging in the air, designer heels clacking on the floor, always wearing a chic something; dresses, shorts, skirts - as if they don't enjoy it! Of course, you expected toxic masculinity and sexism on your way, especially since your team is dominating! But not this early on.

—You are late! —Millie jumps at you.

—Let's not talk about it. I'm going to need therapy, thanks to that experience.

—What?! —She looks at you with a funny face.

—Nevermind. All ready?

—Do I look like ready? —She says, gesturing at herself. She is wearing an oversized lilac tee - at least twice her size - and a white tennis mini-skirt with matching white Jordans. 

She follows you to the dressing rooms right across from your remote office, where you quickly leave your purse and stuff inside. As you two get there, Millie tells you how excited she is that Sanrio offered to design her helmet for Suzuka before going to change.

—What do you think? Is it too much? —she asks you. Inviting you into her custom dressing room and pointing around. It looks like Minisio had puked that room out.

—Is very you! —you answer.

—I know, right!!! —she gives you a big dumb smile.

—Are your boobs out? —Mick asks while entering through her dressing room doors - eyes closed, arms extended in front, walking mummy-like - not seeing you there, obviously.

—What?! No! —Millie answers as Loretta (her trainer slash assistant) finishes suiting her up.

—Great! I can open my eyes then! —he says.

—I don't think there's much to see, Mick —Millie jokes while putting on a sad face and looking down at her chest. —Two lemons, barely.

—I don't think Marc from statistics thinks the same. I saw him trying to find them —He jokes. Mick gains a smack on the arm.

Millie's popularity has skyrocketed; she is already a paddock favorite. By this point, she had already rejected three engineers who asked her out - not because of ego, being rude, or wanting to break hearts - but because she is so clueless and a shy dork with zero social skills, in her own words: "I communicate better with cars and engines than with people, at least I know how to work them."

—Kids, kids! —you say, amused at the scene.

—Oh, hi, boss! I didn't notice you there —Mick looks at you, a bit embarrassed.

—No worries —You are glad those two are getting along well.

Mick drops himself on the fluffy pink oval puff in one of the corners. One leg up.

—Why are you here on my land? —Millie asks.

—Oh yeah. I came to say something —Mick adds like he is just remembering. —Yes! My father is waiting for you two to start the team's meeting. Everyone is there already. It's urgent. So hurry.

—Oh god, and you just let us know now.

The three of you get on your feet real fast.

-

After a good team catch-up and an impeccable motivational speech from Michael, all of you get to your positions inspired and ready to give it all.

As the Qualy starts, you turn to Michael. —You are a great leader, you know? We are lucky to have you —you tell him.

—I'm glad to be here, more than you imagine, boss.

-

Millie secures a pole position. Sparks flyed. Damn, that car was fast, and she, she was faster!

-

When the workday is done, you wait for Sam across from Merc's hospitality. It's getting dark.

You are sitting on a bench a few meters away, next to a tree with beautiful yellow flowers, looking at your phone and minding your business, avoiding looking like a threat near competitors' territory.

—Waiting for Sam? —Toto asks you from the other side - at the bottom of the stairs of their main cafeteria entrance - you raise your gaze at the sound of his voice.

—Yes! Hi! Will she be taking long? —You can't avoid smiling at him and sound slightly nervous.

—No, she is on her way, but I must warn you, she's been insufferable the entire day. She had one of those, what she calls it? A bad ha...

—A bad hair day —you both finish in unison. —Yikes! How bad it was? The hair? I mean.

—Oh, terrible! I had to look at it all day —he answers jokingly, putting an ew face. Toto walks towards you and sits on the bench by your side, stretching his legs and resting one on top of the other.

The truth is, Samanta doesn't have naturally straight locks; she has long, curly hair she straightens. And sometimes, some days, some weather gave her that wavy, frizzy, wild, non-combable hair.

—You are such an inspiration, a true survivor. Tell me all about your journey —You make him laugh, you love that. More, please.

The door interrupts you two as you both smile at each other like dumbs and lock eyes. Sam goes out, black Merc hoodie on, covering almost her entire face, overdramatic as usual.

—Rocking the Palpatine? —you tease her.

—Hilarious. Bad hair day. I look like Monica Geller on that trip to the beach beneath this —she says with sarcasm. Toto laughs. —Ah, now that reference you get —Sam rolls her eyes.

—Jezz, that mood, huh? A few drinks will get you through these dark times, my friend. Let's go! —you add.

—Oh no, I'm not going.

—What?! Why?! Why are you like this, Samanta?!

—No, why is humidity a thing? Who needs it?

—Aem, all of Australia's wildlife? —Toto adds.

—Shut up, smarty pants —Sam lets out.

—You look like Hagrid —he replies.

—Torger, don't test me, I swear —she warns him, fingers rubbing her forehead.

—So, when will you be available then? —you ask her, cutting off the bickering.

Sam opens her weather app to check the humidity levels. —Ahm, like next week? Not in Australia?

—Are you serious, dude?! I already booked! —You two were going to that Michelin star blindfolded dining and drinking experience. It was so on trend that booking a table there was Melbourne's most challenging and expensive thing at the moment.

—Sorry, I'm not going out looking like this! But for sure Toto could join you! He desperately needs to get some of that stress out of his system. He's getting meaner.

—What!? Me, the meaner one? —Toto lets out.

—What?! Sam! No, no. He is probably busy, and I don't want to bo... —you add, quickly, getting nervous while trying not to show it.

She interrupts you.

—Busy?! No, he is just in an antisocial mood swing. Toto barely left his office today! All grumpy, he was inside there. Besides, didn't you, my guy, tell me you were going straight to your hotel to lock yourself and binge-watch Love Island while eating ice cream straight from the bucket? —Sam teases him, well aware Toto is feeling low - more like heartbroken - Sam hates Sussie, but of course, she will never admit it publicly, and definitely not to him. This is her weird way of showing him her support by setting him up to go out and have fun with a great person instead of being miserable and all alone. Classic Sam.

—What? No. What's Love Island? I wasn't being antisocial; I had a ton of work today, unlike you —He answers deadpan. 

—Do you even own a TV? —Sam is seriously curious.

—Of course, I do! Several, in fact —It doesn't mean he watches them.

—You must be rich! —you joke. He smiles.

—Yeah, whatever. Come on! Get to know each other! Have a good time on me and my hair's behalf —Sam grabs you both, each by the arm, and walks you towards the exit.

—Is it me, or is she getting worse with age? —You address Toto.

—No question!

—Hey! You can't trash-talk me! —Sam complains.

—Oh, that's all we will be doing; we are going to talk so much trash about you, piles of it, that the garbage collector will plead to us no more —you mock her.

—I'm hating this already! —Sam crosses her arms.

Well, now you have a date with Toto. A date, yeah, in your dreams.

To be continued... - Masterlist | Next Chapter

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

hi! i saw the soaring’s tour post (love the name btw it’s soo cute!) and i figured i’d book a trip💕✨

my travel companion is wolffe (i love this man so much😭)

our luggage is slice of life/family and romance

we were thinking of going to tatooine and yavin 4

i’m the wolffepack’s medic. i’m the sunshine to his grumpy storm cloud, but he’s always had a soft spot for me. we’ve been together for a while now, and i think he’s gonna pop the big question during this trip, if you know what i mean *wink wink*

that’s all i got to tell you! i can’t wait for this trip, but absolutely no rush though!! thank you so much for helping to plan this trip! have a wonderful day/night!!!

Thank you for booking with Soaring's Tours. We're now ready to board your flight. Please mind the gap between the transport and the platform. We wish you a pleasant journey!

Part of the Pack

Amidst the chaos of the war, you've found solace and love in the arms of your grouchy Commander. As you steal a moment away from the battlefield, the future becomes all that more exciting.

Pairing: Wolffe x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, sweetness, grumpy and sunshine.

Translations: meshurok - gemstone

The sound of your heels clicking echoed down the hallway of the ship, and every trooper you passed gave a slight dip of their head in greeting. You returned it with a smile, hands smoothing down the front of your dress.

Two years you’d served as a medic for the Wolfpack - two years of patching them up after they charged headfirst into chaos. Two years of being madly in love with their grouchy Commander, too. You wouldn’t trade it for the galaxy.

Although outwardly calm, your mind raced. This morning, your comm had beeped with a message from Wolffe, asking you to meet him in the hangar – with the stipulation that you wear something nice instead of your usual gear.

As you approached the hangar entrance, your heart quickened with excitement and apprehension. The hum of activity intensified, with mechanics scurrying around and ships being prepped for departure. Amidst the organised chaos, you could easily spot Wolffe standing near the edge of the hangar, his back turned towards you. Gone was his armour and blacks; instead, he was dressed in civilian clothing – black pants that hugged in all the right places and a grey button-down with the sleeves rolled up. His presence still exuded authority and confidence, yet there was a subtle tension in his posture that you’d learned to recognise. He wasn’t happy about something.

Approaching, you stopped at his side, biting the inside of your lip to suppress your smile as you came face to face with the source of his ire.

A droid.

But not just any droid.

That blasted protocol droid that had joined you all on Aleen.

As the droid prattled on, you could sense Wolffe’s frustration rising. His posture was rigid, shoulders back, lips pressed flat. While it would’ve been fun to remain silent and watch him become increasingly annoyed, you figured it was time to end his suffering. “I’m so sorry to interrupt, but I need the Commander.” You interjected, offering the droid an apologetic smile.

Wolffe finally glanced at you, hand flexing at his side as he tampered down the desire to reach for you. “No need to apologise.” He answered, gaze shifting to you. “We were just finishing up here.” With a curt nod to the droid, he gestured for you to follow him as he strode away towards a small ship docked nearby.

Together, you entered the ship, and once the ramp was closed, you found yourself pulled into his arms. While your relationship was no secret among the pack, it wouldn’t do for prying eyes to spot you.

“You look good enough to eat, meshurok.” Wolffe complimented, his voice low and warm. While the droid had raised his ire, one look at you had swept it all away. “I hope you’re ready for a little adventure today.”

Your heart fluttered, and you nodded eagerly, excitement bubbling within you. Whatever Wolffe had planned, you knew it would be unforgettable, just like every moment you’d spent by his side. “Do I get a clue?” You teased, smiling up at him as you smoothed your hands across his chest, enjoying the softness of his shirt and the firm muscle beneath.

Wolffe grumbled under his breath. You were always teasing, using your pretty smile to make him melt. But not today. Today was too important. “No clues.” He muttered, but there was a hint of amusement in his tone. Leading you into the cockpit, he settled you into the copilot’s seat before taking the helm.

As the ship hummed into life around you, you couldn’t help but steal glances at him, admiring how his jaw tightened in concentration, yet his eyes softened whenever they met yours. Despite his tough exterior, a tenderness was hidden underneath, a gentleness reserved only for those he cared about. His grumpiness might have been legendary, but so was his unwavering loyalty and fierce protectiveness towards the pack and you.

As the ship lifted off smoothly and soared into the endless expanse of space, he made the jump to hyperspace. “I wanted to steal you away for a moment,” Wolffe admitted, his gaze fixed on the star-studded vista beyond the view-port before he glanced your way.

“You’re taking me on a date.” You stated, unable to stop your wide smile from appearing again. It wasn’t often the two of you had time away from the war effort, and you could count the number of actual dates you’d been on on one hand. Most of the time, you made do with stolen moments between missions - the quiet brush of hands in silent hallways, passionate kisses in empty med-bays, and stolen hours tangled in sheets when no one would disturb you.

Wolffe’s lips twitched into a faint smile at your deduction. “Something like that.” He replied cryptically as his fingers tapped against the controls.

Curiosity curled through you. Wolffe had always been an enigma, but he’d never kept you in the dark. He’d taken to you surprisingly quickly, growing more comfortable around you until one night, when you’d swung by his makeshift office to check on him, you’d ended up pinned against the crates that had been turned into a desk, the firm planes of his body pressed against you as he’d kissed you wildly.

By the morning, he’d made you his, complete with his tags around your neck.

As the ship finally dropped out of hyperspace, you found yourself gazing upon a breathtaking vista - the planet below bathed in the soft glow of its sun, its surface a patchwork of vibrant colours and swirling clouds.

Wolffe glanced over at you as a hint of a smile tugged at the corner of his lips, taking in your awestruck expression. “Beautiful, isn’t it?” He remarked softly. “But not nearly as beautiful as you.” He tacked on.

Pulling your gaze from the view, you offered the man by your side an amused smile, feeling warmth in your cheeks. “Sap.” You teased, still not used to the compliments after all this time.

“Don’t go telling anyone.” He grumbled though mirth danced across his face.

The sun started setting as you leaned back against Wolffe’s chest. He’d set the ship down atop a small hill, and upon exiting you’d been surprised to find a blanket already laid out, along with a basket of food. He’d neither confirmed nor denied that he’d sent Sinker and Boost out earlier to set it up.

The two of you had spent some time catching up, enjoying the food and each other’s company. Without eyes on you, you were free to share as many kisses and touches as you liked. Wolffe had finally propped himself up against a nearby rock, drawing you to sit between his legs, wrapping his arms around you as his chin came to rest on your shoulder.

The sky above painted a breathtaking palette of oranges, pinks, and purples as the sun dipped lower on the horizon, casting a warm glow over the landscape. The gentle breeze tousled your hair as you leaned into Wolffe’s embrace, feeling the steady rhythm of his heartbeat against your back.

“I could stay like this forever.” You murmured, your voice barely above a whisper as you watched the colours of the sky blend and shift with the approaching twilight.

“Me too.” Wolffe pressed a soft kiss to the top of your head, his arms tightening around you in a silent promise of protection and comfort. “You’re my anchor.” He confessed quietly, a tenderness reserved solely for you in his voice. “In this chaotic galaxy, you’re the constant I can always rely on.”

Warmth spread through your chest at his words, and you turned your head to meet his gaze, finding a depth of emotion reflected in his eyes that took your breath away. “And you’re mine.” You whispered, reaching up to draw your finger down his cheek, across the scar from the close call that had nearly taken him from you. “No matter what, I can always count on you to be there for me.”

Wolffe’s expression softened even further at your words, his rough exterior giving way to a vulnerability he only showed you. “I may not always say it, but I love you.” He confessed, his voice barely above a murmur as he pressed his forehead against yours. “More than anything in this galaxy.”

Tears pricked at the corners of your eyes as you leaned into his touch, overwhelmed by the depth of emotion between you. “I love you too.” You whispered, your voice trembling with emotion. “More than words can express.”

With the confession hanging in the air like a delicate promise, Wolffe’s heart pounded in his chest, nerves fluttering like a thousand tiny butterflies as he watched you turn your focus back to the sunset. He knew what he wanted to say next, but the weight of it pressed down on him. He never thought this moment would come, that he’d get to love someone as bright and beautiful as you. Taking a deep breath, he steadied himself as best he could, unwrapping an arm from around you as he reached into his pants pocket to find the small box he’d kept a secret for weeks now.

“There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.” He stated, his voice slightly hoarse with emotion.

Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but before you could turn around to face him and ask him what was wrong, his arm was back around you, and in his hand, he clutched a small box, open to reveal a delicate ring nestled within.

As you gazed at it, your breath caught in your throat, the metal gleaming softly in the fading light.

“Ner meshurok,” he began, his voice husky with emotion, “I know we’re living in uncertain times, fighting a war that seems to have no end. I can’t promise you a lifetime of peace or stability, but whatever life I have, I want to spend it with you.”

“Wolffe…” You whispered, your voice barely a breath as you looked over your shoulder at him, meeting his gaze. Tears welled up in your eyes as you took in the unexpected nervousness on his handsome face.

Wolffe swallowed thickly, moving his free hand to brush your hair from your face. “Will you marry me?” He asked quietly.

The words hung in the air, a silent plea for your answer. But before you could respond, you twisted in his lap, throwing your arms around him, burying your face in the crook of his neck as tears of joy streamed down your cheeks.

“Yes.” You whispered, your voice choked with emotion. “Yes, a thousand times yes.”

As Wolffe held you tightly in his arms, relief flooded him at your answer. He buried his face in your hair for a moment, breathing in your scent, before you both pulled back slightly to look into each other’s eyes. Carefully, he slid the ring onto your finger, his touch gentle yet sure. As the metal settled against your skin, a sense of completeness washed over you, like puzzle pieces finally falling into place.

You couldn’t help but marvel at how it caught the fading light. The moment felt surreal as if you were suspended in time, cocooned in the warmth of Wolffe’s embrace and the promise of a future together.

“There, all official.” A rare grin crossed his lips. “Guess I’m stuck with you now.” He grumbled good-naturedly, lifting his hand to wipe away the tears that had rolled down your cheeks.

You couldn’t help but laugh, the sound bubbling up from deep within you as you leaned in to press a kiss against his lips. “You wouldn’t have it any other way, Commander.” You teased, your heart overflowing with love for the man who had become your everything.

Tag list: @clonethirstingisreal @starrylothcat @cw80831 @dreamie411 @issa-me-bry-blog @leftealeaf @isaidonyourknees @padawancat97 @dangraccoon @jedi-hawkins @sverdgeir

Sign up to be tagged in my future fics.

[waterlilyspad]

wolffe appreciation post

based on this drawing I made last year 🥺✨️

yes they evolved up an evolution, just a couple of good boys 🥺❤️✨️

[arctrooper69]

Don't Miss Me

Part of the "If I Don't Make it Back Alive" letter series. Commander Wolffe (reluctantly) writes his lover from the front lines.

Warnings: Mentions of war and death? Typical canon stuff.

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

Cyar'ika,

I feel ridiculous writing this letter when I'd rather just say it straight to your face. At least then I could kiss you. Unfortunately duty calls, finding me without you.

There are rumors that this war is almost over but I'm gonna be honest, Cyare, it's been a rough couple of weeks. The damn clankers keep on coming and we keep on fighting. The weather's been shit here too - rain, rain, and more rain. Turns the ground into mud that'll suck your boots off if you're not careful. That happened to Sinker yesterday. It was honestly the funniest thing that's happened in awhile. Well, it was funny until the idiot decided to drag half the squad down with him. Now I've got mud in places that don't even see the light of day. But enough with the complaining already. I'm probably boring you to tears.

You always say that I frown too much, but lately when I'm lying awake in my bunk at night in the dark, I think of you and it makes me smile a little. You always did bring out the best in me. (Just please don't ever tell the boys that I smile. I'd never live it down.)

I guess I'm really just writing to say that I love you, cyar'ika. I want you to know that I'm still alive and kicking and that I'm doing my damnedest to get back into your arms again. Hell, you know I'd fight all the clankers in the whole kriffing galaxy if it got me back to you any faster.

Now I know you don't want to hear this, cyar'ika, but I just need to say it. If something happens to me - if I don't make it back to you - I want you to move on. I know I'm the luckiest clone in the whole damn GAR because I have you. But I am just a clone. You deserve so much better and if I don't make it out of this war, promise me that you won't shut yourself away. You're too smart for that. How I ever ended up with a girl as smart and as beautiful as you I'll never know, but I thank my lucky stars every day for it. I love you, cyar'ika. See you soon.

Wolffe

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

@zoeykallus @ttzamara @nahoney22 @merkitty49 @viva-la-whump @agenteliix @dumpsters-little-matchbook @nekotaetae @ladykatakuri @loverofclones @heyitsaloy @padawancat97 @jambolska-grozdova @flyingkangaroo @melymigo @rain-on-kamino @jiabeewrites @my-own-oracle

If you want to be on my taglist, feel free to send me a message! Also, asks are open! Reblogging is very much encouraged and it makes me do a happy dance every time any of my writing gets reblogged 😂❤️

[cloneloverrrrr]

Hello everyone! It’s finally here Chapter 9 Part 2. I’m soooo sorry it took months longer than expected but I’m sooo excited & hope you all enjoy 🫶🏻 This chapter is kinda dark and there may be some trigger warnings so please DO NOT read if any bother you.

Big thanks to my amazing girls @hellhound5925 and @lune-de-miel-au-paradis for their help on this 🩷🩷& again @hellhound5925 for letting me use her BOUJEE BAD B character Raven 🤩🤩

Dividers by the best always @idontgetanysleep 🥰

𝗦𝗼𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗜𝘃𝗲 𝗡𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗛𝗮𝗱 ⠀

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟵 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮

𝗥𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:🔞 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗶��𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁

𝗣𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳𝗳𝗲 𝘅 𝗙𝗲𝗺!𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿, 𝗿𝗲𝗮𝗱𝗲𝗿 𝗶𝗻𝘀𝗲𝗿𝘁, 𝗖𝗼𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗻𝗱𝗲𝗱 𝗙𝗼𝘅, 𝗢𝗖 𝗙𝗶𝗻𝗻, 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗳 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗢𝗖 𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗺𝗲 𝗳𝗮𝗺𝗶𝗹𝘆 , 𝗯𝗿𝗶𝗲𝗳 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗪𝗼𝗹𝗳 𝗣𝗮𝗰𝗸, 𝟱𝟬𝟭𝘀𝘁, 𝗥𝗲𝘅, 𝗔𝗿𝗳 𝗧𝗿𝗼𝗼𝗽𝗲𝗿 𝗛𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙣𝙚𝙬 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙍𝙖𝙫𝙚𝙣 𝙖𝙣𝙙 𝘾𝙡𝙤𝙣𝙚 𝘾𝙤𝙢𝙢𝙖𝙣𝙙𝙤𝙨

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 3540

𝗪𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: 𝗣𝗟𝗘𝗔𝗦𝗘 𝗗𝗡𝗜 𝗶𝗳 𝗮𝗻𝘆 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗵𝗲 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁𝗲𝗱 𝗯𝗼𝘁𝗵𝗲𝗿 𝘆𝗼𝘂- 𝗢𝗖 𝗶𝘀 𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗴𝗻𝗮𝗻𝘁, 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝗵𝗼𝘀𝘁𝗮𝗴𝗲, 𝘀𝗹𝗶𝗴𝗵𝘁 𝗺𝗲𝗻𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻𝘀 𝗼𝗳 𝘁𝗼𝗿𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗻𝗼𝘁 𝗳𝘂𝗹𝗹𝘆 𝗱𝗲𝘀𝗰𝗿𝗶𝗽𝘁𝗶𝘃𝗲, 𝙢𝙚𝙣𝙩𝙞𝙤𝙣𝙨 𝙤𝙛 𝙖𝙨𝙨𝙪𝙡𝙩 , 𝘃𝗶𝗼𝗹𝗲𝗻𝗰𝗲, 𝘀𝗹𝗼𝘄 𝗯𝘂𝗿𝗻, 𝗮𝗻𝗴𝘀𝘁 , 𝗮𝗻𝘅𝗶𝗲𝘁𝘆, 𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗻

The sun goes down and the light has betrayed you. The compact room you had been thrown in was bleak, icy and almost completely dark. The only illumination came from the energy binders secured around your wrists. The chill danced across your body as darkness engulfed you- it was not merely the darkness that came out of absence of light. No it was much more sinister.

The continuous rolling your shoulders to try and relieve some of the stiffness from your body grew tiresome. If the cold bite of the permacrete floor beneath your knees is any indication of the treatment of the men who captured you then you only hoped for an end. Another moment felt like another eternity. Yet of course you longed for Wolffe to hold you, to save you- to be completely safe in his embrace, but there was no arms just chains to hold you.

It hurts physically and mentally. Your heart feels like it’s about to burst into fire. Your mind racing with the same question over and over. Is this my end.

Unsure if this is reality or some fucked up dream.

It had been 3 days. Three long, tiring and completely wasted days, to no avail any step closer to finding the only thing he cares about. The image of you wavers so bold in his mind but the guilt is slowly overtaking him, the pain he is carrying weighs heavy on his shoulders, the utter agony and weakness he feels would be enough to decommission him if the Kaminons still had control.

Weak, he is fucking weak and he knows it.

He had seen his world change and tomorrow may fall but today has already gone.

The night air was crisp, like shards of ice in Wolffe’s lungs. His skin was pulled taught beneath his eyes, completely sleep deprived, weary muscles ache as a low dull thump lays into the base of his skull.

His two fingers pinch the bridge of his nose hoping to relieve the tension that continues to build up behind his eyes, the clenching pain bubbling away through out his body only exacerbates the prickling feeling of guilt that torment his soul.

“Copy that brother.”

The beep of Fox’s commlink snaps Wolffe briefly back to reality.

Fox clears his throat quietly before placing a caring hand across Wolffe’s broad shoulder.

“Ner vod, I’m sorry but Hound and his team have lost track of her. The massiff’s can’t seem to pick the scent back up…”

Wolffe rubs his temple sucking in a deep sigh. A single tear rolls down his cheek splashing against his scratched armor.

“Fuck” he curses under his breath pained.

“Rex and his team have joined forces with Boost, Sinker and Comet from what I’ve been made aware they are currently in the lower levels.”

“We will find her brother.” The hoarseness in his voice apparent, determined to find you. The close bond you and Fox shared was evident to Wolffe.

The caf had gone cold still Wolffe continued to sup away, the now bland and unsatisfying taste began to vex him, his mind was racing with thought after thought- but he couldn’t pervade his head with such a dark concept, it was becoming a struggle to stay favourable.

“Fighting and war was all we had been bred for Fox…at least that’s how I truly felt until her….finally I had found something I never had”

“Never dreamed I could have and it’s slipping through my fingers” The perturb was visible, deep in Wolffe’s eyes.

“SHE is slipping through my fingers” his last sentence began to crack and waiver.

The agony presented itself as clear as day nothing like his usual cocksure but cold manner.

Stiffness clouded the air, a quiet soreness that silenced the room- only the light raggedy breathing of the Commanders could be heard.

The moonless night was dark, enveloping the planet below casting a mysterious shadow across everything in its path. Yet scattered stars that danced across the vast expanse of sky began to illuminate the upper levels of Coruscant with their gentle glow. A glimmer of hope that this nightmare could soon be over.

The velvety coal canvas seems to stretch almost endlessly and in this moment as the moon hides it face, the sharp shrill of commlinks and the loud clunk of the boots from the battle hard clones drowns out any other sounds from the citizens wandering the lower levels of this bustling metropolis.

“Two lifeforms have been following us for the last 25 minutes brother..” Tup quietly nudges Fives.

“Well spotted Tup, comm the Captain. Now!”

Fives stops and turns his sight to the men leaning ever so cocky against the building of a brightly lit Neon bar across the way. The larger of the two holding a small vibroblade scraping his finger up and down the sharpness of the object before dropping his head only so slightly - a spine chilling smile splashed across his face as he lets out a chuckle.

“Captain Rex- the two unfriendlies less than 10 feet behind Fives and I have been on our tails for well over 30 minutes” Tup calmly speaks into his comm.

Jesse and Rex stop almost instantly in their tracks with the Wolfpack up ahead turning around and following suit joining the rest of their brothers.

The commanding officer of the 501st removes his helmet,whilst the other hand grazes across his DC-15A blaster - the stern look on his face directed at the nat-borns only mere few feet away.

“We clocked them too sir” Sinker says as he takes his place next to Rex.

“Call it in to Commander Wolffe and Commander Fox they must be informed”

Rex prompts Sinker unfazed as the two men begin to make their way over to the group of soldiers.

“Squadron stay alert.” Rex warns over the comms.

He turns nodding at Sinker as the Nat-borns move in closer like a Gundark stalking its prey. The larger of the two stopped and stood afore Rex. Sizing him up.

Silence. One with a life of its own.

With a scoff, the elevated man turns to the other before rotating his attention back to the Captain.

“That freak with the scar not here eh? Can’t even make the effort to come for his stuck up bitch?”

Each of the clones clench their firsts at their sides, the ire plastered rather blatantly in their stance. The air so thick with tension. Tension like a dark black smoke from each of the burning fires that were Clone Troopers.

Boost grasps tightly at Comet’s wrist as he pushes his way forward- a firm way of explaining to his brother the time is not right.

Rex’s brows furrow for a second or two. The acute eye contact between himself and lofty man only intensifies the uncertainty of the current situation.

“The boss… he wants a holo meet with that freak”

“This evening 23.00 hours, here are the details …. Clone”

The word spit as if they weren’t even real men. As if they would never measure up. The contemptuous in tone only angers and each trooper further.

“Does your boss have a name?” Rex grits out between a clenched jaw.

Of course the battle hardened leader of the 501st keeps a cool yet calming aura.

“Finn.”

The name reverberated off the walls of the alley crawling over his skin. Rex puffed his chest out further to suppress a shiver. He of course would stand his ground until the men walked away. It’s what any leader, it’s what your lover Wolffe would do.

A small shit eating grin creeps the corner of his mouth. The two men turn to leave not before the few words that leaver Sinker’s mouth has his skin producing goosebumps.

“His name is Commander Wolffe”

“And he will end you and your fucking boss- you would do well to remember that.”

The nat-born stops in his tracks, the tension now almost palpable.

Another scoff.

“Yeah alright clone…”

The long and drawn out silence broken only by the thunder roaring furiously as the superiorly thick smoky clouds rolled in like boulders- ready to crush anything that stands in their way. Flashing lightning electrifies the dark skies and without warning the rain-fall came gushing down throwing its self onto the cold ground below.

The walls of room seemed to be closing in on Wolffe. He was that one step closer to finding you, that much was certain- yet those cruel thoughts still plagued his mind.

Back in Fox’s office tensions run extremely high. Wolffe tuned out the chatter from his brother and the unknown female voice on the comms. The burning desire running through his blood to find you grows with each second. The dull roar filling his ears.

Yet he continues to scan his datapad over and over, not noticing the hiss of the doors sliding open as Rex enters the room closely followed by the Wolfpack.

Rex pats his brothers shoulder softly before removing his helmet- a gentle gesture.

Wolffe finally lifts his head, behind his eyes pain and a deep sadness lingers. He lets out a long sigh grabbing the bridge of his nose anything to ease that discomfort he feels hacking away at his mind body and soul.

“Commander it seems the person who is holding Crystal is called Finn… from what we know he must be part of some crime family. He wants a holomeet… 23.00hrs this evening”

“Thank you Rex”

“Brothers there is someone I’d like you all to meet..”

Before Fox can finish his sentence the doors to his office slide open revealing a female Mandalorian. Her long blonde hair falls in a neat plait over one shoulder. Wolffe’s eyes fall to the helmet tucked neatly under one arm. She offers a curt nod, looking over the troopers standing before her.

“It’s nice to finally meet you all. I’m sorry it has to be under such circumstances. I’m Raven Skirata.”

A silence falls over the group. Raven Skirata. She spent most of her time training Clone Commandos on Kamino. A glimmer of hope beams throughout Wolffe.

“I’ve got operatives running classified missions here in Coruscant. One of them has been chasing a crime syndicate, collecting data on their whereabouts. I’ve come to learn through Commander Fox you are in need of help tracking someone down who you believe has been taken by one of the syndicates members. Is this correct?”

“That’s correct” Wolffe’s words were quiet.

“We had been informed by two males their boss- Finn he wants a holomeet arranged for this evening. We are 99% sure he has Crystal.”

Raven pushes her neat blonde plait behind her back , the Skirata Wolf that sits on her left shoulder pauldron gleams against the dim lights that flicker in the office. A look of trepidation is shared between herself and Fox.

“Finn Salazar - His family was killed during the war - unfortunate collateral, and ever since then has blamed the GAR and the Clones.”

That long silence is back.

“However his family had links to the Pykes so we can only assume he has taken it upon himself to carry on their work- prostitution and narcotics seem to be his thing. Thats all I’m allowed to say on him but we do have a possible location.”

The pitter-patter of the rain thrumming against the window of Fox’s office breaks that silence.

“Wolffe…. It’s almost 23.00 hours… the meet”

Fox reminds his brother nodding at the holoprojector on his desk. Raven, Rex, Fox and the Wolfpack took a few feet back allowing Wolffe the space they know he will need.

Wolffe lets out a small grunt before nodding.

Anger and vexation burned inside of Wolffe’s chest, his dense hold of the desk grew stronger as his brows furrowed. The blue light from the hologram shone against his face, His cybernetic eye glistened - emphasising the rage splashed across his features.

“Tut tut, I do not usually appreciate tardiness Commander…”

“However seeing as I have something belonging to you this once I will allow it.”

The sick pleasure in Finn’s voice only added to the growing frustration bubbling away inside the Commander.

He was going to fucking kill him. And by the maker he would cause this syndicate boss untold agony.. pain this fucker had never once felt in his pathetic life.

“Where is she?” Wolffe hisses.

Wolffe’s jaw started to tick, his foot tapping relentlessly.

“Oh don’t you worry Commander Wolffe she is being well cared for, isn’t that right darling?

Finn’s tone was vindictive and cold. It trickled through your veins like rusty daggers.

Suddenly the view had been shifted around to you. For what seems like an eternity your gaze flickers up to Wolffe. Like every star system in the galaxy had come to screeching halt, his eyes search yours. He can see the pain and angst that was so desperately lingering across your face.

“Wolffe….” Your words oh so quiet.

Tears begin to form in the corners of your eyes adding to their already delicate shine.

Your beautiful face he has loved since day one. And stars above did it break his fucking heart.

Yet within a spilt second that heartache was gone replaced by agonising rage that inflamed his whole being.

Finn’s hand slithers up your bare arm towards your neck before his hand started to caress your face in such an unholy manner. His lips placed against your pulse point inhaling your scent.

“She’s a pretty little thing isn’t she Wolffe I do however believe she would look even better with a little less on… don’t you?”

His dark chuckle infuriates not just your lover but every single person stood in Fox’s office.

Finn’s voice seeped its way down your spine causing a shiver as his hand slapped you. Hard and with intent. The sting travels from your face radiating pins and needles throughout your body. Your whimpers do nothing to deter him.

Finn glides his calloused thumb across your full lips snagging your chin in his fingers. The contrast between your softness and his roughness makes you squirm. Your attempt to wriggle away fails as he takes out a razor-sharp vibroblade slicing through one of the straps holding up your silky dress.

A small gasp falls from your lips as you feel the dress slipping down exposing your partially naked chest. The blade scrapes across your collarbone, causing your blood to leak from the cut.

"Even her blood smells sweet. I can see why you are so fond of this one Commander. "

"I bet she would look even sweeter underneath me at my mercy …. and under my blade as I touch her like you do Commander. "

The syndicate boss uttered the rank of Commander so contemptuously, almost spitting it out like some sort of disgusting verb.

His wicked chuckle had Wolffe seething with an incandescent ire. Murder was on his fucking mind.

A harsh thump rings in the room as Wolffe slams both his fists onto the cold metal of the desk in front of him.

“I swear to the fucking maker if you touch her like that again I will kill you”

“But it won’t be fucking quick”

Wolffe bared his teeth and his words roll out like a snarl.

“Shabuir” Raven grunted through a clenched jaw.

Her eyes flit across the room noticing the distress across each of the clones faces. The men she cares for like her own brothers.

Her heart pained for them.

“He won’t get away with this” Fox directed to his brothers.

A stillness falls the room.

Finn glares at Wolffe sadistically , as a vile scowl tugged at the corner of his lips. His eyes as green as poison- a look of malice. This just added to his growing fixation of wanting to gut the bastard from stomach to throat. His blood boiling like the fiery lava that ran free on Mustafar.

Slowly with intent to cause the upmost unbearable affliction.

"What I do not seem to understand is why is her interested in YOU clone? I guess even the pretty ones like her can have these type of fucked up brains wired ever so severely incorrect …. “

“But the question stands- what sould I do about it? Hmm? We must tip the balance of normality back. A beautiful thing like her belongs to a normal being. A real man.”

Finn plays with the blade across your cheek so nonchalantly, yet his eyes fixated on the father of your unborn child.

“It does however seem that she wants you…”

“Maybe once I’ve shown her what it’s like to be with a REAL man and how a REAL man can make her feel she might change her mind”

His dry lips graze against the bob in your throat.

Each and every single hair on the back of your neck stands to attention, the chill almost becoming unbearable . You remained as still as could be- the sinister aura from this man held you in a tightening grip. Slowly you closed your eyes, your stomach churning. You were immobilised. Terror sucked the very breath from your mouth.

Finn turns his attention back to Wolffe as Fox appears next to his Vod. The wrath that painted a picture on his face oh so obvious.

“So I will make you and the rest of the experiments in that room a deal, from now on you and the Coruscant Guard will pay no mind to the Salazar syndicate. You will allow us to continue our work with the Pykes in exchange for your little bitch here.”

Wolffe studies his face before holding Finn’s stare with cold and narrow eyes. He tenses and his jaw clenched in annoyance. The blood that ran through his veins began to burn his tanned skin.

“No deal. Let her go and I will think about allowing you to live.”

Finn’s laugh was baleful. It caused you to recoil in terror. As each moment that passed the thought of being back in the arms of your lover faded more and more.

“My my- that is not the answer I was looking for…maybe this will change your answer”

With one hand Finn yanks your dress further and further down, the cool of the air hits your naked flesh like a thousand blaster bolts. The other hand found its way to your neck tightening his fingers, cutting off your air supply. Your face began to turn into a sickening colour as your sight started to close in on you, the feeling of your life ebbing away. Your mouth falls open, a strangled groan pathetically leaving you. His grip was too strong to wriggle out of.

Finn’s eyes glint in amusement. He meets Wolffes gaze. Neither man backs down.

Fuck. The realisation sets in, shooting him directly in the gut and he stiffens.

“Let her go she’s carrying my child”

Wolffe finally yields. He’s fucking seething.

By and by the solid grip around your neck begins to detach, your body gives way as you crumble to the ground below.

A tear forms in the corner of Rex’s soft eyes, his fists clenched tightly at his sides. Raven stands in front of the Wolfpack. Her stance wide, positioning herself between the clones - who are so much like her brothers - and the threat. Her only way to protect them from the abhorrent scene unfolding in front of their eyes.

Raven looks like an animal ready to pounce. Her hands twitch at her sides as if they ache to be around Finn's throat. She exchanges a quick look with Fox who sharply nods before turning his attention back to the holocall.

“Think about it clone. You have 24 hours.” Finn taunts.

As your face vanished from view Wolffe inhaled a painful breath- the first of many.

Wolffe hadn't noticed but Rex did. Raising a brow at his brother and the Mandalorian.

Once the link closes Rex questions them.

"Want to fill me in?"

Raven nods to Fox to explain.

"We were able to tract the location of the signal. Thanks to Ravens brother - Captain Ordo - for the tech."

“I want them destroyed and I want Crystal safe. Brother I’m sorry but the 501st must ship out to meet Cody and his troops… a slight situation has gotten out of hand”

Wolffe and Rex’s eyes meet before they clap another’s forearm with their gloved hands above their wrists. As the 501st bid adieu to the rest of their brothers and Raven , Wolffe turns around catching a glimpse of his misty reflection of the office- one he fails to recognise.

His features replaced by an almost other-worldly demon that haunts his very soul.

“He will find his own grave” Wolffe spits out as he turns to Fox.

TAG LIST - @n0vqni @trixie2023 @hellhound5925 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @idontgetanysleep @eternal-transcience @clonelovr @reader6898 @the-rain-on-kamino @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade

If you want to be removed or added LMK😃

[bamfahsoka]

Change of Fate: Chapter 1

NO WARNINGS for the chapter!😊👍

The campaign to retake Ringo Vinda from the Seperatists started as any other. The 501st and 104th joined forces in hopes of taking back the planet quickly and begin to establish the planet's government. The strategy was simple yet effective. After detonating a blast at the Seperatists' base, you plan to use the terrain's natural barriers and strategically placed small teams of men, to create a bottleneck effect and force the droid army into such a small area that they had no choice but to line up and walk straight into your men's blaster fire. 

 "Alright teams, check in" you said over your com. 

 "Team 1 in position" Jesse replied 

"Team 2 in position" Fives reported

"Team 3 in position," Hardcase yelled into the com a little too excited for his own good.  

From behind you, you hear Rex telling the other teams that he and your team are in position and ready. 

" Hardcase, how are you looking over there? Are you ready to blow up some clankers?" you called out to Hardcase over the com. 

 "You know it General!!! Charges are set and ready to go, on your mark. " 

You looked back at Rex, and he gave you a silent nod in acknowledgment. You turned around, and with your signature smart mouth you called over the com

 " Let's take down some tinnies boys!"

You got a booming "Yes Sir!" Across your com. 

Not a second later, you hear the distant explosion of the Separatist base and feel the rumbling of the ground underneath your feet. As the rumbling subsides, the sound of marching droids takes its place. 

Jesse's voice came across your comm

  "Droids are approaching position." 

As planned, the buildings and surrounding landscape funnels the droid army into your trap. Once the first few droids made their way through the bottleneck, you called out over the coms

   "Fire!"

With you in front of your team deflecting enemy fire, you and the men of the 501st made quick work of the tinnies. Once the last droid fell, you and your team met with the rest of the 501st.

 "Well done boys!"  You cheered. 

You walked over to Kix, and checked in with your injured. Luckily, there were minimal injuries, and the injuries that the men did endure were not serious. After you checked in with Kix, you checked in with Rex to make sure the remaining men were doing well, and ready to join Master Plo and the 104th to continue the efforts to take back the planet. Rex and Fives admitted that one trooper wasn't acting like himself…Tup. The three of you went over to Tup, and you asked if he was OK. Tup forced himself to appear confident and sure; but you could feel the turmoil. His force signature also seemed muted, like something was trying to take over. You didn't push the young trooper to explain his feelings; however, you were concerned, and you were going to keep an eye on him. 

You and the 501st made your way over to the 104th's position. As the 104th came into view, you could see that they were taking down the last advancing platoon of droids. You have your men form another line of defense. As you jump in front of the clones, you can't help but longingly scan the battle field, for Wolffe. You find him dodging blaster fire and shooting back with deadly accuracy. You're pulled out of your daydream by a dark shift in a nearby force signature. As your deflecting enemy fire, you also try to find the source of the disturbance. Suddenly the force screams at you from behind in warning. As time seems to slow down you hear a voice calling your name.

 "Y/N!" 

You attempted to use the Force, to dodge the incoming blaster fire, but you were unable to get away unscathed. You turned just enough to avoid the lethal shot, but you were still hit in the shoulder. The force and searing pain of the shot almost brought you to your knees. You moved to take cover so you could assess the damage and gather your thoughts without getting shot again, whether it be enemy or friendly fire. It's then that you look up and looking back at you with his rifle still aimed in your direction was Tup.

Wolffe ran to your side. 

"Y/N! Are you ok?! Where are you hit?!" 

  "Shoulder, but I'll be ok" you managed to get out while grimacing in pain. 

The usually stone-faced Commander Wolffe had a rare look of fear on his face. He tried to keep his face and voice professional, but for a quick second, you thought you saw something different in his eyes. You wanted nothing more than to curl up into his strong chest and just stay there forever. As Comet, Kix, and Rex  ran over to you, you realized that Tup's force signature was still clouded, and his face was contorted like he was having an internal war with himself. 

     "Tup! Something is clouding is mind, trying to make him loose control. I can feel it! We have to help him!" You frantically told them.

All four clones turned and they saw the panic and desperation in their brother's face. Rex called out to Echo and Fives 

   "RESTRAIN TUP!" 

The ARC troopers grabbed their brother and wrestled him to the ground.  Rex turned his attention to Kix.

   "Sedate him, and get him back to the ship! I want every test and scan done to figure out what the hell happened!" Rex commanded.

You tried to get up and help, but were quickly stopped by Wolffe and Comet. 

     "Oh no General, you're staying with me until I can get you back to the Triumphant."  

     "Until WE get you back to the Triumphant" Wolffe stated, leaving no room for discussion. Wolffe had always been protective, but you felt as if he had doubled his efforts lately to shield you from the galaxy. 

Suddenly Master Plo's voice rang in your ears.

    "Actually Commander, Y/N is the acting General of the 501st. Because of this, she will be moved and treated on the Resolute with Captain Rex and the rest of the 501st". 

You saw Wolffe's jaw clench, eyebrows furrow, and his hands fold up into fists. 

    "Yes General" Wolffe replied after a moment in a deep and quiet tone. 

Rex looked Wolffe straight in the eye, and said

    

     "I will personally get her back to the ship and make sure she is taken care of". 

Wolffe nodded in response

     "Yea, no worries guys. I'm pretty sure it's a clean shot anyways. Nothing a bacta patch can't heal. I'll even be a good patient this time, promise" you said with a sarcastic grin across your face. 

Wolffe and Comet rolled their eyes, but couldn't help the little smiles that tried to creep onto their faces. 

After leaving the clean up and the last of the humanitarian effort to the 104th. You and the 501st were on your way back to the Resolute. The second you got on board you raced to the Medbay. You were moving your arm too much for someone who just got shot, but you ignored the pain and continued on with Rex on your heels. You skidded to a stop in front of the medbay and walked in to see Tup's status. 

The shock and confusion over the most recent events was overwhelming on the Resolute. Everyone was still trying to mentally process that Tup had attempted to kill you. You approached Kix and Tup with caution. Rex had elected to go in front of you, just in case Tup was awake and still unstable. Kix had kept him sedated for everyone's safety, and to make all the tests and scans easier. Kix informed you that Tup's vitals were stable, and that he had yet to find anything unusual. You reiterated Rex's orders to run every test and scan he could. You then checked on the other wounded troopers. Rex and one of Kix's assistants insisted that you get your shoulder patched up before doing anything else. You agreed and as promised were the perfect patient…minus a few eye rolls. 

As you expected, you left the medbay with a few stitches, a bacta bandage wrapped around your shoulder, and a sling to prevent excessive movement. As you and Rex left the medbay, several members of Torrent approached you in hopes to find some clarity or atleast a plan of action. 

     "General! So good to see you're ok" Jesse said with genuine concern. 

     "Thank you Jesse. It was a clean shot, nothing a little bacta can't fix" you replied. 

Next Fives jumped in with obvious worry in his voice 

      " What the hell happened? What's wrong with Tup? Will they try to take him back to Kamino?" 

You all had heard the rumors of what happened to troopers who we're deemed 'ineffective' or 'damaged'. Your blood boiled, with the thought that the Clone Troopers might be subjected to such evil and inhumane acts. 

You raised your good arm and gently put your hand on Fives' shoulder. 

      "Fives. I know it's hard, but I need you, all of you, to breathe and listen to me". You looked at the men in front of you. "We will find out what is wrong with Tup, we will help him recover, and we will keep the long-necks away from him". All the men seemed to let out a breath that they didn't know they were holding. You continued by saying 

      "To do that though, I'm going to need help". 

     "We got your back General" Rex replied confidently. 

The rest of the Torrent boys nodded in agreement. 

     "Thanks boys. First step is debriefing with the 104th". 

You and the Torrent boys headed to the bridge to make contact with the Triumphant. You all walk in, but only you and Rex step up to the holotable, the rest of the men stood along the sides of the bridge, out of range so not to be seen on the holotable but so they can still hear the conversation. You asked your Communication Officer to put a call through to the Triumphant.  Soon Master Plo and Commander Wolffe appeared in front of you. You saw Wolffe's shoulders  visibly tense when his visor made its way over to you. Master Plo looked relieved to see that you did in fact have minimal injury for what was supposed to be a lethal shot. 

       "Hello Y/N, happy to see you're doing well. That was quite the life saving use of the force". 

      "No need to worry about me Master, it's good to see you and Commander Wolffe in good health as well. I assume everything went well after we left?" 

      "Ringo Vinda is back under the protection of the Republic, and the local government has been successfully reestablished. Minus your unforeseen brush with death, the mission was completed".

      "On that note Master, I wanted to see if there was any way we could manage the incident as an internal Jedi affair?" 

      " Y/N, you know as well as I do that this falls within the Senate's control, not the Jedi Council" Master Plo sympathized. 

      " What if I make an appeal as to why we should manage the investigation ourselves, with the support of a Senator?" 

      " Y/N… I know that you've always struggled with the lack of attachment aspect of your training, and that means you care and love deeply, but you can't let your feelings cloud your judgment". 

      "Master I'm not! I'm trying to find the truth! I'm trying to protect the men of the GAR, and Jedi alike. Something is wrong, and I intend to find out who or what it is".

     "Then I suggest you work as covertly as possible, and keep your circle small. You are heading into dangerous waters Lil' Y/N. I'll protect and help you as much as I can, but The Jedi Council can not be implicated in any way."  

     "I understand Master, thank you".

     "May the Force be with you".

    "And with you". 

The holotable cut out, and you could feel the eyes of the troopers in the room on you. You looked up and saw awe and admiration on every clone face in the room. You were thinking of how to address the troopers in the room, but you were speechless when every clone stood at attention and raised their hand to salute you. This time though the salutes were not out of obligation or a sign of being a good soldier. Instead these salutes showed affection, pride, and trust. 

[dilemmaontwolegs]

I saw your requests were closed But I really couldn't help sharing one. I hope you do like the idea :)

So what about a Charles × Wolff/Hamilton reader where she is working in Health care but has a new boss recently and he passes inappropriate comments/threats etc about her and acts out of line, which keeps on escalating (As dramatic and much as you want it to) and she doesn't tell him or anyone and starts behaving irratically and is scared, but one day it was too much or he finds out about it on accident and is angry at first at her for not sharing and then is all protective and possessive and does something about it.

One shot/ Series. Honey anything to read any version of this would be just 🤌🏻

Thank you ❤️🥹

Your Safe Place || CL16

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem!Wolff!reader Warnings: 18+ only, injuries, bullying, panic attack WC: 3.3k F1 Masterlist

Translations: ma (petite) louve - my (little) wolf || chérie - sweetheart || putain - fuck || je t’aime (aussi) - I love you (too) || Quel salopard - what an asshole

The second you closed the front door you could finally breathe again. Taking a moment to just settle after the day you had endured, you pressed your back to the door and closed your eyes. It was like you told your younger patients when they were feeling stressed: smell the flower, blow out the candle. Inhale through your nose, exhale out your mouth.

Peace calmed your mind as you smelt the dinner Charles had made, your plate kept warm in the oven like he did whenever your shift ran overtime. That was an almost daily occurrence, especially with the new boss. You took another breath to clear your mind before it could return to the man who was single handedly making you regret your entire career choice.

"Hey-oh," Charles caught himself before he could hug you, spotting the blood on your scrubs. "You, uh, have a little something-" You looked down where he gestured, his nose wrinkling at the sight.

"It's fine," you said as you dropped your bag to the floor and pulled the shirt off. "It's mine, not a patient."

He nodded with relief as he took it from you to put in the washing machine but then it dropped as he realised what you had said and took a closer look at you. "Ma louve, what happened?" his fingers were gentle as they guided your face up to the light and he saw the bruising around your nose. "Putain, you're hurt."

"It was an accident," you said softly as you took his hands from your face and stepped into his embrace. "Cassia just had an episode, you know how it is, she didn't know what she was doing."

He wasn't appeased by the answer as he led you to the kitchen where he sat you down before checking your dinner was still warm enough to eat. "Where was security?"

You were grateful his back was to you as he reheated the pasta, something he hated having to do since it was never as good as when it was fresh. You had grimaced, wondering the very same thing at the time. They should have been close in the ward but with the new boss, expenditure was more important than safety and the budget had been cut in half the moment he started.

"They got there as fast as they could." It wasn't a lie. They had run all the way from the maternity ward on the floor above but you had already reset your broken nose by the time they arrived. She had quickly calmed after a dose of haloperidol and been apologetic when she realised her actions while delirious. “I’m fine, Char.”

Diana sighed as she bandaged your wrist, a look of pity in her eyes as she shook her head. “Why do you stay? It’s not like you need the money, hun.”

You tested the range of movement and winced at the sharp pain, just another incident to add to the growing list. “What good does quitting do? You guys would just be another nurse down and it would put more pressure on an already crumbling system.” 

The older nurse patted your hand before standing up and putting the left over roll of gauze away. “You’re too kind, but sometimes you have to put yourself first.”

You should have taken the rest of the day off but there were rounds to finish and call bells ringing left, right and centre. It was only when you couldn’t ignore your rumbling stomach any longer that you really took a proper look at your watch and saw your shift had finished over an hour ago.

“Katrina called in sick, I need you to stay on,” Tommy said without a simple hello when he caught you alone in the staff room. 

“I can’t,” you replied as you grabbed your bag with your good hand, “it’s my dad’s birthday - we’re going out to dinner.”

“I don’t give a shit if you’re having dinner with the Crown Prince himself, we need you here.”

“Albert may actually be there,” you mused as you started to leave, but an arm blocked the doorway.

“Your yearly review is due next week, and I would hate to have to make a note of insolence, poor attitude and lack of empathy for others. We are short on staff and it’s not like you have children at home.”

That had been the only reason you took some extra shifts when you could manage it, because there were nurses like Katrina who had two young ones and they often fell ill with colds and flus from their daycare. It meant you had to become the automatic fall guy when any other member of staff couldn’t make it - but that was what the on-call nurses were for, except…

“Maybe we wouldn’t be short staffed if you didn’t get rid of the on-call contractors, or if you hired more nurses like we were promised two years ago,” you snapped without thinking, your hunger and exhaustion removing the filter that stopped you from having the temper your father did. Or, passion, as he liked to call it - a Wolff trait. 

“So this is my fault?” he scoffed. “Nurses cost money. You might not know this, but money doesn’t grow on trees.”

You rolled your eyes at the reminder that you grew up with a silver spoon in your mouth, but that didn’t mean you were the spoiled daughter everyone who didn’t know you thought you were. You had studied hard and put in the effort to become a nurse because you wanted to help people. Tommy only cared about the profit.

“Healthcare shouldn’t be about money,” you muttered as you rolled your eyes. “It should be about helping the people who need it.”

“Then ask daddy dearest to make a donation, sweetcheeks,” he mocked as he pinched your cheek like a child. “That’s the only way you’ll get your precious nurses.”

You slapped his hand away from your face and ducked out the door before he could stop you but his voice echoed along the cold sterile corridor, “I hope you like night shifts, you’re going to be on them for a very long time.”

“You wouldn't,” you turned with a gasp. Charles' timetable was erratic but unless he was out of the country for a race he would always make the effort to be home by the time your shift ended. 

“I would.” He chuckled and left in the opposite direction, pointing back to the staff room as he went. “You can leave at the midnight swap.”

Sighing with defeat and tears stinging your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the bag and sent an apologetic text to your father for missing his dinner party. 

By the time midnight arrived your feet were aching and you had nearly emptied the vending machine of snacks to stave off your hunger. It wasn’t far from the hospital to the apartment you shared with Charles but it felt like a million miles when you stepped out into the cold night.

You pulled your jacket tighter around your body and shivered as you started off, your head down and hood up. You were so focused on just putting one foot in front of the other you didn’t see the shadow join you until a hand grabbed you and you screamed with terror as you were pulled into their chest.

“Ma louve, it’s me,” Charles soothed as he pulled your hoodie back and saw the tears in your eyes. “I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“I, I,” you stammered as you tried to unscramble the thoughts in your head.

“Shh, I’m sorry, I called out to you like three times. I shouldn’t have grabbed you, that was stupid,” he chided himself.

“No, no, I’m sorry, I was in a world of my own.” You finally took notice of your surroundings and saw the car park was almost empty and none of the cars were his Pista.  “What are you doing here? Did you walk?”

“I didn’t want you walking alone at this hour,” he said with a kiss on your forehead. “You’re shaking, ma chérie.”

“It was a long day,” you murmured as you yawned, resting your head on his shoulder as he gently rocked you. “I think I have more coffee in my system than blood right now.”

“You can’t keep this up, my love, you are going to burn out.”

You pulled out of his embrace and started down the footpath so he didn’t see the tears begin to escape. “I’m fine, Char. I can handle it.”

It was Charles' home race and you had promised him you would join him in Ferrari this year. It was one of the few races you could always attend, managing your shifts around it so you never missed it, and all week you had seen the city setting up for the pride and joy of Monaco. 

Dawn was breaking on the big day and it looked like it was going to be a stunner as the sky turned blue and you left the hospital after yet another night shift. Tommy had found a way to make your life miserable and your shifts were constantly changing just to upset your mentality and circadian rhythm. You could barely tell morning from night when it always looked the same blue hues, same cool temperatures, the only indication was which side of the city was glowing, east or west.

“Good morning, baby,” you greeted as you wrapped your arms around Charles and kissed his shoulder as you found him at the bench making breakfast, already wearing his bright red Ferrari uniform. “How did you sleep?”

“Not bad. Would have been better with you,” he said as he turned to face you, his head dipping down to indulge in a kiss. You giggled as you saw a few crumbs of toast caught in the short hairs of his beard and brushed them away. “Thank you.”

“Now you can kiss me.”

The doorbell rang and he reluctantly released you from his arms to go answer it, his finger pointing to the second plate you hadn’t noticed. “Eat, amour.”

You hummed happily as you grabbed the toast and took a bite, casting a wave to Andrea as he walked in with Charles. 

“You look half dead, Wolff,” his trainer said with a worried look.

“She just got in from a shift, and will be going to bed as soon as she has eaten, right?” Charles said pointedly while you rolled your eyes.

“Does he boss you around this much?” you asked Andrea, making him chuckle as he shook his head.

“No, but he doesn’t love me the same way.”

“Who said I love you at all?” 

“You do, every time you get a podium,” Andrea pointed out seriously.

You nearly choked on the mouthful as you tried not to laugh at the truth. Charles was very affectionate when he was celebrating, and you hoped he would have an entire night of it after today's race. Unfortunately you wouldn’t be able to share it with him since you were due back at the hospital at 7pm for another 12 hour night shift. You had tried to find someone to swap with but Tommy had made it clear there would be consequences - all because you questioned his qualifications.

You hadn’t been able to quiet any more, not when you had the imprint of a patient's dental records on your forearm from when they bit you. You started dreading going to work, somewhere that should have been a safe place, a refuge for those needing help had become the opposite for you. It was bordering on dangerous and you had to say something.

In hindsight, you shouldn’t have said it in the morning meeting in front of dozens of staff, but you had serious doubts about his ‘people skills’ and wanted to know where he got his management degree from. Suggesting it was from Hogwarts, because it must be a thing of fantasy, may have been a step too far.

You were now paying for those words.

You still stood by them.

You still hadn’t told Charles.

He would only worry, or suggest taking a sabbatical. Yes, you longed to travel with him to his races and show your support, but you didn’t feel there was any way to contribute to society with that life. Nursing gave you a sense of purpose and fulfilment that you were certain you couldn’t feel just being the driver’s girlfriend, or the principal’s daughter.

“Hey,” Charles roused you softly and you realised you were starting to fall asleep while eating. “Let’s get you to bed, ma petite louve.”

You were already closing your eyes before your head hit the pillow but you felt his lips warm your forehead. “I love you. I’ll see you in the garage,” you mumbled as sleep took over.

“Je t’aime aussi.”

“Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you swore as you scrambled out of the bed and pulled on the first outfit you could find, a pair of comfortable jeans and a Ferrari shirt with Leclerc across the back with the number 16. There were dozens of missed calls and even more text messages but do not disturb had automatically turned on and you had forgotten to stop the setting. Today of all days you wanted to be disturbed.

Out on the street you could already hear the high keening of the cars racing around the city and you dashed through the thick crowds to get to the paddock. You hadn’t even remembered to grab your pass as you left in a rush but for once you were thankful someone recognised you and let you through.

“Arthur, how is he doing?” you panted as you reached the Ferrari garage and grabbed the headset he held out.

“Not the best start, he was a little distracted I think. You should probably let him know you are here.”

You agreed and went to the desk at the back rather than the main set up on the pit wall, quietly asking them to connect your headset to Charles. They were hesitant but there was no need for a pit stop any time soon since he had fresh tires so they made the adjustments to the channels.

“Hey baby, sorry I’m late.”

“You had me worried, little wolf.”

“That sounds so strange to hear in English,” you giggled, knowing the rules of the comms meant he couldn’t speak French on them. “I just wanted to let you know I made it so you can stop worrying.”

“I’ll always worry about you,” he said and you didn’t need to see his face to know he was smiling. “I’ll see you soon.”

The final 12 laps went almost as quickly as your nails, the nervous habit ruining them under the stress of the tight street circuit and close calls. Every time his car went flying through the sharp corners around the pool you were sure you were going to see him crash and your heart could barely take it. You ripped the headset off and rushed out of the garage as a wave of nausea crashed over you.

“Are you alright?” Arthur asked when he caught up to you in Charles’ driver room, a bottle from his fridge pressed to your clammy forehead. Your hands could barely keep it steady as the shook uncontrollably and you ended up letting it fall to the floor with a thud as you wrapped your arms around yourself. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

You couldn’t answer him as you struggled to pull air into your lungs, the screams of the crowd outside doing little to calm the panic gripping you. Dropping your head between your knees, you tried to keep from fainting but you could feel your heartbeat in your head, the throb sounding in time to the darkening pulse invading your vision until it all faded to black.

“You’re not listening, mate, she cannot come to work. She fucking passed out from exhaustion.”

“Then she should have been sleeping and not wasting her time watching some cars go around in circles. If she doesn't show up tonight, tell her not to bother showing up ever again.”

“She won’t,” Charles ended the call and slammed your phone down. “Quel salopard!”

The anger on Charles' face softened when he saw your eyes opening and he rushed across the room, his race suit still tied around his waist. “Don’t move, just lay down, ma louve. You need to rest,” he whispered as he knelt on the floor beside the couch you were lying on, his fingers brushing your cheek bone. “Arthur’s gone to get Toto.”

You couldn’t tell if minutes or days had passed and trying to think felt like trekking through a swamp of sludge in your mind. “The race?”

“4th.” He pressed his palm to your head and ran it over your hair feeling the damp heat on his skin. “You’ve sweat almost as much as me, mamour. You should have stayed home if you weren’t feeling well.”

You shook your head and it cleared some of the haze that hindered your cognitive ability. “I’m not sick, I just had…a moment. But I’m fine now.”

“A moment?” he asked with a frown. “What type of moment? And don’t tell me you are fine, you are clearly not and you haven’t been fine for months. Talk to me, please.”

The pleading, the puppy eyes, the way he dropped his head to your shoulder like he was defeated, it crested into a tsunami of emotion that broke the wall you had built between your personal life and your work life. The two worlds crashed together and the sob broke his heart as you crumbled apart in front of him.

The wave of truth crashed upon him and everything you had tried to keep from him for the past six months was lifted from your conscience as you confessed it all. You told him about the stress you were under, the bullying you had faced and the danger you were in each night with nearly no support or security.

You had been in a long sleeve when you went to bed but now you were in his shirt and he could see the latest wound marring your flesh, the impression of teeth setting to bruises.

Horror painted his features as he absorbed it all, then it turned to anger, hot rage as his clenched fists turned his knuckles white. “Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked with quiet restraint. “Pourquoi?”

You swallowed and shrank back into the couch as you felt that anger aimed at you. The shaking started again, a fine tremor coursing through your body until it reached your teeth and they chattered as a cold sweat broke out.

“Fuck, no, bébé, please,” Charles cursed as he unclenched his fists and reached for you only to freeze as you flinched. “Please, I would never hurt you. I’m not angry at you.”

“Yes, you are,” you whispered.

“Okay, I’m a little bit angry you didn’t tell me sooner. We are meant to share everything, no?” You nodded meekly. “But I would never hurt you, ma louve. I’m angry at myself, I should have noticed, I should have, I don’t know…I failed you.”

“I was scared. You would make me quit if you knew.”

His head lifted and confusion swum in those green eyes of his. “Why would you want to work for that asshole?”

“I like my job, I like what I do, Charles.” You looked away from the intensity of his stare. “I don’t know who I am without it.”

“Oh, chérie, you would still be the same selfless, kind, beautiful woman you are right now. That is who you are, and that will never change.” When he reached for you this time you let him take your hands and he kissed your knuckles before holding them to his chest. “I think it’s time to prove it to you.”

You sighed and gave him a small nod. “I think you might be right.”

The sound of relief he made brought a smile to your face and he returned it with a guilty one. “That’s a relief,” he admitted with a nervous chuckle, “because I think I got you fired.”

[mandos-mind-trick]

F*** Diplomacy

Summary: On another relief mission, you find yourself in a sticky situation. Luckily there's a certain Commander to give you a hand.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Warnings: NSFW, 18+, sorta sex pollen, aphrodisiacs, unprotected sex, grinding, clothed sex, growling, biting, brief blood, dirty talk, language, Wolffe being Wolffe, confession of feelings.

A/N: I wrote this in the bathroom during an IBS flare up so please forgive if it makes no sense. I am out of it like crazy but must share the smut with y'all because I have no self control.

MASTERLIST

You could laugh. You wouldn’t dare, though. Your sense of self-preservation is far too high to do something like that. 

It was no secret your commander hates relief missions. 

It's only natural your battalion was chosen to head another relief mission. You think Wolffe actually growled when the Generals ended the call. 

You know how much Wolffe hates relief missions. At least this time his favorite droid won't be going. There was no need for a protocol droid this time. You were delivering supplies and setting up shelters after a Separatist attack. The Republic needs the continued support of this particular planet due to its location near two critical hyperspace lanes, so you were going to help keep the Republic in good graces in the eyes of the inhabitants. 

You would have chosen anyone but Wolffe for this mission. 

The gruff commander wasn't exactly the most diplomatic, and you suppose that's why he'd grabbed you by the pack and hauled you onto the gunship with him and the rest of the Wolf Pack as you'd been loading up. 

It's also no secret you're the Wolf Pack's favorite medic. You had been graced with the sigil on your uniform not long after your reassignment to the 104th. You had been among the many medics shipped off to refill the ranks after the loss of most of the battalion. 

You'd been the one to hold Wolffe's head in your lap, staunching the bleeding after his unfortunate incident with the wrong end of a lightsaber. 

You'd been adopted into the Pack not long after, named their honorary medic despite your status as a civilian contractor. 

You tried not to blush as Wolffe all but lifted you into the gunship with one hand. You'd be lying if you said you weren't harboring a small crush on your commander. It was hard not to crush on any of them, but the gruff commander held a special place in your heart. Maybe it was the way he looked at you as you comforted him after he lost his eye, or maybe it was the way he kept you close whenever you were going to potentially dangerous areas. You know he still feels the loss of his original battalion to this day. 

The gunship rattles as it takes off, your hand lifting to hold one of the handles to keep yourself steady. You don't get off the cruiser often, but you're always excited when you do. You've always wanted to travel, to visit places all over the galaxy. Maybe that's what led you to join the GAR. 

You certainly don't regret it, even if it is hard sometimes.

You can feel Wolffe's arm brushing your side as you sway with the movements of the gunship. You're sure your cheeks are red by now and you're glad your back is to the rest of the Pack. You'd never hear the end of it. 

Wolffe exits the ship first when it lands, offering you a hand to help you down. You take it, even though you could make it easily yourself. 

You jump right into helping, working with the other medics to get the tent set up and ready to start treating any wounded villagers. You'd love to be able to watch Wolffe's attempts at diplomacy, but you are here to do a job. Ogling your commander is not part of that. 

***

You're kept busy throughout the day. Most of the injuries you see are minor. Many bandages and bacta patches later, you finally take a break. One of the villagers offers you a cup of warm liquid and you accept, not having had much of a break to eat or drink anything. The liquid is sweet and slightly tangy, coating your mouth and throat as you drink it, but it’s not unpleasant. 

You finish the liquid before making your way through the village. 

You find Wolffe gathered around the fire with the village leaders. It's colder on the planet than you would have expected with the sun out. You slip in between Wolffe and Sinker, taking in the warmth of the fire. 

Wolffe glances down at you as you settle in beside him, before he turns his gaze back to the village leaders. 

You sit and listen to them talk, your mind starting to wander a bit. You can feel the warmth of the bodies beside you, almost more than the fire in front of you. Something begins to tingle under your skin, making your hair stand on end. 

One of the village leaders is staring at you, her face focused. She's been staring at you for a while, no emotion or expression in her gaze. The attention is making you a bit uncomfortable, and you resist the urge to hide behind Wolffe. 

You begin to warm, a cramping feeling starting in your stomach. You press a hand to your abdomen right below your belly button. Maybe you're more hungry than you thought.

The ache in your stomach continues, progressively getting worse. You couldn't possibly be sick. There were no unknown diseases on this planet you could have been exposed to. You had drank whatever it was that woman had given you. Maybe that was causing your distress. 

"Excuse me." You say quietly as you step away, slipping through buildings until you're on the edge of the village. 

You brace a hand against the side of one of the buildings as another cramp spasms in your stomach. The air no longer feels cold as your body warms. Maybe you are sick. 

You take a few steps into the trees, not wanting to be sick where someone might see you. You take deep breaths, screwing your eyes closed. The last thing you need is to be sick during a diplomatic mission. 

Your ears pick up a sound in the distance, your brows furrowing. Curiosity gets the best of you and you follow the sound, walking through the trees.

You stop on the edge of a small clearing, your eyes widening. The woman that had given you the drink is pressed up against a tree, completely bare. There's a man behind her, snapping his hips into hers. Both of their eyes are closed, faces twisted in pleasure. 

Your face burns as you back away, breathing heavily. Kriff, you think. You had read something about this planet's mating seasons. The attack had happened right in the middle of one. 

Kriff. 

Your core throbs, your brain replaying the image of the man and woman over and over. The faces begin to shift, morphing into you and Wolffe. His hands gripping your hips, growling as he fucks into you. 

Oh kriff. 

You need to get on a gunship and back to the cruiser immediately. The drug could kill you if you're not careful. 

Your name is called, your eyes squeezing shut as you curse. Just who you don't want to see. You turn to him, probably looking as wild as you feel. Wide eyed, sweat dripping, legs trembling. Thank the maker he can't read your mind as he struts closer to you. 

You know he's big. You just know it. 

"Everything alright?" Wolffe asks, stopping a few feet in front of you. 

"I need to get to the med center on the cruiser." You say, voice shaking almost as much as your legs. 

He frowns, looking you over. "Are you sick?"

"I'm going to be." You murmur, swaying on your feet. 

You audibly whimper when Wolffe puts his hand on your shoulder, steadying you. His hand is so warm, the weight of it enough to send you spiraling into visions of him on top of you, those hands all over your body. You screw your eyes shut, not able to look at him anymore. 

"What's going on?" You can practically hear the growl in his voice. Slick floods your panties, soaking them right through. 

"It's mating season." You say, not brave enough to open your eyes. "They gave me an aphrodisiac." 

"What?" Wolffe asks in disbelief.

"This planet has mating seasons. They use aphrodisiacs to help. I drank one." You explain. "I didn't know what it was when she gave it to me."

His grip on your shoulder tightens, another whimper leaving your throat. You want him to squeeze your hips, your thighs, your ass. You want him to hold you so tightly he leaves bruises. You want him to sink his teeth into your throat and claim you as his-

You don't realize he's been talking. 

"I need help." You whimper. "I could die if I don't get something." The last word leaves you in a whine. You want a cock, you want Wolffe's cock inside you. 

"What can I do?" He asks. 

"I-I'm not in my right mind." You frown, eyes still closed. "I-I can't. I can't take advantage of you like that."

He steps closer. You can feel the warmth of him against your body. He's so close, his breath fanning your heated skin. "What if I want to."

You finally let your eyes open, your gaze meeting his. His brow is furrowed, gaze intense as he stares down at you. 

"Kriff, I've been waiting for you to ask me for a long time, mesh'la." He all but growls, the hand on your shoulder sliding down your arm. It leaves goosebumps in its wake, the fabric of his glove rough against your sensitive skin. "Do you know why I keep you so close to me?" He tilts his head, bending down closer to you. 

You lift up on your toes, shaking your head. "No, sir."

He does growl this time, the sound vibrating in his throat as he smirks. "It's because I keep hoping for the right moment to kiss you."

"All you had to do was ask." You murmur, closing the distance between you.

Your back hits a tree as your lips meet, his body pressing tight against yours. His hand lifts to your face, tugging on your chin until you open your mouth. He slips his tongue inside, flicking it against yours. You moan into his mouth, the heat under your skin practically begging you to devour him. 

His hands slide down your body to your hips as he sinks his teeth into your lower lip. You taste blood, but you don't care as he presses his codpiece against your pelvis. You moan at the friction, grinding yourself against the hard plastoid. 

"Kriff, just like that, mesh'la." He groans. "Gonna cum just like that?"

You continue to grind against him, nodding. "Yes. Fuck, Wolffe!"

He smirks, letting you work yourself up desperately against him. "Good girl."

He lets you continue to grind against him, his hand slipping behind you to grab a handful of your ass. You whine, his touch almost painful but you don't care. 

"Gonna...gonna cum." You pant, desperately grinding against his codpiece. 

"Cum for me." He growls, pushing harder against you. 

Your head as you cum with a cry, hips jerking against his codpiece. You can feel the bulge under it, a promise of what's coming next. 

The heat under your skin abates for just a moment, your mind clearing enough for you to catch your breath. You taste blood as you lick your lips, staring up at Wolffe. 

"I need more." You gasp out, heart thumping wildly in your chest. "It won't be enough."

Wolffe bites the tip of his glove, tugging one off. He tucks it into his belt before his hand cups the spot between your legs. You're hot and damp under your uniform, slick dripping down your thighs. You need more, you need touch. 

You press your hips against his hand, desperate for more. He tugs your belt off dropping it in the grass. His hand slips under your waistband, rough fingers gliding through your slick folds. 

An absolutely primal noise leaves you as he finally touches you, more slick gushing out to coat his fingers.

He chuckles, fingers ghosting over your clit. "Such a needy little thing." 

"Please." You whimper. "Please. Need you so bad."

"What do you need, baby. Tell me." 

"Your cock." You whine, grinding against his hand desperately. "I need your cock inside me."

He pulls his hand from your pants, making you sob. "Ask politely. I am your commander, remember?"

You gulp, getting wetter as he stares down at you with that intense gaze. "Please, sir. I need your cock inside me."

He grins, stroking your cheek with his slick fingers. "That's my good girl." 

You practically preen under him, legs shaking in anticipation. 

"Take it off." He growls, leaning in closer to your face.

You reach forward, pulling off his codpiece. You can feel the heat blooming under your skin again, your brain filling with fantasies of what's about to happen. You drop his codpiece in the grass, your hand rubbing the bulge in his blacks. He's so big, hard and pulsing against the fabric. 

You slip your hand in, closing your fingers around his cock. Your mouth waters and you desperately want to drop to your knees and suck the mean streak right out of him. You know you can't waste much time, though. You need to fix this problem and get back before the others start looking for you. 

You pull him free of his blacks, marveling at the size of him in your palm. You jerk him a couple times, letting your eyes lift back to his face. His gaze isn't soft or gentle by any means. It's...admiration, you think? Something not usually in his gaze when looking at others. 

"Take your pants off." He rasps, pushing your hand from his cock. He takes it in his own hand, jerking it as you work on tugging your pants down. 

You get one leg out before he pounces, gripping your thigh tightly to tug that leg around his waist. You lean back against the tree, holding his gaze as he drags his cock through your folds. 

You mewl needily, trying to push your hips closer to him. He finally takes pity on you, slipping his cock inside your pussy. You moan at the stretch, your body opening for him. You know it's the aphrodisiac doing most of the work, making your body well prepared for him without needing any extra stimulation or preparation. 

The feeling of his cock stretching you open forces the worry of any lingering side effects out of your mind. He pins you against the tree, your arms wrapping around his neck. 

He pauses once he's inside you, letting out a groan. He lips brush your neck as he feels you pulse around him, body desperate for any sort of relief. You cling to his shoulders, his armor digging into your skin but you don't care. The pain only adds to the sensation, more wetness seeping out around his cock. 

"Making a mess of us and I haven't even started yet." He smirks. "You naughty little thing."

You whimper at his words, trying to grind your hips against him for any sort of relief. "Please, sir." You whine. "Please fuck me."

He nips at your neck, humming quietly. "Since you asked so nicely."

He draws his cock from your walls until just the tip is inside before slamming his hips forward, forcing his cock back inside. You gasp at the sensation, clinging to him as he repeats the motion, jolting your body with every thrust into you. 

The bark of the tree drags against your skin but you don't care. You'll worry about the discomfort later. All you care about is Wolffe and his cock inside you. 

"Harder." You gasp, threading your fingers in his hair. "Fuck me harder, please."

A groan rumbles in his chest as he draws his hips back before picking up the pace, fucking into you hard. You cling to him as he takes you roughly, hips slamming against yours. You'll have bruises but you don't care. 

"So kriffing good." He groans, panting into your neck. "So tight and hot. Such good pussy, baby. All for me. All mine." 

"Yours." You gasp, hardly able to form words from the pleasure rushing through your body. "Only yours." 

"Gonna cum for me?" He asks, slipping a hand between your bodies to tease your clit. "Gonna cum around my cock?"

You cry out his name as he fucks you through your orgasm, walls spasming around him as pleasure burns through your veins, nearly whiting out your vision. 

His hips stutter, a growl rumbling through his chest as he cums, hips slamming into yours as he fills your pussy. 

You're gasping for breath, still clinging to him as you come down from your high. 

"Fuck, babe." He groans, pulling back just slightly. The front of his armor and his blacks are soaked. 

"Oh kriff." You breathe. You can still feel the heat lingering under your skin. 

Wolffe pulls himself free of you, tucking himself back unto his blacks. "Made a big mess of us, didn't you?"

You nod, legs shaking as you try to stand on them. He chuckles, helping you back into your pants, putting your belt back on before his codpiece. 

"Come on, mesh'la." He says, scooping you into his arms. "Let's get you back to the ship." 

"But what about the mission?" You ask, resting your head on his shoulder. 

"Fuck diplomacy." He says, carrying you back to the gunships. 

Taglist:

@kaminocasey @rosechi @mxkyrie @bobaprint @star-trekker-0013 @padawancat97 @bamfahsoka @rain-on-kamino @thrawnspetgoose @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @wolffegirlsunite @dukeoftheblackstar @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @freesia-writes @anxiouspineapple99 @wings-and-beskar @dystopicjumpsuit @littlemissmanga @madameminor @eris-k @clio3kantarella @moonlightwarriorqueen @sleepingsun501 @originalcollectionartistry @maddiedrmr @idontgetanysleep @clonemedickix @523rdrebel @deejadabbles @starqueensthings @multi-fan-dom-madness @sinfulsalutations @wizardofrozz @mythical-illustrator @sunshinesdaydream @mooncommlink

[miloformula123fan]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? With him being the team principal for Merc, it was expected that she would also support the team and she did. But, she was and still a tifosi at heart and everyone knows it. So when Carlos wins the Australian GP and Charles P2, she sang her heart out during the national anthem was being played. He could see how much she loved the team and he wouldn't want her to stop supporting it. Because he always knew, whatever happened she would stick by his side no matter what. Just something fluff and sweet. Thanks!! :)))

okay, this is short, but the bachelor fic is really long, but im trying to empty my inbox while writing it, so, a little short :)

Please keep requesting - y'all have awesome ideas we agree on a lot of stuff :) - my guidelines are here, and if you want some prompts, they are here.

also feel free to come in and start chatting to me in my asks, would love to get to know y'all better

and if you want to be added to my taglist lmk :)

toto wolff x female!wife!tifosi!reader

“And um, while we’re on light hearted topics, moving on from Carlos’ miraculous recovery, i do just want to bring up Y/N Wolff, was at today’s race, obviously horrible race for Mercedes, and we really did think she would be quite upset by it, but um, she was later spotted in the Ferrari crowd.” Damon Hill said, trying to avoid getting trampled in the Australian paddock

“Yeah, it was a little odd, we did ask a couple of Mercedes mechanics that we ran into, and they all seemed to know what we were talking about and they all had these knowing smiles, and Shov even quoted Seb saying ‘everyone is a ferrari fan. Even if they say they are not, they are a ferrari fan’ so very odd things going on in the Mercedes garage.” Paul di Resta mentioned

“Let’s um, let’s cut to the footage so you know what we’re talking about.” Damon Hill pointed at the screen.

The Sky broadcast cut to a past shot from the podium. The shot was pretty simple, Y/N standing in her Mercedes shirt, standing out in the sea of red and orange shirts. The anthem and the Italian engineers made it difficult to hear, but her body language and the fact that she was mouthing the words to the Italian National Anthem, with her arm around Fred’s shoulder, swaying side to side.

The camera then panned to Toto, who had an adorable look on his face. It had obviously been a horrible weekend for Mercedes, but he had a grin on his face as he watched Y/N cheering for ferrari. Multiple mechanics were calling out his names as he gazed at his wife looking at the ferrari boys.

“Damn he’s whipped, i think that’s what all the kids are saying these days.” Paul di Resta said

“And speak of the man himself, hey Toto. Got time for a chat?” Damon Hill called out to the tall Austrian, as he walked past. Toto nodded and grabbed a microphone.

“Toto, we obviously saw your wife celebrating the ferrari 1-2, should we be concerned that she is leaving you to join Lewis at Ferrari?” Paul di Resta asked

“No, not at all, whatever happens, I have faith that my wife will stick by my side no matter what. I also don’t think she finds the guys with no hair attractive, so better luck next time Fred.” Toto shrugged before wandering off, probably to find his wife.

--

taglist: @leosxrealm, @tallrock35, @wolf-knights, @janeholt3, @pear-1206

[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

[sinfulsalutations]

Congrats on 500 followers! Can I see Wolffe with a female reader for Prompt 2 (“I can’t believe you’re mine.”)? Maybe something soft and domestic?

➼ ɴᴏᴜʀ'ꜱ 500 ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏɴɴɪᴇ! ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴀ ꜱᴏꜰᴛʏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇꜱ ɪᴛ 🥰

➼ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ☆ "ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ"

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴅᴏᴍᴇꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴋɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 531

The morning air boils deep in your stomach when you awake, the sound of early rising birds chirping outside your window. You stir slowly, a deep groan leaving your lips as your senses come back to you gradually; first, your sight, as you allow your eyelids to peel back and gaze toward the sun peaking through sheer blinds, searing them half shut again when the light finally begins to burn your sight render less once again. Then, you become aware of the looming presence of a strong, muscular arm laid over your waist, hand pressing to your stomach to keep you pressed against his hard, sturdy chest.

You hum again when you feel his lashes brush against you and his lips purse, placing a lazy kiss onto your shoulders where he’d rested his head.

“Morning, baby,” He rasps in your ear, voice so honeyed and alligatored with misuse, and you smile softly to yourself.

“Morning,” you mutter back, turning over. Instinctively, your hands rise up to rest on his shoulders, and you bite your lip to contain your smile. He looks so good like this, bathed in morning light and still trying to get his bearings back. You don’t seem to be doing a very good job. 

Wolffe leans in, and you purse your lips, expecting him to give you a sweet, afterglow-covered kiss, but instead, he slowly creeps up over you, pinning his knees over your thighs and his elbows by your head. You look up at him, raising an eyebrow, and he just leans in toward your temple, leaving a kiss there instead. He then asks in a hushed whisper into your ear,

“What time is it?”

“Not sure,” You respond, hands returning to their rightful place in the crooks between his neck and shoulder. “0900, something like that.”

“Hmm,” Wolffe rumbles, pulling his face away from the side of your face and finally slotting your lips together. You keep wanting to break away, allow yourself to smile in the basking glow of his affection, but instead let him kiss you silly until he’s forced to pull away and catch his breath.

He repeats the action from before, lips pressing against your temple, then your cheek, then softly swiping down to your jaw, before coming back to your ear.

“You sleep well?” He asks. You sense the slight rustling of blankets around you and feel his hand trail over your skin, delicate and innocent, yet it lights your body aflame all the same as the sensual and intoxicating caresses he graces you with in times of heated passion. Perhaps you just can’t help yourself.

“I did,” You answer coolly, tilting your chin up as he slowly journeys down again. When his lips linger on certain spots and you feel that slight curl of a smirk against your skin, you know he’s admiring marks he’s left from the night before.

Suddenly, he pulls away, and you whine meekly, looking up with wide eyes.

“Something wrong?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Wolffe sighs, eyebrows creasing together. But he doesn’t seem annoyed. 

“I just… I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You giggle softly, pulling him down and pressing your noses together.

“You better start, handsome.”

tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @star-burned @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @aconstructofamind

[mrswolffs-blog]

“It’s Our Birthday Schatzi” Toto Wolff x Black!Caribbean!Reader

NOTE: This is for my bestie @omgsuperstarg who shares a birthday with our Team Principal, Toto Wolf. Happy birthday sweet girl!!

The day that everyone had been waiting for has finally arrived. Lewis’ birthday was celebrated a couple of days before; therefore the entire paddock was still on a high waiting for the Mercedes team principal and his partner’s celebration.

Walking into the house, the eruption of cheers and confetti's popping, startled the couple as they jumped back in surprise. “Happy Birthday!!” The team screamed, Lewis and George running up and spraying them in champagne, leaving them drenched. The music started and screams echoed through the house as everyone pulled a partner to the dance floor.

Throughout the night, food was being ate, dance battles going for rounds, conversation flowing, and drunken devotions made, and various pictures taken,the night was seen to be well spent.

The night coming to an end with the final dance, starring the birthday lady and gentleman. The song started off as everyone gathered around. “It’s our birthday schatzi” Toto whispered silently for her ears only. “I know old guy, let’s enjoy the time” his partner joked in response. “I want to, but I’m scared that Lewis will put on a song that I don't have the rhythm for” he stressed, visibly tensing.

Just as predicted, Lewis switched the song to a more intimate and soul combining song named ‘Tender’ by Patrice Robert as this made Toto's heart leap. “Just follow my lead using your hips as you feel my movements and follow along” she whispered softly to his ears as he slowly relaxed, paying close attention to the beat.

Stabilising himself, Toto made the effort to move along in meeting her at each whine and dip, synchronising into the perfect Caribbean dance routine to the Haitian song as the crowd around them cheered and screamed whenever he would perfectly execute a move.

As the song came to an end, everyone clapped, chanting for the couple to kiss. “C’mon, don’t ruin your party old man, just kiss the girl!!" Lewis shouted over the mic as Toto pulled his wife into a passionate, earthshaking kiss.

The party finally came to an end as everyone once again wished the birthday couple a happy birthday on their way through the exit. Almost two hours later, the house was finally cleaned, both Toto and his wife showered; now cuddled up in bed as they wished each other a happy birthday before falling out in a deep slumber.

[waiting-for-motivation]

bittersweet

summary: After being separated for a very long time, two lovers reunite under challenging circumstances on Teth.

pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader

warnings: !SPOILERS!, fluff, angst, no happy ending

words: 1075

a/n: the return of the king (and my writing :)

!!!SPOILERS EPISODE 6 AND 7!!!

MASTERLIST REQUEST RULES

One second the laughter of Echo and Gregor fills the ship, then there is a desperate call for help coming through the comm. It‘s Rex, surrounded by imperial forces. He is with clone force 99 as well as other surviving clones. Right away, Echo turns the ship around and heads back to Teth as quickly as possible. Neither Gregor nor (Y/n) need a direct order to reach for their weapons and prepare for a risky exfiltration.

For a few seconds, (Y/n)s fingers linger on her vibro knife with a significant wolf engraved into it‘s hilt. Her heart burns at bittersweet memories of a certain Commander. Closing her eyes, she can still see him smiling after he gave her the knife. Other people, maybe even some of his brothers, considered him strict and bitter, but (Y/N) could always look behind his cold behaviour. But now, he is out of her reach, and she can‘t admire the glint in his eyes anymore.

“Are you alright?“, Gregor places a hand on (Y/n)s shoulder, tearing her out of her daydreams. There is a single tear running over her cheek and she quickly wipes it away, but the clone saw it. He tries to smile at her reassuringly. The smile on her lips doesn‘t reach her eyes, though.

“Yeah, thanks, Gregor“, (Y/n) tells him with a shaky voice and turns back towards her numerous weapons. The knife slides into the holster on her thigh, and it feels heavier than ever.

As she places her rifle over her shoulder, Echo announces that they are almost at the extraction point. Gregor and (Y/n) walk towards the ramp and get into position. Standing behind Gregor, (Y/n) aims her rifle towards the opening ramp. At first, she can‘t see much because Echo is still landing the ship, but then she catches a glimpse of Rex and other clones surrounded by imperial forces.

Her crosshair moves from the regular troops to a commando and finally to the Commander of this squad. The grey paint on his armor seems familiar and takes away (Y/n)s breath. It looks too familiar, she must be hallucinating. It can‘t be him. But the moment the Commander takes off his helmet, (Y/n) recognises him. It‘s Wolffe.

The rifle falls to the ground with a loud thump, attracting everyone’s attention. (Y/n) has to take a few steps forward to stand next to Gregor and be in view to everyone. To her in this very moment only one person matters. It‘s like everyone else disappears and leaves her reunited with her lost lover.

Wolffe is as baffled as never before. His cybernetic eye must be malfunctioning because how could his cyar‘ika be right here on Teth? She might look a bit different, but so does he. War changes people. In the past year, whenever her imagined her in his mind, he would always remember her carefree in the summer sun of Coruscant. Now she is wearing a heavy protective vest and many weapons, looking almost drained. But it‘s (Y/n), for sure.

“Wolffe“, she whispers his name before approaching him with fleet steps. Running past Rex, who understands the situation unlike the clones around him, (Y/n) reaches Wolffe quickly. Without a second thought, she wraps her arms around his neck and crashes against him, making him stumble a few steps backwards. His helmet falls to the ground, and he engulfs her in a tight hug.

There are smiles and tears as they part a few inches to take a better look at each other. (Y/n) places her hands just under Wolffes scrubby jaw, caressing his cheeks with her thumbs. “You‘re home“, she whispers and leans forward to connect their foreheads in a sweet keldabe kiss without helmets.

“Yes, I‘m home, cyar‘ika“, Wolffe returns and closes his eyes for some time. Then he remembers the situation they are in as his second in command shifts. Softly, he moves (Y/n) to his side but never actually parts from him. He still has to follow orders, right? But with his beloved girl and multiple of his brothers right here, he gets some doubts.

Most of the clones are already inside of the ship, only Rex and Gregor are still outside, waiting for (Y/n). The soldiers under Wolffe’s command are getting unsettled, not knowing what to do and what their orders are.

“Let them go“, their Commander orders and the troopers lower their blasters. A nod from Wolffe tells them to return to their ship. Turning his attention back on (Y/n), Wolffe can feel his heart ache. He pulls her into a tight hug once again, feeling one of her hands buried in his hair. Only when they part does (Y/n) realise this was a way of saying goodbye.

“No, I only just got you back, you can‘t leave me again. Please“, she whines and starts crying at the realisation. Wolffe takes her face in his rough hands and stops her from hiding her face in her own.

“Shh, don‘t cry. This is not a goodbye, we will see each other again. I promise. But I have to take care of a few things before we can see each other again. I have to take care of my squad. I‘m so sorry, cyar‘ika“, Wolffe tries to reassure his girl. He leans his forehead against hers, not caring what the remaining clones around them think. “We found each other once, we can do that a second time, I‘m sure of that.“

The moment Wolffe tries to take a step backwards and part from (Y/n), she presses herself as close to him as possible. Their lips meet in a teary and passionate kiss, showing their raw emotions. “I love you so much, please come back to me“, (Y/n) breathes against her lover’s lips and finally parts from him. He places one last kiss between her brows, strokes a hair strand behind her ear and whispers a declaration of love in Mando’a : Ni kar‘tayli gar darasuum.

Wiping away the tears from her face, (Y/n) approaches Rex and Gregor who look as downcast as her. They enter the ship after her, but only (Y/n) takes a look back and watches Wolffe enter the imperial ship. They get separated by the closing ramp.

But just like Wolffe said: They found each other once, they can do that a second time.

taglist: @gwenebear @skippyhopperwisdom @littlemisscare-all

[imabeautifulbutterfly]

congrats on 450!! I've just gotten back into my star wars hyperfixation, tis the season I suppose, and your fics have been LIFE SAVERS and so I am here to congratulate you on an incredibly well earned celebration! and to request:

7. "you're not as bad as everyone says."

28. "maybe there's a universe your there where we're friends."

with either Wolfe or Cody x fem/gender neutral (whichever you prefer)?

Thank you so much and congrats again!!! <3

Awww @hxad-ovxr-hxart that's so sweet. I'm so glad my fics have helped. That makes me so happy, and I hope you'll like the fic. I wrote with Wolffe in mind. Enjoy.

Love oo,

Friends

Warnings: Crashing, angst, death, fluff, comfort, I think that's it. If I miss anything please let me know.

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Commander Wolffe was never a man who suffered fools, he didn’t appreciate tardiness, he hated chit chat, and worst of all he hated personal questions. And somehow you managed to do all four on your first day on the Triumphant, which made you public enemy number one in Wolffe’s book. 

Every day you saw him, he simply rolled his eyes and growled each time you passed. 

You tried your best to fix it, but no matter what you did or said, it didn’t make a difference. You gave up after months of constant growls and eye rolls. Now you simply made a point to arrive on time for your shift as a communication specialist. You performed your role to the best of your ability, and did your best to stay out of his way. 

Things were going well, that was until your shuttle crashed, and the two of you were the only survivors. 

“Anything broken?” Wolffe asked after he checked on the two pilots and made his way over to you.

You shook your head, “No. I think …” you tested out each of your limbs, “I think I’m alright” you groaned as you tried to stand.

“Easy. Here,” he held out his hand to help you up, “alright?”

You nodded and followed him out of the crashed gunship, “Hmm… where are we?” You looked around trying to become aware of your surroundings.

“We dropped out of hyperspace somewhere in between, the Triumphant and our destination. Don’t worry they’ll come for us, I sent out a distress beacon.”

“How long do you think we’ll be here?”

“A day or two… maybe a week.” He went into the ship, and grabbed the emergency gear, passing one backpack to you and keeping one himself. 

“Are we going somewhere?”

“To a more defensible position, we don’t wanna be out here in case there’s Separatist droids nearby or in case there are any dangerous animals.”

You nodded and followed him, keeping pace as best you could. It was about three hours later, when you were panting and gasping for breath, “Wait … Commander, please I … I need a break.” You leaned against a boulder. 

“Alright …” Wolffe nodded, “take a break, we can rest for a minute.”

You nodded, thanking him, as you took a break, “Sorry.”

“It’s fine, you’re a civilian. You’re not used to this.”

You looked up at him as you regained your breath and took a sip of water, “You know, you’re not as bad as everyone says you are.”

Wolffe, let out a laugh, “And how bad does everyone say I am?”

“That you have a short temper, you don’t suffer fools, you don’t like civilians really…”

He turned to look at you, “Really?” You simply nodded your answer, “I wouldn’t say I don’t like civilians, I’d say … civilians don’t appreciate the sacrifices me and my brothers make.”

“I know” you answered solemnly, “I’ve heard them, when I walk around Coruscant. I’m sorry. It’s not right or fair.”

“My life has never been really fair. But, thank you.”

You stood brushing off your pants, “I’m good, we can continue.”

Wolffe simply nodded as he led the way to a cave that would provide the right shelter, he set up a defensive perimeter, while you started a fire, when you were finished he came and sat beside you nodding at your achievement. 

“Good job, didn’t think civilians knew how to start a fire”

“Well I did take basic survival training, when I first joined the GAR.”

“Impressive.” He took off his helmet and his gloves, keeping the comm alert on high in case the rescue team was trying to get a hold of them.

“Commander” you looked into the fire, lost in thought, “Do you think maybe there's a universe out there where we're friends?”

“I don’t know” Wolffe answered as he kept his own gaze on the fire, “but I can tell you, you gained a friend today.” He smirked as he looked at you, “Listen, I don’t know what I ever did to make you think I hate you, civvie. But I don’t. I am actually impressed by you. It’s not easy joining the GAR to begin with, not as a civilian, certainly not as a woman, but you continue to work harder than everyone else. You’re prompt with your reports and always pleasant with your co-workers. I’ve heard nothing but praise from everyone you work with, and even today, you put up with a lot, with barely a complaint. That’s impressive.”

You tried to hide the smile that wanted to creep on to your face, “Thank you, Commander.”

“Wolffe.”

“I’m sorry?”

“When it’s just us, you can call me Wolffe. After all, we’re friends, right?”

“That’s right … Wolffe.”

He didn’t know why but hearing you say his name, brought a smile to his lips. “Close your eyes and try to sleep” he motioned to the ground, “I’ll keep watch. You’ll be safe.”

You nodded and leaned down against the ground resting your head on the backpack, wrapping the emergency blanket around you to stay warm. “Wolffe, do you think someone got our distress signal?”

“Don’t worry civvie, Plo’buir isn’t about to leave us behind.” He looked after you and smiled, “Just relax, and close your eyes. It’ll be okay.”

You nodded, closing your eyes, “Thank you, Wolffe”

“For?”

“For being my friend,” your voice trailed off as the exhaustion from the crash, the hike, and just the anxiety of the day pulled you under. Soon enough you were snoring. 

Wolffe smiled as he watched you sleep, his heart fluttering as he took in your features. He always wondered why you had kept your distance from him, but to think you thought he hated you, made his heart hurt. It was so far from the truth. However, it was too soon to point that out. Instead, for now, he’d be your friend, and hope that in the future, your friendship could progress to something more. Maybe one day. 

“Goodnight, cyar’ika. Sweet dreams.” He whispered as he put his helmet back on and kept his blaster on his lap, keeping guard, making it his job to protect you. 

Main Master List   |  Star Wars Fic Roulette

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @littlemisspascal @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal