#wolffe x fem!reader

[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

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[coffeeandbatboys]

His pack (Wolffe x Fem!Reader)

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

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

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

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

His child.

The thought melts him and builds him up simultaneously.

His pack.

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

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

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

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

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

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

His child.

His pack.

[dancingwiththeplanets]

Wolffe Pup

Commander Wolffe x fem!reader

masterlist

Summary: You introduce a very timid Wolffe to your adopted daughter and it's love at first sight.

a/n: I've decided to make my annual reappearance with no explanation as to where I've been and a 5k Wolffe x fem!reader story to melt your hearts. Enjoy ;)

Your fingers fidget anxiously with each other. The platform is busy. Of course, it’s always hectic the first few hours after a campaign, but maybe everything seems busier today with all the thoughts racing through your head. 

Today was the day Wolffe was going to meet your babygirl. Your sweet, little Aurora.

The thought brings tears to your eyes. She's everything to you, that bubbly little thing. The biggest cheeks, toothless smile, and deep brown eyes that somehow remind you of Wolffe’s. 

He wasn’t even a part of your life when you went through the adoption process. Or even when you’d finally taken her home. You and Wolffe met a few months into your journey through single motherhood. You were young, yes, but stable enough in your job, and always yearned to care for a little baby and give her all the love someone else couldn’t.  

Wolffe never pushed for you to share your daughter’s life with him, and you made sure to give yourself the time to get acquainted with her first. To build the bond and love between you two, even though you felt it from the first time you held her. And Wolffe was so patient and understanding with you wanting to take your time introducing him to Aurora. But at the same time, you shared so much with him because you knew he loved it, and it just warmed your heart how calm and attentive he was, with a little smile on his face, when you showed him pictures of her little growing body and shared with him how she was doing. You knew he already felt like she was a part of his life. 

So here you waited, nervously. Biting your nails now. You’ve tucked yourself into your corner, the ‘safe place’ Wolffe designated as yours long ago, saying it was too chaotic in this place for you to ever be wandering around searching for him and vice versa. Though you have a sneaking suspicion his orders have something to do with the time he found you surrounded by a bunch of his flirting troopers- shiny’s, obviously- far away from your agreed waiting point that time. That’s not a mistake any knowing trooper would make with the Commander’s girl. And unfortunately for them, Wolffe didn’t seem to care that Boost had definitely put them up to it, snickering at the shiny’s petrified faces as their Commander marched in their direction and fortified himself in front of you. 

You really did try not to laugh. But they did look like they’d just found out they were committing treason or something. It would have been extremely funny if you didn’t catch sight of that frightening scowl on Wolffe’s face as he turned away from them, before softening it to a look of concern. 

“If they bothered you, I’ll assign them to hard labor in the cargo bay for 10 months, not 5. Just say the word.” 

“They weren’t bothering me, Wolffe.” You smiled, encouraging the frown to disappear from his stern face. 

He let out a huff, “Well that makes one of us.”

Your cheeks tug upwards just thinking about him, about how irritated he’d been with the men– pretty furious actually. Shouting out retributions and threatening to sanction them all to Fox for prison guard duty. He’s truly not that harsh though. You were held tight under his arm, wide-eyed and shocked by his reaction as he shouted, to the point where you had to intervene and tell him it was just harmless fun. His gloved fingers were firm around your arm, unhappy eyes softening as he looked at you regrettably before finally yelling at his troopers to get lost and whispering something to you about encouraging them too much. 

The memory makes you giggle, and warms your cheeks as you remember to relax and just wait for your Commander to come by for you. Butterflies in your stomach and a shy smile on your face, it’s hard to contain your giddiness, you’re just so excited to see him… It’s a special day. 

You finally spot a distinctly marked helmet emerging from the crowd. Not quite the trooper you were hoping for, but you’re pleased nonetheless. Where there’s a Boost, there’s usually a Wolffe. 

You smile brightly at the trooper as he approaches, thankful to see that he’s made it home safely. You know how much these boys mean to their Commander. 

He raises his hand up in an awkward wave, looking a little stiff as he walks over to you and pulls off his helmet. You would be concerned about his behavior if it weren't for the smile that he tossed your way, albeit laced with discomfort.

You raise your eyebrows at him in a ‘what did you do now’ manner, assuming Wolffe’s tardiness is because of him. 

“Uh, hey vod'ika.” He says, coming to a stop in front of you. 

“Hi Boost, successful mission?” You ask, smiling politely.

“Yeah, um, look…I need to apologize for… something,” He says, his hand raising to nervously scratch at the back of his neck. 

You frown a bit, confused but ready to let him say his piece, “Okay?”

“It’s uh, about Wolffe.”

He hesitates, eyes darting up and down like he’s having a hard time maintaining eye contact with you. You give him an encouraging nod, attempting a small smile again despite the pit in your stomach growing bigger, “Okay?”

“It’s just that, uh,” He clears his throat, adjusting the hold on his helmet. “Well w-we knew the Commander was, uh,” Another grunt to clear the windpipe, “Just, uh, that he was going to be meeting your-uh…your daughter,” This time he coughs, seeming to struggle with the admission, “Uh, you know, whenever it was that we got back, that is..”

The smile was wiped clean off your face halfway through that sentence.

“Okay.”

You can see the panic flashing in his eyes, noting your less than pleased reaction already, but wanting to quickly explain the situation, “And..um… well we may have given him,” Another cough, “A little bit too hard of a time about meeting her.”

Insult and defensiveness immediately boils your blood, your frown quickly morphing into a scowl, “What about meeting my daughter?”

His eyes widen immediately, “Oh! No no - osik - no, it’s nothing like that, it's just- ah,“ He sighs, covering his face with both hands and grumbling curses in Mando'a. “Look I’m so sorry it’s just… he was all excited and-”

“-I know he was excited, is he not anymore?” You ask, anxiety and worry making you sound more angry than shaken - which you definitely feel.  

Boosts face morphs further into panic at your distressed reaction, quickly raising his hands in a harmless motion, “No! He's been so looking forward to it! Beaming with pride, ma’am..” He rushes, sounding desperate. “But we… the pack I mean, uh…we may have sort of insinuated that… well that…”

“That what?” You ask, sounding more hurt now. 

He winces, his voice sounding small as he mutters, shamefully, “..that your baby would burst into tears at the sight of his face.” 

Your mouth hits the floor, utterly mortified, “You what!” 

“We’re so sorry, vod’ika.” A second remorseful voice speaks behind you. You whip around to see Comet, approaching you slowly and looking like a kicked puppy.

“C-Comet! Boost! You know how insecure he is about his scar!” You snap, your own nerves getting the better of you. “What in the galaxy did you say?” 

“It was harmless teasing at first! Honest!” Boost defends, jumping back in. “Just stupid stuff about wearing a baby harness over his armor and being a dad and…and he laughed along at first, seemed to like the teasing actually..the boys caught sight of his datapad and, look it was just harmless teasing!”

You sigh, trying to level your disappointment and anxiety. “What’s this about his datapad?” 

“His..? Oh, the picture of you. A-and your daughter. Ma’am.”

“Her name is Aurora.” You grumble, the sadness growing in your chest. 

“Right,” Comet says, a hand coming to rest on your shoulder. “Aurora, that’s a beautiful name.” He says, an apologetic and guilty smile on his face. “She’s beautiful vod’ika.” 

Your heart tugs a little at the words. She is. The most beautiful. 

“Well I know that.” You still scoff, though your temper calms down a bit. “Wolffe..showed you a picture?”

Comet rubs the back of his neck, nervously looking at Boost, “Not exactly, we grabbed his datapad when we caught sight of the resting screen image. Sorta, passed it around out of his reach.”

“Which picture?” You ask reluctantly. Wolffe saved a picture of you and Aurora as his resting screen image? When had you even sent him one?

“A very beautiful picture.” Comet smiles, “the two of you cuddling or something. She’s laughing.”

Your heart flutters. 

Oh, that picture. 

On his last excursion you’d woken up to a message he’d sent after you fell asleep. The 104th had decided to head out early the next morning into a droid-heavy sector on an already hostile planet. You knew you probably wouldn’t be hearing from him for a few days, which was enough on its own to keep you seriously on edge without the added risk, but he promised he’d be careful and told you he loved you.

You didn’t even think twice about pulling your babygirl up close and snapping a photo. Come home safe to us, you wrote. It was you and your Aurora…she had a big smile on her face as you tickled her, her ear gently caught between your teeth as you bared them like a rascally pup chewing on its favorite toy. It’s one of your favorite pictures of the two of you ever, so silly and tender at the same time, Rory shining front and center in that one, and he set it as his datapad screen.. 

You couldn't help the little smile, just imagining him shouting orders in the strategy room or walking through the hanger holding the datapad, image flashing to life every time he lifted it in his grasp.  You have no doubts, you want that man in your little girl's life. 

These thoughts bring you to sigh, before scowling at the boys in front of you. These di’kuts. You know deep down how much Wolffe has been looking forward to this. It was something you never would have expected from the hot-blooded Commander. You’re not even sure he realized how invested he was in what you had. You think most women venturing into single parenthood would feel confused, maybe threatened, meeting a man who so desperately wants to be a part of little Aurora’s life in any way you shared with him, even if he tried to suppress it and not put that on you. 

He was so patient and understanding with you wanting to take your time introducing him. But at the same time, you shared so much with him because you knew he loved it, and truthfully it just warmed your heart how smiley he would get when you showed him pictures and told him how she was doing. You knew he already felt like she was a part of his life. 

Which evidently now was a problem. “You guys,” you sighed, rubbing your hands over your face, “This is not good I-I don’t know what to do-“

“Please, please, don’t be mad at him if he’s weird, vod’ika,” Comet pleads, bringing you back to the moment, and reminding you that now, you were extra pissed. “It was our fault! You-” he sighs, pain filling his features, “-You should have seen his face when the words left Sinker’s mouth, we got in his head.”

Boost groans at Comet’s words, distress covering his face at the apparent horrific memory. 

“What exactly did he say?” You grit, still not sure if you’re feeling more defensive over Wolffe or your baby right now. 

The two look at each other, deciding who has to be the one to say it. Comet, being the youngest, gets the short end of the stick and crumbles under his brother's glare. 

He sighs, defeated, before speaking, “That the second the baby was in Wolffe’s arms and she got a good look at his scar and the eye she’d burst into tears kicking to get away from him and then his eye would have one of those stress malfunctions and twist around in weird directions before smoking so he’d have to pop it out and then he’d drop it because he’s so uncoordinated and it’d roll on the floor so he’d have a gaping hole in his face which does actually look very frightening and he’d be trying to catch his robotic eyeball as it rolled on the floor and she would be so mortified and scarred that she could never look at him without screaming again.”

The two are silent as you process the words. 

You can’t even say anything. Hands rubbing your eyes and slowly trying to catalog the damage in your head, before sighing, exasperated. You look back up at the boys, both of whom have their heads hung low and regret painting their features, having relived the admittedly vivid horror story concocted by their brother. 

“Right. And where. Is. Sinker.” You demand. 

“Hiding from you, ma’am.”

—————————

Thankfully, Wolffe met you with the same loving embrace and press to your forehead that he always did after a mission. 

Everything was reassuringly normal, until you got into the lift of your building.

“Um…Wolffe?” You ask calmly, noticing the nervous tap of his fingers against his belt, each gloved finger making a loud, tacky noise of resistance with the contact, echoing in the silent elevator. 

"Yes?" He turns to you, immediately stopping the action as well as the swaying on his feet and giving you his complete attention.

“Is everything okay?”

His eyes widen a bit in realization. “Oh. Yes, ma’am! Uh, I-I mean yes, beautiful.” A not so convincing smile spreads across his face.

You arch an eyebrow at him, hoping to lighten the tension with a playful, “Yes ma’am, huh?” 

“S-sorry, love.” He says, attempting a small smile while he adjusts something on his wrist vambrace, “It was a long tour I…I guess I’m a little tense. It was hard on the men and…there was just a lot to do.” 

You smile at him understandingly, the lift door opening. 

Almost there…

You unlock the door. 

We can do this Wolffe… 

“C-cyare,” Wolffe stutters, “Look, m-maybe we should do this another time. I- I don’t think I’m up for this-” He frowns, lowering his gaze to the corner of the tight space.

“Wolffe, seriously, that’s enough.” You frown, sounding unimpressed. “What are you worried about?”

“W-what if she doesn’t like me?” 

“Oh my god.” 

“No” he sighs, “You don’t understand I’m- just look at me. I’m not soft, I’m not pretty, I don’t know how to sing lullabies for crying out-” He huffs, “I don’t even know what babies like to talk about!” 

“Wolffe, seriously, I love my daughter to death, but you are giving an infant old way too much intellectual credit.” You say rolling your eyes. 

Those boys are dead. 

Wolffe sighs again, running a hand over his hair, “But love, you…you don’t understand. She’s going to take one look at me and that will just be it. And then-” His eyes widen, dread swallowing his facial expression, “O-oh my God, my eye. The scar, the cybernetic, wh-what if it scares her-” Wolffe’s face is flashing with absolute horror as he builds up the worst possible scenario in his mind.

Shit, shit, shit. 

What to do..what to do…think...

“Come on,” You say with finality. If you know one thing about your Commander. It’s that the best way to have him deal with a situation, is to give him no other choice than to face it in the heat of battle. 

Your hand hovers over the open button on the control panel. 

“Wait!” Wolffe suddenly snaps, hand snatching your wrist in place.

“Ahh!” You scream, startled. Your arm immediately shoves Wolffe on the shoulder, his form swaying only slightly from the movement “Wolffe! Seriously, you are making me so tense right now!”

“I-I’m sorry it’s just,” He sighs, ”I-if she hates me...please don’t break up with me.”

“Wolffe,” You laugh in exasperation, starting to feel more sympathetic for your poor boyfriend. “I don’t know what’s gotten into you..” You say, lying straight through your teeth. “But I need you to know everything’s going to be fine. I promise. My girl’s got good taste, and she already knows your face. I’ve shown her a million times. I know she’ll love you.”

Wolffe stares down at you with soft eyes. Looking away briefly before straightening up and giving you a gentle nod. 

Your stomach flips with nerves and excitement as you step through the opening door. There’s no way this could go wrong. Not with your Aurora. Certainly not with your Wolffe. No matter how hard and unyielding this man may be in war, even with his brothers, it’s his love and responsibility over them that makes him so stern. He’s protective, he’s caring. 

You try to conceal your own excitement, seeing your little bundle all cozied up in the Nurse Droid’s pouch. Wow, you’ve missed her. You press a gentle little kiss to her head, but don’t want to give Wolffe long enough to start backing for the door before he meets her. 

“Wolffe…this is Aurora,” You say, calmly moving a sleeping Aurora from the nurse-droid’s pouch and into Wolffe’s tense arms. His eyes widen in surprise, arms quickly shifting to find a way to hold her as the slight weight of her slowly lets into his arms. 

His eyes dart around in panic, looking at you nervously for direction. 

“Introduce yourself, Wolffe,” You say quietly, almost unable to contain your excitement at this image before you. “She’s been waiting to meet you.”

Wolffe’s body relaxes slowly. You recognize the almost invisible deep breath he takes in before letting his eyes land on your daughter's sleeping face, and it’s almost as if her peaceful state transmits into Wolffe’s nerves the second he lets himself look at her, really look at her. 

“A-Aurora.” He mutters, more to himself, causing a smile to creep onto your face. You can hear the calm slipping into him like a trance. 

“Yeah,” You almost whisper, placing a hand on her blanket in his arms, the other resting supportively on the Wolfpack emblem on his pauldron, hoping to further distribute a semblance of calm between the two of them. The last thing you need is for Aurora to scare Wolffe away by waking up in his arms screaming. 

That would take some work to repatch. 

“I don’t really call her Aurora much anymore, though.” You whisper, eyes captivated by the image of your girl engulfed delicately by Wolffe’s strong arms. 

“O-oh?” He asks, almost distractedly, glancing up at you before looking back down at the little warm bundle again. 

“Yeah,” You hum, “I’ve been calling her Rory.” 

You hear a deep yet sharp inhale, delivered almost laboriously slow so as not to unsettle the sleeping baby in his arms, “R-Rory?” He asks, his deep voice losing a bit of its composure. 

You grin, finally glancing up at Wolffe, having forgotten to make sure he was comfortable with the encounter so far. And you weren’t all that surprised when he didn’t meet your gaze, still looking at your daughter’s peaceful features. “Like…like roar-y?” He gulps, eyes wide like he’s looking straight into a bright star, “Like a-”

“-Like an animal roar,” You giggle under your breath, “Yeah, I thought you might hear it that way. But it’s R-o-r-y, Rory.”

You look up at Wolffe again, expecting to see a look of amusement on his face, but you’re slightly alarmed to see his features tense, lips pulled back into a tight line and jaw tightly set as he continues gazing at her.

“O-oh.. Wolffe, I’m sorry is this too much? A-are you okay?-” “-That’s the cutest fucking name I’ve ever heard in my life.”

You pull your lips between your teeth, trying not to give away that you’re absolutely elated, surging with love and excitement, unable to hide the smile breaking out on your face. 

“She’s…she’s so beautiful. So much more than in the pictures.” Wolffe mutters, “She looks just like you.”

You can’t suppress the laugh that escapes you at that, muffling it as best you can in front of sleeping Rory. “Wolffe, I didn't give birth to her.”

“She still looks just like you.” He mutters seriously, shaking his head in disbelief at your little girl. 

You admire your boyfriend holding your daughter in his arms. A Commander, hardened by war and tragedy in his life, gently caressing your daughter's forehead with his thumb, you don’t even think he realizes he’s doing it. Her little head small enough in his palm that he can support her neck and reach all the way around her to stroke her features. Your heart swells with heavy emotions, bringing tears to your eyes at the raw beauty of this moment.

You hate to interrupt them, but Rory runs on her own clock, and evidently…”It’s pretty late Wolffe,” You murmur, leaning up whisper in his ear. “I think Rory needs to rest in the nursery now.” 

“O-oh,” He says, shaking his head gently as if coming out of a daze. Yup, you’ve definitely lost your boyfriend to your daughter, and you are totally and completely okay with it. “Of course.” He looks down at Rory and then to your arms, awkwardly leaning forward for you to take her but not quite sure how to maneuver her without disturbing her slumber. However, he looks slightly heartbroken that his brief time with her is up. 

“Why don’t you take care of her, I’ll show you where to go so you know where you can find her,” You say gently, adding an encouraging smile at the end. 

He straightens up, nodding dutifully at the responsibility and taking extra care to follow you down the hallway into Rory’s nursery. 

He knows where the room is already, but he’s not going to argue for you to take the little girl away from his arms. When you reach her crib, he’s hesitant to place her down, but with some light instruction he settles her in easily. Admittedly it does take some extra coaxing for you to pull him out of there, reassuring him for the umpteeth time as you close the door that no she does not need any blankets and yes she will be perfectly fine. 

“You’re closing the door?” He asks, bewildered at the barrier you’ve placed between yourselves and Rory. “But what if-”

“Wolffe,” You stop him, bracing him with a hand on each shoulder, “I promise you with all my heart that she’s okay in there. Now, come with me,” You guide him to your room, just a few steps down from your daughters, and lead him to his side of the bed. 

He immediately starts removing his armor, having spent the night here with you enough times for the motions to feel natural upon entry. Aurora always spent those nights with your mom or sister, few as they were. She was so little, and you were still getting to know Wolffe when you adopted Rory. You wanted to make sure it felt right to introduce them before you did. 

“Here,” You say, bringing the monitor from your bedside table around to him. “Listen.”

He takes the device in his hands with furrowed brows as he sits on the edge of the bed, looking curiously at it. You squat down in front of him, reaching for the volume knob and making sure it’s turned up a little bit more than usual. You can tell he’s about to ask what the monitor is for. Is it broken? Did you need him to fix it? Then you hear the babble of Rory mumbling in her sleep. 

The slumberful noise makes you smile, just as you know it will to Wolffe. As expected, the sweetest grin you’ve ever seen stretches Wolffe’s features, and he shyly tries to hide it, knowing you’re watching him, as he looks away from the device in his hands.

“Now you can hear her,” You say reassuringly, tenderly squeezing his knees as you rise. 

The two of you go to bed early, using Rory as an excuse to cuddle quietly in bed and whisper to each other for hours, wrapped up in each other's arms. Wolffe detaches himself from your arms every so often to make sure the volume on Rory’s monitor is working alright, normally when she gets too silent. It feels wonderful and warm and extra special to be held tightly in Wolffe’s grasp this time, like you’ve shared the most beautiful part of yourself with him and he embraced it more than you could have even hoped. 

—--------------- 

You wake to a sound you’re all too accustomed to. Groaning instinctively at the high pitched cries ripping through the monitor. Your arm swings out to your bedside table to lower the volume a little as you roll towards the edge of the bed, only to waft against the air when you do. 

Instead, you hear a deep groan, then a startled gasp in the bed as Wolffe bolts up. And for a brief moment, you panic at the speed in which your boyfriend is sprinting out of the bed and towards your door.

“Wolffe, wait!” You shout, completely awake now as you jump up and catch his arm just outside the door.

“But it’s- it’s Rory! She’s…she’s..” He gasps, nearly pulling out of your grasp, but slowing his stead when you’ve gently wrapped your arms around him, sensing that he should listen to you first.

You sigh, relieved that you prevented your boyfriend from bursting into your daughter's nursery ready to fight off a threat, probably scaring her in the process.

“Hey, she’s okay, hey.” You say, guiding his face to look at you. “She’s okay, I promise.”

He looks a little confused, eyes still swimming with alarm from having woken up to the cries of your distressed baby. You can feel his heart pounding beneath the skin of his chest, he was scared. He’s used to waking up to blasters and bombs going off, and you feel awful for not preparing him for this, having experienced him jolting awake in the middle of the night, trembling and covered in sweat. Letting him hold you tightly to his overheated, sticky skin as he mutters needless apologies into your hair for waking you. 

The cries of Rory startled him at first, especially being such a disturbing, foreign sound. Jumping into soldier mode to take down the immediate threat is his body's natural reaction.. 

“Wolffe, look at me,” You mutter soothingly, one arm wrapping over the warm skin of his muscular shoulders, hand resting on his cheek, the other down by the waistband of his synthetic shorts. You trace gently against the black fabric hugging his form, hoping to calm him with your touch. 

The heat of his body radiates off him, warming your bare arms against his skin. You hope the skin-to-skin contact is as soothing to him as it is to you. 

“Babies cry…a lot.” You explain gently, “Aurora has trouble sleeping through the night still, she’s probably just hungry.” 

“Oh I-I knew that. I’m,” He sighs, eyes closing as he looks down in shame, “I’m sorry.”

“No my love, please don’t be. I know you just want to protect her.” You say, pressing a warm kiss on his collarbone, then pulling him down to press your lips into his cheek. “Come see, it’s okay.”

You have Wolffe leaned back in the nursing chair holding Rory and a bottle in no time. Her eyes are glued to his face. Unblinking, calm, analyzing each of his features through whatever sharpness of vision she has at this age. Wolffe isn’t any different, you notice, letting her take him in while he does the same. You allow your gaze to follow his, looking at each of her sleepy, delicate little eyelids, her button nose, those cheeks that you just want to smother in kisses. It’s so hard not to squeeze this little thing with how much you love her. 

“So,” Wolffe grumbles, sounding gruff and sleepy, but peaceful. “You…you don’t think she's afraid of the scar?”

“Are you kidding,” You say gently, “Those eyes look pretty relaxed to me.” 

You smile, continuing to gaze into your daughter's face. Wolffe holding a milk bottle in his hand and feeding it to her with strong, steady hands. She almost doesn’t blink, the way she’s staring up at him, big eyes stretching uncomfortably wide to get a good look. Pure curiosity and interest swimming in her pupils. Her gaze flutters down his face minutely, before resting on his eyes again. It’s unbearably captivating, and you shake your head at her reaction to him. 

“If anything,” You add with a giggle, “I think she’s going, ‘damn, look at that scar. Nobody’s gonna mess with me with this guy around.”

A small grin spreads across Wolffe’s face, and despite the forced doubt in his tone, you know he’s eating every word up, “Yeah, I’m sure that’s exactly what she’s thinking.” He says with an eye roll. 

“That’s what I thought,” You tease, flashing him with that endearing smile he claims can win him over anything.

He huffs, but the grin on his face spreads to a full fledged smile as he glances over your features, “Like mother, like daughter, eh?” 

“Mhm.”

[starryevermore]

all those chickens ✧ commander wolffe

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

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

pairing: commander wolffe x fem!reader

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

word count: 1,835

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Weird flex but okay.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

…Right?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence. 

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

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

“Uhh…”

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

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

“Yes or no, trooper?” Wolffe barked. 

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

“What the kark is that supposed to mean?”

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

“Well, find her!” Wolffe snapped. 

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

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

“Warthog lost Y/N,“ he growled.

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

“She’s not—just, watch my six, okay?”

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But the baby—”

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

“Yes?”

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

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

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

And he meant every word. 

[bamfahsoka]

Change of Fate: Prologue.

Note: This is the first fan fic I've ever written, so be gentle with me! Haha😅❤️👍 No warnings for this. This is just a prologue to see if anyone at all is even interested in this. Even if I continue, I don't see this having any serious warnings. We'll see though, who knows!

It is a slow burn for sure, but eventually, it'll be a full-fledged Wolffe x Female Reader fic. We have to work through the angst and drama to get to the fluff😅👍 Anyways, I hope you enjoy, and let me know if I should continue!❤️❤️❤️

Life can be unfair and cruel, but it can also be joyful and full of love. As a Jedi general, you were well aware of the art of balance. One area you did struggle however, was the ‘no attachment’ aspect of your Jedi culture. The thought of hiding or suppressing your emotions and feelings for others always baffled you. You were taught that attachments would lead to the Dark Side; however, you feel as if you would be lost and more vulnerable to the Dark SIde without your attachments. The relationships you’ve built with your fellow Jedi reminded you what you were born and trained to do. However, more importantly were the relationships you built with your men of the 104th Battalion. Better known as the Wolfpack, this battalion was led by none other than Commander Wolffe himself. Like Master Plo Koon, you loved all of your men. From the shinies straight off Kamino, to the war-tested veterans such as SInker and Boost, you would die for them. However, there was one grumpy commander that did manage to steal a little more of your heart than the others. You kept your feelings for Wolffe to yourself, knowing that it was unlikely he would feel the same. It was only a life altering turn of events that made you see that there might be more to your relationship than you initially thought. 

Because the 104th had Master Plo, you were asked to temporarily step in as the acting general of the 501st when Anakin was sent on a mission by the Chancellor Palpatine himself. Though odd, no one thought twice about why the Chancellor would have a private mission for Anakin. You were excited to work with the boys in blue again! It was rare for the 104th and 501st to work together on deployments; but it had happened, and you remember it being entertaining to say the least. Wolffe complained about the behavior of a few of his brothers in the 501st more than once. You couldn't  help but giggle at the memory. 

You walked over to the 501st barracks and were welcomed by a very excited Hardcase. Not far behind him was Rex, Fives, Echo, Jesse, and Kix. After being given the most joyfully bone crushing hug from Hardcase, the rest of the men stopped in front of you. They all saluted with the most cheeky smiles on their faces, clearly entertained by their brother's antics. Rex of course was the first to refocus and greet you in his trademark professionalism. You thanked the Captain, and you all moved to prepare for the next deployment. Ringo Vinda…the hell hole that started you, the 501st, and the 104th down the road to changing the fate of the galaxy. 

[tommydarlings]

Boys? Men! | t.w

pairing: dom!toto x sub!reader

warnings: smut, chocking, blindfolding, inappropriate usage of a tie, spitting, ruined orgasm

w/c: 3k

summary: Dating Toto Wolff right after you broke up with Mick Schumacher is something you can definitely argue about, but you just realised that older man do it way better, especially jealous old man that are rather possessive over what's their's.

check this out: my masterlist <3 // my ko-fi to support me! <3 // my PayPal to support me! <3 // my Patreon to become a member! (get access to +45 works) <3 // Save a Life carrd made by me! <3

Honestly, you didn’t even wanted to put that black little dress on and drive in that old timer Mercedes with your boyfriend toto to this 'super important' event that he had to attend.

But since you’re his lovely girlfriend, you’ve decided to join your hardworking boyfriend.

And you definitely didn’t regret your choice as soon as you saw Michael Schumacher’s golden retriever son, mick.

You and mick had a tiny bit of… history. You’ve met each other through formula one — since you are actually a pretty well known photographer in the industry — got pretty close friends, hooked up multiple times, kind of acted like you were a couple but never put an actual label on it and then decided that staying normal friends would be the best option.

And none of you cared about the fact that the two of you got some history… not until you started dating his boss — right before he joined Mercedes—, Toto Wolff.

Was it maybe a tiny bit bold? Yes. Did you care what others had to say about it? No, not one bit. You didn’t even think about it that much.

But what you definitely do think about is walking up to mick now and starting a harmless conversation with him, tilting your head to the side before you set your champagne glass down and leaned into Toto’s touch,

“I'm gonna be right back, darling.” You mumbled into his ear after he bend down to hear you better.

He briefly stopped taking with some random, old dude you’ve never seen before, putting his attention onto you now. “Where are you going, Schatzi?” He asked you, furrowing his brows.

You cleared your throat, “I-I’m just gonna have a quick chat with somebody.” You replied as you looked up at him.

Toto clenched his jaw before he quickly threw his gaze in the big room, eyes scanning the place before they landed on mick on the other side off the room, making his lips turn upwards into a very tiny smirk before he looked down at your figure again, “Alright honey.” Briefly bending down to give you a quick peck before he turned around again and continued his conversation.

You gulped before you made your way over to mick, squeezing through a few people before you finally reached him, smiling at him as soon as he noticed you.

“Y/n, hey!,” mick started as he went in for a big hug, “What are you doing here? Supporting your man?” You nodded at his question, briefly checking him in that neat black and white suit that he’s wearing out before you put your eyes onto his face again.

“Yep, gotta be supportive, right?” You chuckled, slowly making your way over to him and leaned your back against the wall right next to his taller figure, turning your head to look at him.

“You’re here alone?” You asked him curiously.

He sighed as he put his hands into the pockets of his black slacks, “Why would you care?”

His answer suprised you a bit. You knew that the break up was mutual but you also knew that in the end it was always mick how wanted an 'us' more that you did. You gulped again,

“I don’t, I’m just curious mick.”

He briefly shook his head, “Yeah, s-sorry,” he whispered.

You looked up at him, “it’s okay,” you answered.

You removed your gaze from mick and looked across the room to put your eyes on your tall boyfriend standing at the other side of the room, still chatting with that random guy.

Mick briefly grinned before he cleared his throat, “I mean, as long as you love him, everything’s good, right?” He turned to face you again, seeing your grin now, desperately trying to hold a giggle in.

Your ex tilted his head to the side, “what’s so funny?”

Then you just shook your head before you started singing your's and mick's favourite song that you’ve danced to a dozen of times when the two of you were still together.

“As long as you love me,” you suddenly started imitating the backstreet boys's iconic song.

Mick chuckled at your obviously awful attempt to sing the song, “Who you are,” he continued.

“Where you’re from.”

“As looooooong as you loooooooove meereeeeeee.” He dragged out the o's in a rather loud manner, making you lean into his side and laugh into his chest as his head fell on top of yours, both of you squeezing your eyes shut as you just unstoppably laughed at your extremely bad singing voices.

But then, as soon as you opened your eyes, you were only able to see your boyfriend, Toto, spitting daggers your way, tightly holding his champagne glass before you removed your body from mick's warmth again.

You gulped before you looked up at the blond man, “I’m gonna go back to toto again, was very nice to see you tho, mick!” You told him as you slowly made your way over to your visibly angry looking boyfriend.

He nodded and smiled at you, “yep, no problem! See you, y/n!” He kindly answered before you turned around and went to the boss of your ex boyfriend, eyes only staring at the floor.

Toto cleared his throat as soon as you stood in front of him, silently forcing you to look up at him. You briefly bit your lip before you raised your head and looked at him.

“And? How was your little chat with your dear ex boyfriend?” He asked you in a rather mad tone. You rolled your eyes at his tone, making him quickly get a hold of your upper arm, pulling you closer to his body.

“Don’t roll your eyes at me and answer my question,” Toto told you harshly, making you gulp before you spoke up,

“It was good, funny,” you answered, making him grin.

“That’s what I’ve already guessed since you leaned your body so close to his after he told you some stupid joke.” You were only able to bite your inner cheek at his jealous behaviour, desperately having to stop yourself from rolling your eyes again.

“He just told me a joke, what’s your damn problem here?” You asked him in a mad tone, making the men that stood behind him turn around and take a long look at you.

“You’ve got a problem as well, or what?” You asked one of the man that stared at you like you’re an alien, making toto quickly turn around and apologise before he squeezed your upper arm even tighter and pushed your towards the exit of the big building, swiftly opening the car door of his black Mercedes before he basically threw you in the passenger seat, shutting the door in a harsh motion before he got into the drivers seat, starting the engine.

“That hurt, Toto,” you quietly told him. Toto briefly grinned, “That won’t be the only thing that will hurt tonight,” he mumbled very quietly as you furrowed your brows and gulped at his words.

- - -

The air was definitely very thick between the two of you as you entered the big mansion that Toto let you live in ever since you started dating him.

You quickly went to work and removed your black high heels from your feet, putting them aside as you watched Toto’s gaze following every single move of yours while he removed his blazer and loosened his black tie a bit before he pulled it down, keeping it in his hand.

Just when you wanted to make your way upstairs into the bedroom, toto stretched his long arm out and stopped your moving body by your stomach, not even looking at you when he spoke up,

“Where do you think you’re going, little one… huh?” He asked you in a deep tone, hand now slowly gliding up to your throat, gently wrapping it around your soft skin.

You slightly furrowed your brows before you gulped, “Upstairs, to change,” you answered innocently, but Toto’s hand only tightened around your throat, swiftly pulling your visibly tinier figure in front of his taller one, forcing your to look up at him.

Toto grinned at your answer, looking down at you with a gaze that you already knew all to well, pure anger and jealousy.

“You’re going nowhere tonight, baby,” he whispered before he put his big palm onto the back of your neck and forced you to walk with him towards the other side of the room, harshly pressing your body against the wall, immediately burying his nose into the back of your head.

Your formed your hands into fists as his mouth hovered above your ear, warm breath hitting your sensitive skin now.

“I asked you to come to this gala with me just so I could show all of my colleagues and friends what for a pretty little thing I got myself here,” he mumbled quietly into your ear from behind, slowly unbuttoning his black slacks now,

“But instead they saw what a disrespectful little brat I got myself here,” he finished off while you felt him pushing your thong to the side, exposing your wet cunt.

You whined in a high pitched tone as he swiped his long fingers through your pussy after he spit on them to wet them. Your eyes rolled into the back of your head as his hand was placed around your throat again, softly squeezing it as he watched your wet pussy, swallowing his finger as he shoved two of them into you.

You gasped as he started to thrust his fingers in and out, thumb caressing the side of your neck as he fucked you knuckles deep from behind, making your legs shake.

You leaned your head forward, forehead now pressed against the white wall, “F-Fuck, please t-toto,” you sniffled as tears formed in your eyes, orgasm already approaching you since you were already quite horny in the car,

“P-Please don’t stop…it f-feels so good, oh my g-god,” you whined in a high pitched tone before you heard toto chuckle at your words.

He briefly kissed the top of your head, “Tell me one logical reason why I should let you come right now, sweetheart,” he demanded in a rather kind tone, fingers only going faster by now.

You gasped as his movements got harder, legs already shaking, “I-I, please, I d-don’t know…but please!” You begged him loudly, not giving a damn if the neighbours hear you.

“You don’t know?” He asked you teasingly.

You shook your head, tears gliding down your heated cheeks, “N-No, I’m so s-sorry toto!” You whined pathetically, squeezing your eyes shut as his fingers suddenly slowed their movements down, making you gasp.

“N-No! P-please toto, I'm sorry-”

“Shut. Up., alright?” He tilted his head to the side as his finger left your begging cunt, legs still shaking from the now ruined orgasm.

With shaking legs you fell onto the hard wooden floor, palms balancing your now visibly weak figure while you sniffled, only noticing in the corner of your with tears filled eye how toto sighed before he bend down and brushed some of your hair out of your face.

Tie still clutched in his hand, Toto looked down into you eyes, slightly smirking as he saw how glassy they actually are.

Then, after calming down a tiny bit, toto stood up again, towering in front of your now kneeling figure as he let his black tie dangle in front of your face — smiling as your small grin fell, fresh tears covering your vision again.

“I don’t think that you deserve to see me, schatzi,” toto mumbled in quiet tone, slowly brushing your messy hair behind your ear before he leaned forward and put the tie around your head, covering your vision with the expansive piece of clothing.

You gasped as he glided his fingertips over your neck and down to your shoulder blades, thumb still drawing unknown figures on your heated skin as he spoke up,

“Get up.”

You gulped at his demanding tone but quickly got up and played with your fingers due the nervousness you were currently feeling. Toto got a hold of your waist then and guided you towards — what you’ve guessed — another room. And your guess was right as soon as he turned your body around, picked you up and placed you onto the cold surface of the kitchen counter.

You bit your lip as he spread your legs, quickly removing your bottom lip from in between your teeth again as you suddenly felt him kissing your stomach, making his way towards your begging pussy which was still extremely wet.

“You know, sweetheart,” Toto began as he kissed his way around your pussy lip but then going up your thighs again,

“I though you wanted someone who’s mature and earns a lot of money and is, well… visibly older than you because you just love being seen as the pretty little girl that got herself the rich old man, the CEO of the Mercedes formula one team, you know?” You only nodded and gulped as his lips got closer to your pussy.

“But then you leave my side and walk over to,” he made a brief pause to use his fingers to spread your pussy lips, fingertip of his pointer finger now gently touching your clit, “this immature, young, almost 'no-name' boy and laugh with him and touch him and stare at him like he’s the love of your life,” he told you quietly before he spit on your clit, letting his spit run down to your entrance.

His fingertips were only teasing your clit now even more, spreading the spit all over your clit and entrance, “that’s pretty pathetic if you ask me, baby,” he mumbled under his breath, fingertips now leaving your wet pussy before he blew some air on your clit, making your legs shake again and gasp.

You swallowed and sniffled at his feather light touches and breath that was hitting your clit at the moment, “O-Oh my god,” you whined loudly, “Please toto, I l-love you,” you gasped again as he leaned forward and gave your clit a peck, “I o-only love a-and want you, y-you know-”

“Do I? Do I really know that?” Fingertips only gently touching your big clit now, teasing it as tears made their way down your red cheeks, some falling down your temple, some landing in your open mouth.

He cleared his throat, “Because if I know that — like you claim I do — then you should know, that you should have never even started this conversation with your ex boyfriend, you know how much I hate seeing you with oth-,” he briefly stopped, tongue touching your clit now as he moaned at your taste, briefly spitting on it again before he ran the tip of his tongue all over your clit, “boy's, because they are no men yet.”

You whined in a high pitched tone as he closed his mouth around your clit, sucking on it and flicking it with the tip of his tongue, basically making you see stars while your tears of pleasure and slight pain were still covering your vision — and the black tie, of course.

Your hands gripped the side of the counter as he shook his head from side to side, tongue not leaving your drenching wet pussy for one single second, making entire body shake and fall slightly forward.

“Toto, c-can I-, fuck! O-Oh my g-god, can I p-please see you a-again, please!” You cried out while he didn’t stop eating your pussy like a starved man, groaning and moaning into it, sending strong vibrations through your begging cunt.

Toto briefly removed his head after sucking on your clit for a few seconds, spreading your legs even further apart, almost forcing your knees to touch your collarbone before he went back in to eat you out, slurping your juice up and lapping onto your clit like his life depends on it, quietly humming a low 'mhh, mhh' into your pussy, basically telling you 'no'.

Obviously, you whined as you heard his answer as a new orgasm approached you, tears already staining the black tie that’s still covering your vision. You gasped before your fingers left the kitchen counter and tangled themselves into his hair, slightly pulling his mouth more and more into your pussy.

He briefly looked up at you, flashing you a quick smirk before he started to flick your poor clit with his tongue at an almost unimaginable pace, making you cry out,

“Can I-I please cum, t-toto…please,” you begged in a high pitched tone as your legs started to shake again, fingers gripping his hair now even tighter as the tears only continued to run down your temple.

“I wanna c-cuuuuum,” you cried out as Toto’s movements got even sloppier, making it even harder for you to hold everything back.

He quickly squeezed your thigh to grab your attention since you're slowly falling into subspace, “Tell me you're mine and mine only and I let you cum,” he mumbled into your pussy before he shook his head from side to side again.

You screamed as you almost choked on your tears as he did that again but quickly focusing on your answer since you really needed to cum.

“I-I am yours, toto,” you took a deep breath before you continued, “I'm all y-yours, and yours o-only…I p-promise!” You almost screamed at the top of your lungs as you felt your entire body starting to shake.

Before you came all over his mouth, you saw him smiling like a proud boyfriend, slowly nodding at your answer, “Then you may cum, pretty girl,” he whispered right before he licked all of your cum up, spitting some of it onto your clit but also swallowing some of it, groaning as he did so.

He kissed his way up your things before he stood up and wiped his lips with the back of his hand, looking down at you.

You sniffled as you tried to calm your shaking legs down but nothing helped, as your boyfriend noticed that, he put his arms around you and put your head on his chest, stroking your head.

“Shh, it’s okay… I’ve got you, I always do, don’t it? I’m yours…just like you’re mine.” He told you in a bit of deeper tone, clearly implying the situation with mick. You looked up at him,

“I love you.”

“Oh baby, I love you too,” he whispered, kissing the top of your head.

[sebscore]

THE PRIZE THAT KEEPS ON GIVING 

pairings: jenson button x driver!reader / lewis hamilton x driver!reader / susie wolff x driver!reader / toto wolff x driver!reader / sebastian vettel x driver!reader / mick schumacher x driver!reader / kimi raikkonen x driver!reader

warnings: talk about getting drunk. a drunk kimi. swearing. the host is made up cause I couldn't find the name of the person that actually does it lol. 

author's note: idk how these award ceremonies go but then again all of this is fiction so just be delulu with me :) also, not me posting fics about the fia gala consecutively.

masterlist

• • • • • • •

''Welcome our rookie of the year, Y/N Y/L.'' The host called her up on the stage, the other attendees clapping for her as she got up from her seat. 

It hadn't been her first time on the FIA Prize Giving stage, having collected her Formula 3 European Championship trophy two years earlier. Despite having done this before, the young woman felt nervous and uncomfortable with all the eyes on her. 

She thanked the person giving her the award, anxiously smiling at the audience. Y/N found the comforting eyes of Susie in the crowd, the older woman giving her a supportive nod. 

''Y/N, thank you for being here and congratulations on being named the FIA Rookie of the Year.'' David praised her, a semi-genuine smile on his face. 

She bowed her head. ''Thank you so much.'' 

''You had a very great year, a podium and P7 in the championship standing- best of the midfield- has everything sunken in yet?'' He asked, holding the microphone up to her mouth . 

''It's really crazy, to be honest. You know, I was already happy with just scoring points in Australia, but to, uh, have made it on the podium as well… just crazy- I'm, uh, very happy with how my first season went.'' She answered, stuttering over her words a few times. 

David nodded along to her words, subtly taking a look at his notes. ''Barely two weeks ago, you shared your first podium with Lewis and Sebastian in Abu Dhabi,'' the host pointed at the two men in the audience, the both of them caught off guard by the sudden mention of their names, ''they're the World Champion and Vice-Champion of this season, how did it feel to share the podium with them?'' 

''Uh, you know- pretty great,'' her slow response garnered some chuckles from the crowd, ''they're legends of our sport so I felt very honoured to have been up there with them, especially to end the season.'' Y/N gave herself an encouraging nod at the end of her response. 

''You said after the race that the two of them were your childhood idols, and they have also given you several praises throughout the season, but there is also another person you looked up to as a child, right?'' The rookie could feel there was something coming up as David looked at her with a smirk on his face, but she was clueless as to what it was. 

Her confused face amused all of the attendees, a chorus of laughter being heard and making her even more nervous. ''Oh- I don't like that look on your face.'' She joked, the laughter growing at her response. 

''Well, Y/N- a certain someone might have informed us about an interview you did about 7 years ago when you were 11 years-old,'' David grinned, Y/N giving him a puzzled look, ''in which you said and I quote: 'I want to become a Formula 1 driver, win a World Championship and marry Jenson Button.' Does that ring any bells?'' 

As soon as the last words were said, Y/N turned her back to the audience and covered her gaping mouth, shocked they would bring this up after all the time that had passed. 

All of the attendees were having the time of their life as they saw the obvious embarrassment on the girl's face despite her trying to cover it up. 

Y/N almost tried to make a run for it, but was stopped by David who held onto her arm. ''You're not going anywhere, we're not done yet.'' He snickered, taking another look at his cards. 

''Unfortunately, Jenson is not here tonight, but we do have something else for you.'' David smirked, motioning his arm to the projector behind them- the face of Jenson appearing on the big screen. 

''Hello, everyone! I couldn't be there due to other engagements, but I just wanted to congratulate Y/N on her wonderful rookie season and for being awarded 'Rookie of the Year' tonight,'' Jenson's self-made video played, Y/N watching in shock that this was actually happening. 

''I was made aware of your aspirations to marry me,'' she could see him holding back a huge grin, ''unfortunately, I'm not single so I'm afraid that I'll have to turn the offer down, but I'm very flattered by your confidence and determination of your 11 year-old self.'' Jenson laughed, his infamous smile making an appearance. 

''Anyway- I wish you good luck for the next season and I'm sure it will be even better than this one! Again, congratulations and I hope you enjoy your evening! Bye bye!'' He bids her goodbye and the screen goes back to black. 

Y/N slowly turns back around, her perplexed expression entertaining everyone in the crowd. She was feeling a mix of emotions; disbelief, happiness and also humiliation. 

''You like the surprise, Y/N?'' David asked her, containing himself from bursting out in laughter. 

He held the mic up to her face, but for several moments she didn't say anything, staring mindlessly at nothing. ''I'm, uh, well, that was, uh,'' she stumbled over her words, trying not to curse as it was still a formal event. 

''She's speechless, ladies and gentlemen.'' David interrupted her, making everyone laugh again. ''You didn't expect that, did you?'' 

''No, I did not expect that, David.'' Y/N answers more clearly, her blunt tone resulting in some loud cackles being heard- she swore she recognized Lewis among them. 

''Alright- well, we're going to round it up here, but you're going to celebrate your season well tonight?'' He finished the interview with his last question. 

The young woman nodded her head. ''Yeah, I'm gonna drink all night to forget this.'' She responded, another symphony of laughter and snickering being heard through the large space. 

''That's really great, Y/N- everyone, a round of applause for our Rookie of the Year, Y/N Y/L!'' The female driver walked as quickly as she could in heels off the stage, making her way back to her table.

Since she was still part of the Mercedes Junior Program, she had been seated with Susie, Toto and Lewis, along with a bunch of other Mercedes employees. 

''You've really brightened the place up, Y/N.'' Susie told her the moment she sat down on her chair, a big smile on her face. 

She jokingly rolled her eyes at the older woman, staring down at her own hands in her lap. A hand tapping her arm made her look up. ''Here,'' Lewis handed her a glass of what seemed to be champagne, ''I think you can use this.'' He sheepishly smiled. 

''I've never felt this embarrassed in my life.'' She took the glass and gulped it down in one go, loudly placing the empty glass back down on the table. 

''Don't drink too fast!'' Toto scolded her, not coming across as stern since he was laughing. ''You don't want to end up like Kimi over there.'' The Team Principal pointed at the Ferrari table where a drunk Kimi Raikkonen was trying to put Sebastian in a headlock. 

''It's his Finnish blood.'' Y/N argued, filling up her glass again. 

''It was you, wasn't it?'' There could have been only one person that informed the host about Y/N's past infatuation with the British driver, and during the break she went over to his table and confronted him about it. 

Sebastian flinched at the sudden hand on his shoulder, but smiled as he took notice of who it was. Once he internalised her words, he feigned innocence. ''What do you mean? You think that I would tell anyone about Jenson?'' The teasing smirk of the Ferrari driver was one she wanted to slap from his face, but it was all in good fun. 

''Dude, that was so embarrassing!'' She slapped his arm, grabbing the attention of Hanna who sat next to him. ''Can you believe it, Hanna? I was mortified.'' Y/N turned towards the woman. 

''I knew it as soon as Jenson's face appeared, he was giggling like a schoolgirl.'' His partner nudged him with her elbow, Sebastian put his hands up in defeat. 

''Come on, Y/N- you have to admit it was a great surprise.'' A small sprinkle of doubt had planted itself in the back of his mind, maybe it wasn't a good idea after all and she would be upset with him. 

His panic of doubt was washed away as a genuine smile found its way to Y/N's face. ''It will be a nice story in a few years so thanks for that, I guess.'' Yes, she had felt incredibly ashamed, but she had also received a personal video message from her childhood crush so in her opinion, there was a good balance. 

''Uh, have you seen Mick? I haven't talked to him tonight.'' She asked the couple, wanting to check up on her friend. 

Hanna shook her head, while Sebastian pointed towards the door that led to the hallways. ''I think he went to the bathroom.'' He replied. 

''Thanks, I'll see you two later.'' Y/N bid them goodbye, smiling at both of them before disappearing into the hallways to find the young Schumacher. 

She waited against the wall across from the men's bathroom, her awkward stance must have made other people call her an idiot in their own minds. After a few minutes of looking like a weirdo, the German finally came out of the bathroom. 

''What the fuck were you doing in there?'' Y/N surprised him, he didn't expect to find her waiting for him. 

Mick took a deep breath to calm down, his friend had scared him good. ''Jesus Christ, what the fuck.'' His hand rested on his heart. 

''You can just call me Y/N, Mickie.'' She winked at him. 

'You idiot,'' he smiled, taking a step forward and pulling her in a quick hug, ''congrats on the award, by the way.'' 

''Thank you, I appreciate it.'' 

Mick chuckled. ''You know, I had totally forgotten about your crush on Jenson! It's been so long since I last heard about it.'' The German remembered all the times his friend would dream out loud about her 'future marriage' to the British driver. 

''I had forgotten about it too, until Seb decided I needed a good reminder.'' Y/N said, sarcastically making him laugh. 

The youngest Schumacher was about to reply, but was interrupted by a certain Ferrari driver. 

''Hey, Y/N! If you want to marry Jenson, you can marry Jenson! I'll be there to support you!'' Kimi wrapped his arms around Mick and Y/N's shoulders, holding them close to him. 

The young woman held in her laughter, simply patting his chest. ''Thanks, Kimi. I'll remember that.'' 

The Fin looked from her to Mick. ''Too bad, man! I know how much you like her!'' He ruffled the guy's hair, a sad expression on his face to convey his sympathy for Mick. 

Both youngsters widened their eyes, one in shock and the other in embarrassment. ''Okay- it was good to see you, Kimi!'' The Prema driver lightly pushed him away, his cheeks colouring red. 

''I can help you if- Hey, Jean!'' Kimi took notice of Jean Todt on the other side of the hallway and walked over there, leaving the two of them alone again. 

Y/N glanced at Mick who was avoiding her eyes. ''You want to tell me something, Schumacher?'' She smirked. 

''I think I need to go to the bathroom again.''

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[httpsserene]

Heyy, i was wondering if you could do an Toto wolff x reader. I was thinking kitchen sex?? Like Toto getting turned on because he found out that reader was trying to make him his beloved pumpernickel bread for breakfast. I’ve been seeing tiktoks of Toto and his love for pumpernickel bread, and was just wondering if you could write abt it, though it’s TOTALLY ok if you don’t. Sorry if this was a little messy, this is my first time rqsting something. ♥️

𝐭𝐨𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐲 𝐰/𝐭. 𝐰𝐨𝐥𝐟𝐟

📖𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: you make toto his favorite bread. he’s going to thank you for this surprise properly. 📖𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁 𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴: 18+ only. explicit. implied age gap. kitchen sex. rambling about bread. unprotected sex. vaginal sex. morning sex. reader and toto are married. beta-read. 📖𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.2k words 📖𝗽𝗮𝗶𝗿𝗶𝗻𝗴: toto wolff x fem!black!reader 📖𝗴𝗲𝗻𝗿𝗲: oneshot. 📖𝘀𝗼𝘂𝗻𝗱𝘁𝗿𝗮𝗰𝗸: can't take my eyes off of you (i love you baby) • lauryn hill

𝗽𝗿𝗲𝗳𝗮𝗰𝗲: can you tell i did way to much research on the types of pumpernickel bread? no, well, i don’t care 🙂 i WAS NOT familiar with toto wolff and pumpernickel bread so a quick youtube search opened my eyes to it and uh what can i say, this was born. ALSO: i feel like i’ve self-diagnosed myself; i am ashamed to admit that my kink might be somebody making me their wife…because why can’t i go one fic without making the reader be referenced to as a wife (m sorry i crave love). i honestly feel like it could be better, but y’know i hope i did your request justice (sorry it took me so long, ktober beat my ass). anon! i hope you see this, and i hope all the toto wolff lovers enjoy !!!

the yellow dish gloves on your hands protect your brown skin from most of the heat of the scalding tap water. the sound of your hums airily reverberate within the high ceilings of your open-plan kitchen as you clean the expensive dishes you’ve dirtied. you’ve taken off your wedding ring and placed it on top of your phone in the middle of the island to avoid any possibility of it falling down the drain or getting damaged. 

you woke up a little after dawn, quickly shutting off your alarm to avoid waking up your husband; it’s the off season for him, you won’t wake him up at insane hours when he’s not needed to work. sneaking out of bed was a battle of its own—there were several close calls as you struggled to slip out of the tight hold of the austrian man. it took seven minutes for you to escape his warm embrace, but you made it through by thinking of the surprise you were going to cook up for Toto—or bake up for him. it’s no secret to anybody that the mercedes team principal loves pumpernickel bread, and that he’s very particular about how he likes it. of course, there’s no way you would be able to make the traditional german pumpernickel bread before he woke up—it takes fourteen hours to cook and it needs to rest for an entire day to allow it to form properly into its crunchy, cookie-like consistency. so, you decided to make the simplified recipe that only takes roughly an hour and a half to bake and prepare, while the original takes its time cooking. your husband will have to be happy with the more loaf-like treat until his preferred bread is ready. you’ve never been more thankful to have two ovens. 

everything went well. both breads are prepped and baking away at their respective temperatures, and you’re carefully attempting to clean up the mess you’ve made in the process. you may not have been quiet enough based on the footsteps you hear heading your way. Toto pauses in the doorway and you smile, not needing to turn around to see the baffled expression on his face. you turn the faucet off and grab the cloth resting on the oven handle to dry your hands, “good morning, bär. slept well?” you teased gently with a small smile in Toto’s direction. you take an appraising glance of his form; he’s only wearing this pair of pajama pants covered in the mercedes logo (George gifted him those when the team did secret santa last year; Toto said he’d never wear them), leaving his toned torso exposed for your viewing pleasure, sleep lines from his pillow are still faint along his left cheek, and his hair is ruffled like he’s been running his hands through it. your husband nods half-heartedly, and blinks in confusion as he takes in the sight of you in the kitchen.

you're wearing one of his white button-up shirts—half of the buttons are fastened, the sleeves are rolled up and cuffed right above your elbow. you aren’t wearing a bra based on the way he can see how your nipples are pebbled through the shirt, and he assumes you’re only wearing underwear based on your bare legs. your feet are warmed by a pair of black, fuzzy house slippers, the bottom of the shirt rests along the middle of your thighs, and the collar is shifted to the side exposing your collarbone. your hair is free, allowed to rest however it wants to on this winter morning. he starts, making to finally enter the space of the kitchen and give you a proper morning greeting, but notices a smudge of flour along your jawline. and then he sees the baking utensils gathered in the sink, and a rich aroma starts to permeate the air. it smells slightly like coffee and slightly like dark chocolate—it’s sweet. then, it dawned on Toto, you’re baking pumpernickel bread. for him. his heart flutters; you usually sleep as late into the morning as possible, but today, you woke up at an insane hour just to make him his favorite bread from scratch. you’ve always teased him for how difficult he acts about his breakfast treat yet you sacrificed hours of sleep to please him. Toto’s mushy mindset is broken, as you cock your head at him, wondering why he hasn’t responded to you, and the collar of his your shirt shifts and falls to expose the top of your chest. mmm, yes, he should thank you properly.

you don’t even have time to register toto crossing the space between you, before your lips are interlocked in a passionate kiss. a shocked squeal is muffled against toto’s lips, as his large hands hold your waist steady, and your own hand flies up to hold his head. your other hand rises to tap at his chest frantically, as you begin to run out of air, and toto pulls away with an amused chuckle. dazedly, your hand on his chest pulls back to touch your lips, like you needed further verification that he just kissed you. 

Toto smirks, “good morning, schatz.”

you nod unsteadily, “yes—g-good morning.”

your husband laughs louder at your stutter, and tugs you into his chest for a proper hug, rubbing at the nape of your neck with a heavy hand. the two of you stand tangled in the middle of the kitchen, uncaring of how many seconds fly by, and your eyes flutter shut at the relaxing motion of Toto’s massaging hands. 

“i’m going to fuck you on the island, now, “ Toto informs you kindly.

you startle, pulling your head back to stare up at him with wide eyes. his gaze is serious, and you can’t help how your cheeks warm under his attention.

“well…” you murmur, “i’m not going to say no.”

from there, it’s all a rushed haze. you go from having two feet firmly planted on the tiled floor to being lifted and placed on the marble island as toto speeds through unbuttoning your collared shirt. you try to shrug it off, but Toto halts your motions firmly telling you to leave it on. you hum absently and pull him into a kiss. Toto moans into your mouth, and the sound has your hips bucking forwarding to grind against the bulge in his pants. his hands reaches for your left hip and assists you in grinding against him, and a sigh of pleasure parts your lips. the austrian eagerly slips his tongue into your mouth, and he tastes a bit of sugar from whatever you snacked on while making his bread. oddly, that causes more of his blood to rush south and he breaks the kiss to lean back and tug your panties off. 

you simultaneously pull his pajama pants down, and squirm happily at the fact that he slept without boxers. Toto gently guides you to lie back on the countertop, and coos softly when you shiver from the cold surface; he’ll warm you up soon. he pulls your panties off from where they were dangling around your right ankle and drops them to the floor, kicking them to the side along with his pants. tugging you forward, your ass rests on the edge of the counter and he leans down to press kisses on your throat.

moaning highly, you crane your neck to expose its full length to his mercy. your right hand tangles in his hair to guide him exactly where you want, your left hand holds at his shoulder for support, with your nails digging into the meat of his muscles. Toto pauses, and pulls back to grab your left hand. a broken whine falls from your lips, and you buck your hips upward searching for friction, the slide of his cock along your folds feels delicious. his knees buckle at the sensation, and he forces your hips back down with his free hand, as he pulls your left hand in front of him to look at it.

“where’s your ring, liebling?” Toto asks, warm eyes focused on your bare ring finger. you laugh disbelievingly, amused and surprised at the fact that he managed to feel the absence of your wedding ring, and pull your hand out of his grasp smoothly. you reach behind you and pluck your ring from its spot on top of your phone, and slide it back on your finger. brandishing your ringed-hand in his eyeline, you impatiently try and buck your hips upward to no avail, his one-handed hold on you is unbreakable. 

“okay! fuck me—now, please,” you demand desperately.

Toto hushes you, and holds your left hand steady. he stares into your eyes as he presses a kiss on the wedding ring he bestowed you with. your cheeks burn hot, and you roll your eyes as if your heart didn’t liquify at the show of devotion. your husband guides himself to your entrance, and pushes in carefully—thankful he fucked you open last night. you whimper softly, tender and sore, but you nod frantically to encourage Toto to push further in. he groans throatily as he bottoms out, throwing his head back in pleasure, and your moan harmonizes at the feeling of fullness. the stretch burns slightly, but you’re more focused on achieving an orgasm than the space he caves out in your walls. 

you squeeze your knees around his waist, and grind up on him to encourage him to move. Toto grabs your left leg, bringing it to rest over his shoulder, while your right leg remains resting on his waist, both fuzzy slippers falling from your feet at the movement. it has him sliding slightly deeper inside you, and a spark of pleasure races up your spine. Toto begins to thrust, setting a quick pace from the get go. he fucked you open eight hours ago and the tightness of your cunt has him considering that he didn’t fuck you well enough. the bruises in the shape of his hands on your hips suggest differently. it’s ridiculous, how lost the two you get in each other’s bodies. your moans are punched out of you with every thrust, his cock dragging against your most pleasurable spot every time he sinks in you. Toto should be embarrassed at how quickly this is ending, but your sounds are too erotic for there to be any other outcome. 

he lays his hand on your navel, gently adding pressure over where he’s reaching inside of you, while his thumb circles rapidly over your clit. your back arches sharply as you screech from the unexpected flare of pleasure, raking your nails down his back in thin red lines as you cum at the added stimulation. it’s a multitude of sensations and emotions that had you hurtling over the edge quicker than you thought possible, and Toto has no choice but to follow you into the abyss, unable to hold back his orgasm at the unbearably hot and wet grasp of your cunt. your husband rocks into you through the afterglow, pausing only when you start to whimper in too much, and not feeling good. staring up at toto with a blissed-out smile and half-lidded eyes, you sigh sweetly as he slips out and leans down to kiss you again. the press of his lips is syrupy sweet and you find yourself getting lost under the feeling of him pouring his love and devotion into you—even though you don’t need the reminder—and the timer you’ve set on your phone blares jarringly causing you and toto to jump apart, startled. 

“what the fuck,” Toto deadpans as you scramble around to turn off the alarm. 

you sigh in relief once the aggravating sound is silenced, and nudge at Toto’s hip with your foot, “well—don’t just stand there! get the bread out before it burns!”

the austrian huffs exaggeratedly, like it’s such a chore, and pulls on the oven mitts to take out the pumpernickel bread adaptation after you direct him to the proper oven, not wanting him to disturb the traditional bread baking. the sight of the known headphone-smashing, hothead mercedes team principal completely naked spare for a pair of oven mitts is amusing, enough that you can’t quiet your snort, uncaring of how Toto glares at you. he places the baking tin on the cooling rack you set to the side, and hums happily at the aroma—even though it’s a far cry from the usual bread he prefers. like the oaf he is, Toto reaches to pull a piece of the fresh pumpernickel to eat, but with lightning quick speed you reach over and slap his hand away before he defiles the bread. 

“aht aht! what do you think you're doing? it needs at least forty-five minutes to cool before you can take a slice,” you scold the grown man.

Toto pouts (astounding, honestly), and then he brightens considerably, a sleazy smirk spreading across his lips, “ah? we have time for a second round then, maybe three…” you laugh hysterically, ignoring the way your stomach flips pleasingly at the suggestion, and slide off the counter, buttoning up your collared shirt, and you bend down to pick up the discarded pieces of clothing lying on the floor, “there’s no way you manage to get hard twice in forty-five minutes, old man–” Toto balks at your words–he’s really not old, or at least not that old, “–however, it’s enough time to finish washing the dishes you distracted me from doing.”

taglist: @saintslewi@cherry2stems@lorarri@inloveallthetime@mindless-rock@biancathecool@barnestatic @my-ylenia @katekipshidze @darleneslane @lovingaphroditesworld @smoothopz

© httpsserene2023

[hookhausenschips]

I’ll Be There

Masterlist

Summary: In the high-pressure world of Formula One, Toto Wolff, head of Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team, develops feelings for Y/N, a young engineer stuck in a toxic relationship. Despite their age gap, Toto supports Y/N as she finds the courage to break free. Together, they navigate the challenges ahead, strengthened by their bond.

Word Count: 1,512

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Reblog if you enjoyed!

———————————————————

Third Person POV

Toto Wolff leaned against the railing of the Mercedes-AMG Petronas Formula One Team garage, his gaze fixed on the sleek silver car as it roared past him on the track. The sounds of the bustling pit lane faded into the background as his mind wandered, thoughts drifting to the one person who occupied his thoughts more than anything else: Y/N. Y/N, the 23-year-old engineer who had captured Toto's heart from the moment he met her.

She was a bright, determined young woman, with a passion for Formula One that matched his own. But behind her bright smile and sharp intellect, Toto could see the shadows lurking in her eyes, the weight of a toxic relationship bearing down on her.

Their age gap was something that Toto had grappled with since the moment he realized his feelings for Y/N. At 52, he was more than twice her age, and while age was just a number, he couldn't ignore the inherent power dynamics at play. He had seen the way Y/N's partner, a fellow engineer on the team, belittled her and controlled her, a weapon to assert dominance.

But despite the obstacles they faced, Toto couldn't deny the connection that existed between them. It was as if they were two pieces of a puzzle, perfectly matched in every way. And though their age gap sometimes filled him with doubt, he knew that their bond was stronger than any societal expectations.

As he watched the team's mechanics swarm over the car, preparing it for the upcoming race, Toto couldn't shake the feeling of unease that gnawed at him. He had tried to be there for Y/N, offering support and encouragement whenever he could, but he knew that breaking free from a toxic relationship was never easy.

It was late at night when Toto finally returned home, exhaustion weighing heavily on his shoulders. The house was quiet as he stepped inside, the only sound was the soft hum of the air conditioning. But as he made his way through the empty rooms, he felt a sense of emptiness settle over him.

He missed Y/N, the warmth of her presence, and the lightness of her laughter. But even more than that, he worried about her. He knew that she was struggling, trapped in a relationship that was slowly suffocating her spirit. And try as he might, Toto couldn't shake the feeling that he was failing her.

As the days turned into weeks, Toto found himself increasingly preoccupied with thoughts of Y/N. He longed to reach out to her, to offer her the support and comfort that she so desperately needed. But he knew that he had to tread carefully, that pushing too hard could push her away.

Toto was walking through the bustling paddock of the Circuit de Monaco, his mind preoccupied with the intricacies of the upcoming race. As he turned a corner, he nearly collided with Y/N, who was hurrying past with a determined look on her face."Y/N," Toto called out, his voice a mixture of surprise and delight.

Y/N stopped in her tracks, her eyes widening in astonishment as she turned to face him. "Toto," she exclaimed, a hint of a smile playing on her lips. "What are you doing here?"

Toto chuckled softly, the sound reverberating through the air between them. "The same thing you are, I presume - preparing for the race weekend."

Y/N nodded a playful glint in her eyes. "I suppose we are rivals then, aren't we?" Toto's lips curved into a wry smile. "Indeed, but that doesn't mean we can't be civil," he replied, his gaze softening as he looked at her.

As they stood there, exchanging banter amidst the hustle and bustle of the paddock, Toto felt a sense of ease wash over him. In Y/N's presence, the pressures of his job seemed to fade into the background, replaced by a warmth and comfort he hadn't felt in a long time.

But just as quickly as the moment had come, it was gone, as Y/N's attention was diverted by a colleague calling her name. With a regretful smile, she excused herself, disappearing into the crowd before Toto could say another word.

As the race weekend unfolded, Toto found himself unable to shake the memory of his encounter with Y/N. Her presence lingered in his thoughts, distracting him at the most unexpected moments. Try as he might to focus on the task at hand, he couldn't help but wonder what might have been if circumstances were different.

Then, on the final day of the race weekend, fate intervened once again. Toto was standing on the pit wall, his eyes fixed on the track below as the cars roared past in a blur of speed and excitement. Suddenly, his attention was drawn to a commotion in the paddock below, where he spotted Y/N engaged in a heated argument with her boyfriend.

Unable to ignore the sinking feeling in his chest, Toto descended from the pit wall and made his way towards them, his heart pounding in his chest. As he approached, he caught snippets of their conversation - accusations, recriminations, hurtful words flung back and forth like daggers.

Toto felt a surge of anger and protectiveness towards Y/N, his instinct to shield her from harm overwhelming any sense of caution or restraint. Without a second thought, he stepped between them, his voice firm as he addressed her boyfriend. "That's enough," he said, his tone brooking no argument. "You have no right to treat her this way."

Y/N's boyfriend recoiled his expression with a mixture of surprise and indignation. "And who are you to tell me how to treat my girlfriend?" he retorted, his voice laced with disdain.

Toto held his ground, his gaze unwavering as he met the other man's stare. "I'm someone who cares about her," he replied simply, his words weighted with sincerity.

For a moment, there was silence between them, the tension crackling in the air like electricity. Then, to Toto's surprise, Y/N's boyfriend scoffed, turning on his heel and stalking away without another word.

Toto watched him go, his chest heaving with the effort to control his emotions. Then, as he turned to face Y/N, he found her standing before him, her eyes shining with gratitude and something else - something that made his heart skip a beat.

"Thank you, Toto," she said, her voice soft as she reached out to touch his arm. "I don't know what I would have done without you."

Toto swallowed hard, the lump in his throat threatening to choke him. "You don't have to thank me," he replied, his voice husky with emotion. "I'll always be here for you, Y/N. No matter what."

And as they stood there, bathed in the glow of the setting sun, Toto knew in that moment that he would do anything - all the things her man wouldn't do - to protect her, to cherish her, to love her in a way she deserved. For Y/N was more than just a colleague or a rival - she was the missing piece of his heart, the one he had been searching for all along. And he would do whatever it took to make her his.

It was on a cool autumn afternoon that Toto received a text message that would change everything. It was from Y/N, her words tentative yet filled with hope. She had finally found the courage to leave her toxic relationship behind, to break free from the chains that had bound her for so long.

Toto felt a surge of relief wash over him as he read Y/N's message. But amidst the joy and the relief, there was also a sense of apprehension. He knew that the road ahead would be difficult for Y/N and that she would need all the support she could get.

And so, with a determined set to his jaw, Toto reached for his phone and dialed Y/N's number. As she picked up on the second ring, he could hear the weariness in her voice, the echoes of the battles she had fought, and the scars she had endured.

"Y/N," Toto said softly, his heart pounding in his chest. "I'm here for you. Whatever you need, whatever you want, I'll do it. Just say the word."

There was a moment of silence on the other end of the line, and Toto held his breath, waiting for Y/N's response. And then, finally, she spoke, her voice filled with emotion. "Thank you, Toto," she said, her words a whispered promise. "I don't know what I would do without you."

Toto felt a smile spread across his face as he listened to Y/N's words. At that moment, he knew that no matter what the future held, they would face it together. And as he hung up the phone, a sense of peace settled over him, knowing that he had finally found his place in the world.

[monzaaasharl]

Could you do fic for Toto Wolff with wife reader? She's a musician. Saying ''i love you'' in-between kisses and playing with their partner's hair after a busy week. Then, their child, Jack joins them when they're dancing together. Add something else to it if it's not right. Just something fluff and sweet. Tag me later. Thanks!!!

Music to my ears

A/n: This is kinda cute tho wtf

Pairing:: Toto Wolff x Wife! Reader

Genre:: fluff

@pear-1206

Y/n was humming a melody softly to herself as she was trying to imagine how the song sounded when she heard someone coming through the front door.

"We're back!" Her husband announced as he'd just picked Jack up from school.

"I'm upstairs!" She shouted to let him know where you were.

She sighed in annoyance because these notes just weren't matching up, and she was too tired for this.

"What's wrong?" Toto asked out of concern.

"It's so difficult, it doesn't sound like how I want it too" She complained.

"Play it for me, I'll tell you if it sounds good"

Reluctantly, she decided to let him listen to what she'd done so far and she played the recording.

It was only instrumental at the moment, she hadn't figured out any lyrics yet, that was always the most tricky part for her.

Toto looks over at her and signalled to her to stand up and walk into his arms, she did so without second thought.

She wrapped her arms around the back of his neck, and he wrapped his around her waist. Slowly swaying in each other's arms whilst listening to the song playing in the background.

He kissed the top of her head as they slow danced.

"I love you so much, my dear", he spoke in an almost whisper.

She felt her cheeks heat up from his comment despite having heard it everyday for many years.

"I love you too, my love", she replied giving him a soft kiss on the lips.

Meanwhile, Jack came running in and wrapped his arms around both of their legs. Toto bent down to pick him up, and placed him on his hip.

Jack leaned his lead into the crook of his father's neck, tired after a long day at school.

Y/n dropped her head onto her husband's shoulder and looked at her sleepy son with a smile on her face.

Toto looked back at her with an equally happy look and kissed her softly, however Jack didn't seem to like this.

"Daddy, ewwww!"

[dystopicjumpsuit]

Hi DJ! If you’re still doing the ficlet requests, can I get 24 (cuddles of reassurance) with Wolffe? Maybe fem!reader is having a hard time with sex and feels embarrassed/overwhelmed? (If that’s too explicit/uncomy feel free to ignore :))

Just a Little Bit More

A/N: Thank you so much for this request, Alli! I’ve actually been wanting to write a fic like this for a while. I feel like so much of the smut we see in fanfiction AND in published fiction/media in general is so idealized that even when it has elements of realism, it can present a distorted idea of what sex and intimacy can really be like. I’m certainly guilty of writing somewhat idealized smut, though I do try to maintain at least some semblance of realism (unless Sev is involved; all bets are off with that man). While there’s nothing wrong with having that fantasy, I think it’s healthy and important to also show the reality that it isn’t always easy or flawless, even with a caring, experienced partner who takes our pleasure seriously and does everything “right.”

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader (Fem; has hair)

Rating: M (mature content intended for readers 18+; minors DNI)

Wordcount: 3.3K of straight smut with some cuddles

Warnings and tags: cuddles; hurt comfort; language; SMUT; oral sex; PIV; nipple play; light/playful spanking; body worship; sex toys; fingering; exhibitionism; voyeurism; creampie; difficulty with orgasm. AKA, the return of SMUTKEA.

Summary: Wolffe is the best you’ve ever had. That doesn’t mean it’s always perfect.

Suggested Listening: 

This fic smells like: Fruit de La Créativité by Grès (raspberry & leather)

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Wolffe gazed up into your eyes as you rolled your hips slowly, searching for the perfect angle. You knew you could find it: you’d done it before, countless times. His strong, warm hands glided up your thighs to your hips, pulling you closer, thrusting deeper, guiding you closer and closer to your pleasure. You could feel it building inside you, the tension gathering slowly.

Too slowly.

He smoothed one hand up your side, grazing along your rib cage until he cupped your breast, circling your nipple with his thumb. He knew exactly how much pressure you liked, and the way he touched you was perfect.

God, he’s so hot. Just focus on how hot he is.

Sweat glistened on your skin. The room hadn’t been this hot when he’d pulled you into bed, but after an hour and a half of vigorous activity, you were both slick with perspiration, saliva, arousal, and lube. He’d mapped your body with kisses, gliding his lips and tongue across your skin as he devoured you, bringing you right to the edge until you begged him to fuck you. 

You’d wrapped your legs around his waist as he eased into you, a tormented groan rumbling from his lips as he felt your heat envelope him. Gods, he felt amazing, and when he started to move, you knew it would only be a matter of minutes before you came. 

It took longer than you expected, and after a while, you realized something needed to change. 

“Take me from behind,” you’d murmured, knowing how much he loved the way your ass pressed into his hips in that position.

“God, yes,” he’d replied, pulling out and rolling you over with enthusiasm.

You loved the way he handled you in bed. He was so fucking strong. He could toss you around so easily—it was hot as hell, but the best thing about it was the care he took to make sure you were comfortable and he didn’t accidentally hurt you. He lifted your hips up and positioned you exactly the way he wanted you. You heard a small click as he closed the bottle of lube, and then you felt his slickened fingers glide over your cunt as he ensured you were ready to take him from the new angle.

“Maker, that ass is gorgeous,” he said, squeezing your cheeks before giving you a playful smack. 

Your mischievous giggle turned into a breathless moan as he sank into you, reaching deeper, stretching you wider, as his hand slid down your body to tease your clit. You loved the way he touched you, the way he caged you in with his body, making you feel incredibly safe and protected. And of course, you loved his cock. He knew exactly how to use it to ensure he gave you as much pleasure as he took—or more.

And still, your orgasm remained tantalizingly just out of reach. He shifted, and for a moment, his body rested heavily on you before he resumed his rhythm.

He’s getting tired. Fuck. Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up. I need to give him a break.

“Want me to be on top?” you offered, hoping that yet another angle would be the one that finally pushed you past whatever mental block was keeping you from your release.

He paused, his hands resting on your hips. “Is that what you want?”

“Sure,” you replied. “If you do?”

He trailed his fingers down your spine before slowly withdrawing from your body. You turned to watch as he rolled onto his back and kicked the blankets off the bed. He reached for you with that sexy smirk that you loved so much, and you knew without question that he still wanted you.

He’s such a good man. Gods, he deserves the world.

“Hop on, darlin’,” he invited.

You crawled toward him with a smile, pausing a moment to kneel between his thighs. You traced your fingertips up his legs and over his balls, then ghosted a line up the underside of his cock. You glanced up to see his eyes fixed on you with an intense expression. Holding his gaze, you dropped lower and flicked your tongue over his tip, then slid his cock into your mouth, swirling your tongue over him. You could taste yourself on his skin—salty, tangy, unspeakably erotic. His hips flexed beneath you, and you heard his breath grow ragged.

He caressed your head gently, stroking his hand over your hair and jaw before coming to rest on your shoulders.

“Not gonna last if you keep that up,” he said quietly. “Come up here.”

You gave him one last defiant, flirtatious little suck before you released him, then you began to crawl up to him, kissing a trail up his abdomen and chest. You straddled his hips, kissing and licking your way up his throat, and as you reached his lips, you whispered, “You taste like pussy.”

“Then I must be delicious,” he murmured, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck and pulling you into a passionate kiss.

His tongue slid into your mouth as his cock thrust into your cunt, and for a moment you were overwhelmed with the sensations of him filling you. A fresh wave of arousal had flooded you as you’d pleasured him with your mouth, and he slipped into you easily, rocking into you with his powerful thighs. You braced your fists against the mattress on either side of his head, pressing down to meet his thrusts as you rode him hard and fast, chasing your pleasure with a desperation that started to border on frantic as release continued to elude you.

“Gonna make you come so hard,” he whispered. “And then I’m gonna fill you up. You feel so goddamn good. Can’t wait to feel you come around my cock.”

I’m trying, damn it!

“You feel incredible,” you replied breathlessly, and it was true, so why was this so kriffing difficult?

Your hips were starting to get sore from how long you’d been at it, so you shifted positions, bringing your knees higher and setting a slower pace to try to buy yourself enough time that you’d have the energy to make it to the finish line. Wolffe adjusted instantly, not even needing a verbal cue to understand the message your body sent. You found the angle that pressed his cock against the perfect place inside you, and you focused on trying to get as much stimulation there as you possibly could, cutting out all extraneous movement.

The longer it took, the more anxious and desperate you became. You tried to shut down the voice in your head that whispered, “He’s getting bored,” because you knew it was a lie. All you had to do was look into his beautiful, mismatched eyes to see how much he wanted you. And you were so close. So fucking close, if you could just get out of your own head long enough to let go.

You traced your fingertips across his cheekbone and along his jaw, grazing your thumb across his lips. You pressed gently, parting his lips to brush your thumb against his tongue, and then you leaned down and kissed him deeply, trying to lose yourself in the sensation of his lips and tongue against your own.

“You’re so beautiful,” he whispered as you broke from the kiss and returned your hand to brace against the mattress. “So fuckin’ beautiful.”

Please stop talking. You couldn’t say it out loud; what kind of an asshole says something like that in response to a compliment?

“You’re so sexy,” you whispered instead. “You’re amazing at this.”

It was true; he was amazing. Unquestionably the best you’d ever had. In the time you’d been together, he’d learned your body completely, identifying every spot that made you shiver, testing different approaches until he knew exactly how and where you liked to be touched, kissed, caressed. He knew where to use his teeth, and where to use his breath; he knew when you wanted him to be tender, and when you craved roughness. 

He knew you.

He knew you better than anyone ever had, and that made your current predicament even more maddening. Because sometimes it was easy. Sometimes you came so fast that your orgasm surprised both of you. But most of the time, it took more work. A lot more. And sometimes, like this one, you would get so close to the edge that you were only seconds away, only to feel the wave of pleasure ebb and be replaced with frustration and exhaustion.

Please, please, please. Just a little bit more.

Your wrists ached. Your knuckles were raw from grinding them into the sheets. You shifted your weight and lifted one hand off the mattress, stretching your fingers and trying to get the blood flowing to them. He glanced at your hand, then back up into your eyes.

“What can I do?” he asked softly.

“Just… keep going,” you said desperately. “I’m so close—I’m so fucking close, and I just can’t—I can’t—”

Abrupt tears stung your eyes, and you buried your face against his neck to hide them, kissing his chest to try to distract him from your distress.

He wrapped his arms around your body, still rocking into you at the pace you’d set. “Do you want to take a break?”

“No, I want you to come,” you snapped, disappointment sharpening your tone more than you intended.

He stilled immediately. You felt his hand slide up your back to stroke your hair softly.

“Hey,” he murmured, kissing the top of your head. “Look at me.”

You shook your head and burrowed your face obstinately into the nook where his neck met his shoulder.

“Talk to me, little one,” he urged. “Tell me what’s wrong.”

The dam cracked and then burst. 

“I’m so fucking tired,” you sobbed. “And I can tell you’re getting tired, and I just want it to be good for you, and every time I think I’m getting there, I lose it!”

Mortification swept through you that you were making a scene during such an intimate moment, and you tried to stifle your sobs, but it was too late. You felt him go soft inside you, and then he slipped from your body.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered. “I didn’t mean to ruin it for you.”

His arms tightened around you, and he rolled the both of you onto your sides, pulling you close against his body. “You didn’t ruin anything.”

Holding you tightly with one arm, he began to run his hand lightly over your back, comforting you with his touch as he kissed your forehead.

“You didn’t ruin anything,” he repeated. “You just got tired. It’s all right, love. It happens.”

“It’s so frustrating,” you confessed. “So many times, I thought I was there, and then something would distract me, and it was just gone.”

“Was it something I did?” he asked.

“No, of course not. It was just… I don’t know. A noise? Or a weird thought that popped into my head at a bad time?” You paused, feeling a little guilty as you remembered that, in fact, you had gotten annoyed at an ill-timed remark from him. “And then the longer it took, the more it stressed me out about how long it was taking, until I was stressing so much about it that that’s all I could think about.”

He moved his hand to your shoulder and began to glide it up and down your arm in long, languid strokes. “Why were you worried about taking too long?”

You paused, unaccountably hesitant to admit the truth. He waited patiently, still caressing your arm, until at last you replied, “I was worried you were getting tired. Or bored. Or—I don’t know…”

His hand stilled in its progress, then slid around your back as he pulled you even closer to him. “I would never get bored with you.”

“But—”

“I love you,” he cut you off firmly. “I love being with you. I love fuckin’ you. You’re gorgeous, and sexy, and kriffin’ amazing in the sack. Do you have any idea how lucky I am? Most men only dream of finding a girl like you, but I got you for real. How the hell would I ever be stupid enough to get bored with someone as goddamn perfect as you?”

You didn’t know what to say. You lay in his arms, clinging tightly to him as the tears finally stopped trickling from your eyes. You shuddered quietly.

“Yeah?” you asked in a tiny whisper.

He rolled you onto your back and moved to lie on top of you so he could look into your eyes.

“Yeah,” he replied.

You swallowed. “I love you, too, you know.”

“I know,” he said with a charming smirk.

He pressed his lips to your sternum as his hand slid lazily up your body to play with your breast. The weight of his body pressed you down into the soft mattress as you cradled his chest between your thighs. You took a deep breath, then let it out slowly, releasing the guilt and stress and self-recrimination you’d built up in your body.

He kissed you again, and again, then he began to work his way across your chest until he drew your nipple into his mouth, brushing his tongue over your skin as he sucked gently, sending a jolt of pleasure through your body. You felt a spark of renewed arousal, but with it came a surge of anxiety that rose insistently in your mind.

“Wolffe,” you whispered. “I don’t know if I can. I really am exhausted.”

He looked up at you as he continued to tease your breast. At last, he released your nipple from his lips, giving you a devilish smile.

“What if we tried something else?”

You couldn’t help the way your lips curved into an answering smile when he looked at you like that. “What did you have in mind?”

He pushed himself up off of you and leaned over to rummage through your nightstand until he retrieved a vibrator—the one you’d once jokingly called “Old Faithful” for its uncanny ability to get you off like clockwork.

“I want you to fuck yourself with this,” he said, his voice dropping to a gravelly pitch. “I want to watch you make yourself come.”

Your breath stuttered to a halt, your eyes widening and your heart beginning to pound at the idea. Your gaze flicked from the toy to his eyes and back again.

“Wh—what about you?” you stammered.

“Don’t you worry about me,” he replied. He switched on the vibrator and traced it down your abdomen, making you twitch as its buzz tickled your skin. “Will you?”

“Yeah,” you breathed, taking the toy from him. “How do you want me?”

“Whatever way works best for you.”

You thought about trying to pose for him, to put on a show, but you knew instinctively that wasn’t what he was after. If he’d wanted to watch a counterfeit, staged orgasm, he would have just found a holoporn. No. He wanted the real thing. He wanted to see your genuine pleasure.

“All right,” you whispered.

You took the toy from him, and he moved off of your body to lie next to you, observing you closely. You adjusted the settings to your preferred speed and pattern, then took a deep breath and began.

The instant you touched the vibrator to your clit, your entire body tensed, and you gasped quietly. You glanced at Wolffe and found his gaze riveted to your pussy, his one good pupil dilated so wide you could barely see the amber ring of his iris around its inky depths. You felt a little self-conscious until you saw the way his lips parted slightly as his breath became heavy. 

You pushed yourself back into the pillow and closed your eyes as you adjusted the angle of the toy, pressing it exactly as you needed it. With your free hand, you began to play with your breast, caressing and squeezing and rolling your nipple between your fingertips. You felt the warmth of his hand as it settled onto your leg and then slid up your thigh. Your opposite leg curled up to brace your foot against the bed, opening your stance wider as you moved the vibrator exactly the way you needed it.

“Fuck,” he rasped hoarsely, and you could feel the heat of his breath on your skin. His fingers grazed lightly over your pussy, but quickly withdrew.

“You can touch me,” you gasped.

He didn’t move immediately, and you continued to work yourself closer and closer to your orgasm, feeling the tension gather in your body and begin to tighten in on your center. Then his fingertips brushed over your cunt again, and you felt his lips and tongue descend on your hip. He didn’t try to take control, just touched you softly, kissing and licking and watching as you played with yourself. 

You adjusted your position again, bringing your leg against his body, and you felt his slick, rigid cock press hard against you. You whimpered, so turned on you couldn’t even form words, and in response, he ground his erection against you. He kissed across your pelvis until he reached your belly, pressing his face into you.

“I’m so close,” you panted.

“Kriff, me too,” he growled.

His fingertip grazed into you, and your body jerked as you gasped sharply. He froze, and without thinking, you moved your hand away from your breast to grab his wrist and push him deeper. With an urgent grunt, he began to move his finger, stroking exactly where he knew you needed him.

Abruptly, your hips arched off the bed, and you let out an inhuman wail. If your brain had been functioning, you might have also heard Wolffe’s rough groan, but at the moment, you were aware of nothing but blinding, shattering pleasure as your body finally found the release it had been denied for so many hours. You jerked the vibrator away as the intensity suddenly became too much, and your body convulsed again and again until at last you collapsed onto the bed, utterly spent.

Wolffe covered you with frantic kisses, crawling up your body until he reached your face. His body hovered over you as his tongue brushed between your lips and flooded your mouth with his taste. Your arms wrapped around his torso as your legs tightened around his hips, and you pulled him into you. His cock slid easily, and he thrust hard and fast, fucking you through the last tremors of your orgasm.

He came within seconds, flooding you with heat as he thrust hard, one last time, burying his cock as deep as he could inside your body. He stayed there, his entire body taut, until at last he exhaled a hard breath and relaxed onto you. His lips broke away from yours, and he rested his forehead against the pillow next to your head.

“Fuck,” he panted, the word hot against your ear. “Fuck, you’re amazing.”

You stroked your hands up and down his back, digging your nails lightly into his skin. He groaned and slumped heavily against your body. You loved the weight of him on top of you, but before long, you began to wheeze quietly as you struggled to draw breath. He heard the shift and immediately rolled off of you, pulling you against himself as he came to rest on the bed.

“Thank you,” you whispered as you pressed your lips to his chest.

He laughed quietly. “Thank you. That was the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.” 

“Worth the wait?” you asked.

“Worth everything,” he murmured, drawing you even closer. “Everything, and more. You always have been.”

 ---

Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts!Want more Wolffe? Here’s a tiny little fluffy ficlet.

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[the-bad-batch-baroness]

Where's Mommy?

Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Part 1

Summary: Wolffe's wife suddenly dies, leaving him a single father in the middle of a war.

Pairing: Wolffe x Fem!Reader

Characters: Wolffe, Plo Koon, Cara (child OFC)

Tags & Warnings: heavy angst, mention of death, off-screen death, spousal death, reader is not the spouse, grief, hurt/comfort

Word Count: 807

Author's Note: I came up with this sad short fic while I was on hiatus. If I have to suffer, then y'all are going to suffer with me. It's sad. It's really sad. I might make this into a full-length reader fic at some point, where Wolffe hires a nanny (reader) for his daughter and they fall in love, or something sappy like that (pssst, I did). As always, please enjoy 💚

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Wolffe stands frozen in the medcenter hallway, staring down an endless sterile corridor with a small hand wrapped tightly around his finger. A pulmonary embolism, they said. A blood clot in the lungs, they said. She was so young, they said. Could've happened to anyone, they said. But it didn't happen to anyone. It happened to his wife. Within moments, and by no choice of his own, he's now a single father in a galaxy torn by war. The light of his life, snuffed out like a candle. 

"Daddy?" his daughter says while tugging on his hand. 

Wolffe snaps out of his daze and looks down at her. "Yeah, baby?"

"Where's mommy?" she asks.

"Mommy…" Wolffe pauses, biting his lip as he looks anywhere but his daughter's face. "Mommy had to go."

"Go where?" she asks. 

"Far away," he says.

"But why?" she asks. "I love mommy."

"I love mommy too, baby," he says, barely able to keep his emotions at bay. 

"Then why'd she leave?" she whines. 

"Listen to me, Cara," he kneels on the ground in front of her. "Sometimes… sometimes people have to leave and there's nothing we can do about it."

"When's she coming back?" she asks. 

"She's not," he chokes.

"I want mommy!" she yells.

Wolffe picks up his crying child and holds her against his chest, letting his own tears fall silently out of her view. "I know, baby. I know. I want her too."

"I'm not leaving without mommy!" she wails.

"Please, baby," he soothes as she cries inconsolable.

"Hush little one," a soft voice says from behind Wolffe.

Wolffe turns around and sighs in relief. "General."

"I came as soon as I heard," Plo says. He places a gentle hand on Wolffe's shoulder. "I'm so sorry for your loss."

"Thank you," Wolffe says while bouncing his daughter to try and calm her down. 

"Come here little one," Plo says as he stretches out his arms to take Cara from Wolffe. 

Wolffe peels his distraught daughter off of his chest and hands her to Plo, then collapses down onto the bench against the wall. He hangs head in his hands and sobs quietly. His first real moment to fully process the loss of his wife. 

Plo turns away from Wolffe to give him some privacy and continues to bounce Cara to soothe her. 

The little girl's crying echoes throughout the hallway, sending sharp pains through Wolffe's already broken heart. He wants her to stop crying so he can stop crying. She's just a child, and she doesn't understand what's happening, which is making the situation all the more difficult. How can he console her when he can barely hold it together himself? The last time he felt this helpless was the Malevolence incident, and even then he held it together better than right now.

He doesn't know how to be a mother. He's a soldier, a commander. How is he going to fight in the war and raise a child? It's practically impossible. He can't just quit the war either. No clone can. His wife was a saint. She took care of everything while he was away on campaigns. The only thing he needed to do when he came home was hug his little baby girl and dote on her until he had to leave again. He gave his family everything he had, and everything he didn't have. 

He always knew he was going to be an absent father because of the war, but he didn't in his wildest imagination think his wife would die before him. They had contingency plans for if he died, but they didn't make any plans for if she died. This entire scenario came out of left-field and blindsided him. They were eating dinner like they always did when he goes on shore leave. How in the universe did they go from eating dinner to her being dead? He'll never understand it.

"General," Wolffe says through his tears. "What do I do now?"

Plo studies the devastated commander and softens his eyes. "You take each moment as it comes."

"But what do I do?" Wolffe pleads with a hitch in his throat. "The funeral, my kid, my troops, my–"

"Arrangements are being made as we speak," Plo interrupts. "You are not alone in this despair, Wolffe."

Wolffe looks up at the general and a menial, barely noticeable smile forms at the corner of his mouth, but it's betrayed by the streaks of tears that line his flushed cheeks. He says nothing in response, afraid that if he utters even one more syllable, he'll lose the last bit of composure he's maintaining. However, the words of his general ring true. He's not alone. He's never been alone. He has his general and an entire battalion of brothers to lean on. His family is here for him. 

Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5

Part 6 - Part 7 - Part 8 - Part 9 - Part 10

Masterlist

AO3

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[coffeeandbatboys]

Saw the last call post, and I swear I had a mini heart attack haha. Anyways! I would love to see a fic with: Wolffe, 3, and middle lovey emoji face (because I don't have an emoji keyboard). Thank you! I always love your work, so I know it'll be amazing! I might spam your inbox with a few more requests if you don't mind multiple requests from the same person.

Oh, this one is perfect, I repeat; FUCKING PERFECT for Wolffe.

Prompt: Holding and cradling their face to study it, perhaps noticing something new. Something else to love.

Come What May (Wolffe x Reader)

Wolffe ran a hand over his cybernetic eye. You could tell that he was trying to turn it away from you, but you figured you’d give it some time for him to come around.

But after a few nights of him doing this, you’d had enough.

“Wolffe.” You whispered, tilting his chin to face you.

He closed his eyes.

“Why don’t you hate it?”

You frowned.

“Why would I hate it?”

He opened his eyes again. Tears sparkled on his waterline.

"You deserve so much more than this," He choked. "If I didn't come home to you one day....I can't hurt you like that."

Your heart dropped to the floor and shattered into a million pieces. You shifted yourself to sit in his lap as you cradled his face ever so gently with your hands.

"Then you will have departed as the most adored and loved man in the galaxy. You're not getting rid of me like that, Wolffe. I love you, and that will never change. And this?"

You began to press feather-light kisses to the scar over his eye, only pausing to finish your reassurances. "—is the most beautiful thing I have seen in my life." You whispered, returning your lips to his bronzed skin.

His arms wound around your back and pulled you flush against his chest. His face buried into the crook of your neck and you continued your kisses down his cheek and finally to his lips.

"The measure of a man is within his heart. And I firmly believe that yours is made of gold. That's why I love you, Wolffe." You murmered in between kisses.

Tears finally spilled over and he kissed you back. "I love you too, Mesh'la."

"Hey," you pulled back yo hold his face again. "I'm serious. I'm not going anywhere. You're stuck with me."

He nodded and pressed his forehead to yours.

"Come what may, love." You whispered. "Come what may."

[221bshrlocked]

desire for obedience

Pairings: Commander Wolffe x Jedi Fem!Reader

Words: 5656

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Maker, he looked positively frightening. 

It aroused you to no end. 

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

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

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

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

“What the fuck were you thinking?” 

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

“I- I was just…”

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

Which is how you found yourself in this mess. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

“I was thinking of you.” 

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

“I’m- I’m always thinking of you.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Wolffe.”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

He truly thought you were of more value than him. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Yes sir.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Oh yeah, h-how so?” 

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

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

“Hmm.” 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Damn right I am.”

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

[lune-de-miel-au-paradis]

Who you belong to

Summary: You plan a date night with Wolffe going to a concert for a band you both love. You decided to have some fun and choose a sexy, tempting outfit for your Commander. Turns out the lead singer had his eyes on you and Wolffe needs to remind you who you belong to.

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x f!reader

Warnings: NSFW,18+ (minors pls don't read), biker!Wolffe, sorta possessive Wolffe, jealousy, fingering, kinda public sex, grinding, language, growling, biting, kinda dom!Wolffe, blowjob, Wolffe being Wolffe, soft Wolffe, feelings, mention of a real life band and band member, a few easter eggs as characters, mention of readers looks, a bit long  (I hope I haven't left out anything.)

A/N: This is a gift for my lovely dear also super talented writer (check out her fics!)  friend Gabi! 💖@cloneloverrrrr

I know you love Wolffe and this band so this is especially for you to enjoy! I wrote this in vacay so pls forgive me if I mistyped something. Also this is my first fics post for a very long time so pls be kind. And this is my first ever smuty, spicy fics so Im super excited but also anxious about it. I really hope you'll like it. (I like criticism, but only if you guys are kind and not rude.) And forgive me if something is not correct with the grammar because english is not my first language. There is gonna be a part 2. (smutty!) coming in this week. 

Moodboard made by me in Canva and pictures from Pinterest.

Pls enjoy! 

Satisfied, you looked at yourself in front of the three-part standing mirror. Today promised to be a particularly good day. You finished your job early, so you had time for a pleasant bubble bath and some pampering rituals, which only boosted your confidence even more. Somehow your feminine energies were at a high level today. Several of your customers asked what serum you use, telling you that your skin is almost glowing, and even your hair is shining brighter. Maybe it's the position of the stars, maybe it's the full moon, or even more so, the fact that you happen to be on a date with the hottest Commander of the GAR, Wolffe. Your Wolffe.

Hound introduced you to each other when little tooka kittens moved into the air vent of Fox's office. You were the only applicant who was willing to take in the black and orange colored kittens. Fox and Wolffe were having a few words over a cup of caf when you and Hound arrived at the office. As soon as Wolffe saw you, he knew it was over for him. He fell into you hard, deep and inexorably. He immediately introduced himself, and although you were a bit surprised at first by the approach of the grumpy intimidating clone, you noticed over a little time, the softening of his dark and serious gaze as he looked at you with his silver and whiskey colored eyes. 

You were the only woman who found a crack in his hard, cold armor and moved straight into his heart.

It's been half a year already that you are officially a couple. As far as the strict rules allow. (You had Master Plo's blessing, and that was all that mattered to you. Rules are meant to be broken, anyway.) 

Wolffe has to go on another mission tomorrow, but tonight is all yours. So you certainly had some great plans.

A couple of scented candles in your apartment that made the air smell of pumpkin and cinnamon in honor of the coming autumn. Several outfits have been prepared for your black gothic styled bed and on the soft velvety blankets. The black kitten was sleeping curled up on the cushion of your reading chair. While you swept the orange one off the bed yourself. The little mischievous one really wanted to play with the shoulder strap of the small bag you chose to go with one of the dresses.

Your nails matched your lipstick, which was exactly the same dark rich burgundy as the spicy sweet wine you were sipping while getting ready, and it matched the  love bite marks that Wolffe gave you on your last evenings together. Little gifts, or you can say reminders of who you belong to, and how much he craves you. You loved them, even though they started to fade away a little.

"So it's a good excuse to get some more" you thought cheekily. 

You looked at the outfits, you weren't sure which one to wear, but you were sure of two things you definitely gonna wear. Your new long black vinyl jacket with matching boots and your new black lacy underwear set . The make-up was done, your hair smelled of your favorite shampoo and fell softly in raven black locks on your back, you had already put on your underwear and boots, both of which were surprisingly comfortable. You also talked to two girlfriends on comm.

All three of you lived far from each other, in different rims but you still made time for a little chat several times a week.

You met on a platform where several blogs ran stuff about clones (how little rights they have, how can their situation be helped, what is like dating in such straight circumstances.) and you've been good friends ever since.

One of them used their connections and gifted you two tickets to the concert of your favorite band. You and Wolffe were both fans of Bad Omens, so you couldn't wait for tonight to start. You just asked their advice on what to wear.

"Whatever you choose, knowing the Commander, you won’t be wearing it for long." teased one of them. 

Starting with this, an idea occurred to you!

Risky and bold, but it can turn out well...

You knew that Wolffe would arrive soon, so you said goodbye to your girlfriends and sipped the remaining wine from your glass, making up your mind confidently. You threw your clothes on the floor and only put on your coat. It was perfect: the size, the material, plus it covered enough to not get into an awkward position, as it was long enough. You sprayed a little perfume on yourself, which made you know that Wolffe would only go crazy for you. 

Wolffe had a bike, but not just any speeder bike. It was a big, solid, black, shiny, sport bike. He worked hard for it and put aside all the credit so it could be his. It was his treasure that was guarded with fear until he got to know you. After all, you took the first place in his heart. Anyhow he took great care of her and often maintained her, giving her the name Selene, which is basically the moon goddess in mythology. Until he knew you, she was the only one he cared about, and yes, he even howled sometimes when he drove with her on the capital roads.

He stored it in the small garage belonging to your apartment, which you allowed him to do and for which he showed his gratitude so many times in the form of kisses.

Right now, leaning on the motorcycle, you watch as the person of your desires and love approaches you.

Instead of his usual GAR gear, he wore black pants, boots, and a leather jacket. Smelling like a divine god, woody musk mixed with leather, amber and a hint of bergamot. An elixir that made you crave him more and more every time. 

"Hey handsome. Care for a ride?" you teased him. 

"With a woman like you? Always mesh'la. I will even go to hell with you, it will be heaven for me as long as you are mine and I can kiss you on those lush lips of yours."

You shuddered when you saw his eyes darken, and his seductive tone only made you more aroused. You loved everything about his voice, its depth, the accent, the way he whispered those sinfully sexy words into your ear every night when you were together in his own language.

He wrapped his two strong arms around your waist and kissed you passionately. You haven't seen him in a week, so the kiss quickly turned into tongue and teeth kinda kiss. With this kind of kiss, the world ceases to exist, it's just you and the butterflies in your stomach are about to burst out of excitement and there is only him. His honey-like taste in your tongue, his scent in the air your lungs breathe in, his grip in your body that makes you crazy and his love for you that makes you so utterly obsessed with him. 

You just stayed like that for a while, not paying attention to the outside world, lovingly kissing freely like young lovers. When you separated, both of you were gasping for air and your foreheads touched.

"Miss me that much Commander?" you asked

“So. Very. Kriffing. Much.” 

After every word, he planted a kiss on your lips, emphasizing his truth.

You both put on your helmets and biker gloves headed towards one of the downtown nightclubs on the lower level.

Wolffe drove fast, took the corners confidently, but with certainty. You loved riding a motorcycle with him, the excitement, the feeling of freedom, the fact that your body was almost completely smoothed over his. Wolffe promised that he would teach you to ride a motorcycle after the war, but you knew that together with him you liked riding much more. On the way, the pack members appeared on both sides, Sinker and Comet saluted and waved, and Boost boosted past you at full speed balancing on a rear wheel, all of them howling. You laughed as Wolffe shifted into higher gear more enthusiastically. You thanked the Maker for the hair foam that, when you apply it to your hair and drive at such a high speed, the air creates wonderful tangle-free volume in your hair.

With the tickets, they let you in out of line and you were already inside. Smoke machines and flashing red lights made the concert halls vibe. Upbeat music played that became one with your heartbeat. You chase out several acquaintances in the crowd, to whom you waved enthusiastically. You saw members of the Corrie guard, some troopers from the 501th and the 212th battalions. 

“You look amazing my dear. Absolutely stunning!”

When you heard the familiar chuckle, you turned to Gregor with a big smile as he winked at you from the center of a lady's wreath. He greeted you with two kisses on the cheek, which caused most of the ladies gathered around him to frown glumly with their colorful lips. But you didn't care, you and Gregor were good friends before you got together with Wolffe.

"I see you are not bored. You have quite an amount of pretty ladies as company."

"Well, somehow I have to make up for the time I was gone. And they can't resist the famous 'Gregor charm'." 

When he did his iconic hair straightening motion one girl almost passed out, you just rolled your eyes laughing. Gregor took a good look at you and knew right away.

"Naughty girl! You're gonna kill this poor bastard with your sexiness. Has he noticed it yet?"

"Not yet."

"Good. Play your cards smart dear. And don't sit on cold benches!"

He planted another kiss on your cheek and returned to his ladies. Such a ladies man.

There was a kind of unspoken agreement between you two, when Wolffe was around Gregor would try to flirt with you. This made Wolffe a little jealous and left delicious bruises on your soft skin to your delight while fucking you to heaven. And Gregor's current lady was also jealous and gave the Captain what he wanted much sooner. A win-win situation.

Wolffe put his arms around you. You enjoyed the concert together. You sang the lyrics with the band, you danced as much as the crowd allowed. The music and the atmosphere permeated you completely. You were upbeat and happy, a gorgeous smile was on your face and sparkle in your eyes.

Wolffe looked at you and couldn't get enough of you. He adored you. He was kind of obsessed. Your beautiful appearance, which seems to have been made for him. Your raven and shiny silky hair, your pretty face, your soft and divine body. Your kind heart, which holds so much love. The care that you put in your friendships. The nurture care you showed for the adopted kittens. As you shower his newly acquired war scars with kisses. Your passion for your work. 

He didn't believe in his wildest dreams that he would ever be able to feel this way about someone. 

As he observed you lovingly, he noticed a small blush appear on your cheeks. Then he noticed how the band's lead singer looked at you. Noah kriffing Sebastian was ogling you like you were a delicious dessert to him. Wolffe knew he was your celebrity crush since you were young. Wolffe was no longer paying attention to the music, but to the way the singer almost sang to you, and that he even winked at you. This clearly had an effect on him, because the Commander decided it was time to act. There were two options. He rips out the musician's heart with his bare hands in front of you, or reminds you who you belong to.

Unfortunately, he wouldn't win much with the first move, as he would be arrested and convicted, which would be a lot of paperwork for Fox, leaving option number 2. He took your upper arm and gently but firmly led you out of the crowd and into one of the deserted corridors.

He pinned you to the wall, the cold metal cooling your back. He covers your mouth with his, hot and heavy.

"Wolffe! What's gotten into you?" you asked.

He didn't answer, he just studied your face in silence, the neon lights in the reflection of his cybernetic eyes only made him even more dangerously handsome. The shadows on his face highlighted his strong nose, high cheekbones and attractive lips.

"I decided it's time for a little reminder for you mesh'la. I see you're enjoying the concert too much."

"Yes it's amazing! Aren't you enjoying it?"

"Not really when that bastard singer have eyes on something he shouldn't. I see how he basically eyefucked you. Do you want it mesh'la? Want to fuck him? Don't even get me started on Gregor."

"No. I'm only yours, you know that."

You cupped his face and looked into his eyes, soon you realized regardless, you still get a little reminder how to behave. You smiled at him.

"Good. Now be a good girl, and open up." he commanded.

You obeyed, opened your mouth and looked up at him seductively through your eyelashes.

"Make them wet."

You sucked them in and you gently started to caress his fingers with your tongue and enjoyed the effect you caused him. His eyes are fixed on you, lustful and dark, he swallows, then takes them away from your lips and straight towards your hot, longing center.

That's when he discovers that you're not wearing pants or a skirt. You see the surprise slide across his face and then turn into a satisfied smile. He relaxes his free hand on the belt of the jacket as he unbuttons it, then discovers that you are only wearing your underwear under the jacket, and the thigh high boots. He almost growled with desire.

"Such a dirty girl. You're gonna be the end of me."

He basically groweld in your ears. While he pulled your panties to the side out of his kriffing way and started gently stroking your folds and found that sensitive spongy spot as he slid two fingers into you. You were already wet all evening from the excitement of your choice of clothing and the feelings of his closeness.

His fingers moved rhythmically inside you as he massaged your clit in circular motions with his thumb. You moaned loudly with lust.

"Funny Gregor said that too." you let out a chuckle.

Wolffe suddenly stopped with his motions, eliciting a moan of complaint from you at the lack of his fingers. He grabbed your chin with his fingers wet from your juices, squeezing it a little.

His veins on his neck straining from how hard he's clenching his jaws, the wild nearly homicidal look in those amber colored and silver dark eyes, you began to understand how he came about his name. It aroused you to no end.

"I'm only going to ask this once, and you better have a good answer for me, mesh'la. Who does this pussy belong to? Who do you belong to?"

Maker, you were a whimpering mess, you wanted him so bad to take you right here right now while the concert still plays in the background and with the excitement that anyone could caught you in this position.

"You. Only you Commander." you said

"Will you think about other men when I'm pleasing you?" he asked in a gentle tone but from his eyes you saw how serious he was.

" Never. I'm only yours."

"Wouldn't you like anyone else to touch you like this? Hmm?"

He asked slowly oh so slowly circling your clit with his free hand, the other kept you still by the jaw.

"Are you wishing it was someone elses fingers inside of you? Noah Sebastian maybe? Or Captain Gregor? Do you think they make a better job at knowing you? Loving you like I do?"

His voice was low warm toned, it sent shivers down your spine.

He slipped to fingers in your tight aching cunt. You whined in pleasure wanting more, but he was torturing you with his sweet slow motions. Maker you wanted more.

"No there is only you. Only you my Commander. Oh, Wolffe, give me more! I need to come so bad. I don't want anyone else but you. No rockstar."

"What about the Captain you want him?"

"No, I don't wish for Gregor. Only you my love."

"Good. Don't ever say his name while I'm inside you. Understand that pretty girl?"

You loved it when he spoke to you in his commanding tone.

"Yes."

"Yes, What?" He leaned in closer to you, your lips almost touched.

"Yes, Commander." you said and he let out a satisfied grumble which made your pussy twitch in answer.

Oh, how he loved hearing that rank roll off your lips. Just the thought of it made him rock hard. Just as much as you loved to hear his growls and moans.

You palmed his turgid length through his pants and earned some more pleasant noises from Wolffe.

His fingers begin to swirl on your sensitive bud, you open your legs wider to allow him better access, and let out a small gasp when he gently nibbles your ear. He can feel how wet you get by his movements. His fingers curl in you the way he knows it makes your knees weak you can't help it but to grind into his palm. He starts to explore your neck and jaw gently kissing biting and sucking delicious lovebites on your pale skin.  You can feel you're close to your climax as he moved his hand in you and rubbed on your clit, when he felt your inner muscles clench around him he let out a satisfied growl in your ear, when you decided to lean closer to him and lick a long stripe over his pulse.

"Fuck...Wolffe...I'm close.." you moaned.

"Then cum for me mesh'la, give it to me sweet thing..."

Your climax hit you hard and you felt so wonderfully helpless as the room spun and you saw stars, you heard the music from the still running concert show.

He still had his hand in you still hit that oh so sweet spongy spot to help you ride out your orgasm. Wolffe loved to make you cum. Feeling you fall apart in his arms seeing how beautiful you were and how vulnerable in those moments it turned him on like nothing else.

"Shhh you such a good girl." he shooted you and kissed your forehead. "But you have to earn another one. Is it okay for you sweet thing?"

"Yes. Please. Please I need to taste you Commander."

You knelt down, running your fingers gracefully along his thick muscled legs up towards the zipper. When your hand was on his hardness, you looked up seductively.

"May I Commander suck on your cock sir? "

"Yes you fucking may. I like it when you know how to behave. Good girls get a reward."

Some concern appeared on your face when you saw his huge cock bounce out from his pants. He was perfect and you became more aroused when you see the effect you made on him. You rubbed your red plum lips gently to the tip to smear his salty pre cum then you slid it fully into your mouth ever so slowly and Wolffe let out a sexy hoarse voiced moan. You welcomed him with wet hotness and a tight throat as you moved up and down on his shaft. You tried to take him further, still only getting half way.

Your mouth felt a little dry, since you had been singing and shouting at the concert so far. Wolffe caressed your face lovingly, then turned up your face by the jaw:

"I got you. Open up, pretty girl, let me help you."

You obeyed, you opened your mouth with your eyes closed and felt him kiss you passionately and spit in your mouth.

You couldn't take it, you reached down with your hand and played with yourself until you were now completely wet and hot and could let him into your mouth and suck on him rhythmically up and down. His head fell back in pleasure.

"Just like that...so kriffing good...so good with that pretty mouth of yours."

You gently wrung guttural moans from him. Holding his gaze was hard but something in his gaze just kept you there. You couldn't look away from him.

He had that lustful loving look on you full of feral and hunger for you. Only you can get this reaction out of him. Only you hold this power over him, that makes him rock hard and wild for you.

You enjoyed and valued this power, this connection you two had. Force bond? Fuck that! You two were so perfect, so meant to be. Fucking soulmates.

You might have closed your eyes for these sweet thoughts because you heard his command.

"Don't you dare look away from me mesh'la."

He was satisfied with your quick response because he gently grabbed your hair and with one hand he guided you on his cock.

"That's it, keep your eyes on me. I want you to watch me as I fuck that pretty mouth. "

He couldn't have looked away if he tried to. The way his cock disappeared in and out from your mouth, as your talented tongue worked on him it almost made him lose his mind. If he was gonna die this is the way he wants to leave this life, with you, inside you. Loving you.

"Ah sweetheart I'm close... Will you be good and swallow? You can say the safe word if you want to stop."

You worked on him with more passion and gripped his hips as an answer.

You knew exactly what made him feel heavens, what movements he needed to tip over the edge and cum.

Your pace quickened and your tongue too, his grip tightened in your hair and his moans were louder.

You didn't care about the world around you, what mattered is the two of you, to bring pleasure to each other. And luckily he  chose a well hidden corridor. So you weren't disturbed.

He came hard, his head fell back, eyes closed growling like a real wolf. His salty warm cum came down your throat as you swallowed all of it. He looked down on you with lovesick eyes.

You looked so lovely, your mascara a bit smeared from your tears, your mouth is red glistening with his cum, your hair is messy and your eyes full of emotions.

He helped you up, kept you close to him, kissed you with love and passion.

"I'm so crazy for you mesh'la."

He whispered to your locks when he gave you a forehead kiss. You hugged him tight, intoxicated with his warmness and his cologne.

"Should I help you with something?"

"I just go for a quick touch up in the bathroom." you said.

You went into another corridor with still wobbly legs and acknowledged that there was no line in frotnt of the bathrooms so the show must be still going on.

You only saw a pretty lilac twilek girl press Gregor to the wall kissing him furiously. When he saw you he held his fist out and you fist bumped it while going in the ladies room.

You cleaned yourself up, put on another coat of lipstick, wiped away the smeared mascara and noticed all the lovely bruises your Commander gave you. Your neck was full of maroon colored lovebites, they were very noticable and very sexy on your skin. Wolffe guaranteed everyone saw he marked his territory.

When you went back he was waiting for you, and when you entered the crowd again he whispered to your ear as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Don't worry mesh'la the night isn't over yet. I have some plans for you after the concert. When I'm done with you my love, you won't even remember your own name."

...

Part 2. is coming soon!

[tommydarlings]

IT'S DONE AND ALREADY AVAILABLE TO READ ON MY PATREON AND TOMORROW ON MY TUMBLR! <3