#commander wolf x 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

AO3

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[sinfulsalutations]

𝕤𝕠𝕞𝕖 𝕟𝕖𝕨 𝕟𝕠𝕚𝕤𝕖𝕤 ⋆*･ﾟ𝕔𝕠𝕞𝕞𝕒𝕟𝕕𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕠𝕝𝕗𝕗𝕖

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

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

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

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

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

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

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

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

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

Did Wolffe just... growl?

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

Shit. Fuck. Why was that so hot?

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

“Hey…” You whine.

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

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

So you decide to pull out the big guns.

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Growl for me.”

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

Then, Wolffe finally speaks.

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

Oh, this asshole.

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

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

Either way, he sounds delighted.

You’re feeling just about the same as well.

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

#nour writes stuff #star wars #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #star wars: the clone wars #the clones #wolf pack #104th battalion #commander wolffe #clone troopers #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #tcw wolffe #wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #wolffe x you #wolffe x reader #clone wars wolffe #tcw #sw tcw #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars tcw #tcw fanfiction #tcw fanfic #sw tcw fanfic #star wars clone wars #reader insert

[soaringthroughthegalaxy]

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

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

our luggage is slice of life/family and romance

we were thinking of going to tatooine and yavin 4

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

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

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

Part of the Pack

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

Pairing: Wolffe x f!reader

Word count: 2k

Warnings: fluff, sweetness, grumpy and sunshine.

Translations: meshurok - gemstone

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

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

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

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

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

A droid.

But not just any droid.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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[katek3nobi]

𝒟𝒾𝓇𝓉𝓎 𝐵𝑒𝑒𝓇

SUMMARY: Wolffe’s raging possessiveness over you finally comes to fruition after months of pining

(Wolffe xFemReader)

content (💋☘️)

‧˚₊•┈┈┈┈୨୧┈┈┈┈•‧₊˚⊹

Working at 79s was a blessing and a curse. There had been many times where you’d had to call the police droids to break up bar fights, dragging out drunk shinies who got off their face after one drink and the occasional Weequay creep who wouldn’t know how to take no as an answer.

Tonight though, tonight was quiet, well as quiet as 79s could get. the bass boosted music still rumms your ear drums, the pining migraine forming at the back of your head still present as ever, but the clones tonight were tame. Grateful is an understatement. The abrupt slam of the door opening rips you from your thoughts, looking up from the bar counter you see a cluster of what looked to be a bunch of shinies, smug looks painted across their faces and by that look, this was their first time visiting the famous bar. Before you divert your attention back to the task at hand, something catches your way…well someone. His grey armor standing out against the plastoid white, strategic patterns painted across his shoulder pauldrons along with his grey kama hanging off his body. Wolffe. Stolen glances and touches becoming a secret language to you both. The Commander of the 104th had a hold over you and little did you know the feeling went both ways.

Heat rises to your cheeks as you frantically try to act unbothered by his presence, your shaky hands making that difficult as you pour the rank beer into the tall glass.

“first day on the job?”

As your head snaps up your eyes are met with a clone, not one that you’ve seen before either, a shinie. Your thoughts catch up to you as you plast a fake smile across your lips. “no fondly enough” you say through a breathless chuckle. You finish pouring off the glass and slide it across the bar in his direction but before you could pull your hand back, his clasps over yours, preventing you from drawing away. “y’know…you would think that being in a club full of men like me would have you nervous, cyare” oh great. You huff out a chuckle, deciding whether or not to play into his ego, the migraine in the back of your skull having you decide to take the latter. You try to pull your hand back but his clasp only grows stronger. “what? Are you proving me right, beautiful?” he smirks, his hand slowly tracing up the back of your hand to your arm. Heart racing and breath hitching your words start to fail you, his touch making your skin crawl.

And Wolffe saw it all, he saw through your polite but fake mannerisms, he could read you like a book. But through all that, he saw how that rookie was touching you, how his hands wormed up your arm, tainting your skin, infecting your space. He hated it. He bit the inside of his cheek as his heart pumped through his chest, jealousy making his blood hot. Before he knew it, his legs had carried him over to the barstool where the shinie was sitting, back facing him.

“trooper” the shinie whips around, pulling his hand off yours, body stiffening as he looks up at the Commander towering over him, his cybernetic eye pairing the same scowl as his pierce hazel one. “C-Commander” the shinie stuttered, his confident facade now failing him and being replaced with one of fear.

“don’t you have somewhere to be… rookie” The Commander implied, his tone laced with bitterness. The cluster of rouge shinies grouped around a booth near the back of the bar erupts in a loud roar as one seemingly chugs a beer as the others cheered him on. The shinie gulps nervously as he stands to his feet “Sorry Commander, didn’t realise the miss was yours” he stumbles “head out shinie” the Commander spits. The trooper scrambles his way off the barstool, tripping over his feet in the process. Once he’s out of ear shot the Commander turns his attention back to you. Your gaze drifts from the wandering shinie back to Wolffe, his gaze unwavering. Inhaling sharply you try to mask your nervousness, hide the fact that your heart practically goes into overdrive whenever he’s near you let alone looking at you. “thanks” you manage to breathe out, those being the only words that seem to escape your mouth.

“don’t mention it” he grazed, taking the now empty seat, leaning his forearms against the bar. Your gaze stills for a moment too long before reaching to grab the glass you offered the shinie moments before.Not until Wolffe reaches for it at the same time causing your hands to overlap and touch, a spike of adrenaline stuns your spine and squeezes your lungs. Eyes meeting and bodies stiffening, his gaze is once again unwavering. Attempting to at least still the tension you pull your hand back while nervously stuttering “oh you can have it- i mean i can make you something better but if you prefer that then that’s fi-” but before you can finish his hand pulls yours back towards him, rubbing his thumb along your skin. Looking down at his hand clasping yours back up to him you see an unfamiliar expression plastered across his face. “i didn’t like the way that rookie was touching you” Words clog your dry throat as your heart threatens to burst out of your chest. Any coherent thought or sentence seems to vanish, hell your brain itself has short circuited leaving you speechless. you swallow nervously trying to soothe your dry throat before you stutter out “i- uh…it’s fine- i’m fine, happens all the time” you shrug off, your hand still clasped under his. Your words didn’t seem to soothe his mind though, his eyes practically searing scorch marks on ur skin.

He grunts in response, his hold on your hand tightening slightly before letting go reluctantly, your skin starting to crave his absent touch. “and what makes you think i’m fine with it” he retorts. Your breathing becomes shallow as your heart pumps faster and faster, your mouth agape as you try to form a coherent sentence. “c’mere” Wolffe says as he stands up from the barstool, flicking his hand initiating for you to come with him, you place the dirty rag on the edge of the sink that you’ve been mindlessly fidgeting with “Wolffe i can’t, i’ve still got to finish my shift” Now fully stood across the bar counter his gaze once again scorches your skin “i don’t care” his voice stern and fixed.

You take a breath as you match his fixed stare before walking to the edge of the bar, Wolffe following you until you reach the double swinging doors “seriously Wolffe, this better be quick i can’t-” but he grabs your forearm interrupting you, leading you to the back of the bar near the kitchen.

He turns around and grabs you by the shoulders pulling you aside into the back corner, his frame towering over you. “Wolffe?” you breathe out, his chest practically pressed against yours as you look up at him. “Do you know how much I hate seeing those shinies crawling all over you” he breathes out, his face finally sharing a glimpse of genuine emotion, something that isn’t masked, something raw “they practically praise the ground you walk on cyar’ika” the unfamiliar name rolling off his tongue effortlessly, practically turning your knees to jelly “I don't like people touching what is so obviously mine” he growls, the butterflies in your stomach virtually going haywire. “cyare…” he pauses as he leans in, his gaze drifting to your lips before wandering back up to your eyes. “i hate it”

and amongst the jealousy and raging possessiveness, a glimpse of hurt flashes across his face. He reaches his hand up to graze the end of your jaw with his thumb, his touch setting your spine alight. It was the way his voice graveled, how his hand was slowly moving from your jaw to the nape of your neck while his other hand snaked along your waist, subtly pulling the hem of your shirt upwards to trace his fingers along your skin but most of all it was how he was looking at you. His gaze constantly shifting between your eyes and your lips, his expression a mix of raw vulnerability and pure jealousy. “I practically put myself through hell when i come here, seeing how those rookies look at you…they fucking undress you with their eyes” his voice laced with vexation but not towards you, it was towards those ammature shinies that think they could practically coy with you, and that made him mad.

And before you know it Wolffe’s lips are pressed up against your skin as he starts leaving a trail of harsh kisses along the nape your neck. Your breath hitches as you feel his teeth sink into your flesh, the sting being short lived as he soothes the mark with his tongue. You rest your hands on his chest as he continues “fuck cyare” he murmurs in between kisses, both of his hands now gripping your waist, his thumbs caressing your abdomen harshly. “You have no idea” he says before marking your skin again, lazily trailing up to your jaw “what you do to me sweetheart” he murmurs near your ear before pulling back, his voice low and vexing. All words and thoughts have seemingly vanished, your brain a pile of mush as you gaze at the man towering over you. Your faces inches apart, the feeling of his breath hitting your skin only provokes how hot your muscles feel, like feeding oxygen to fire. Wolffe’s lips curl into a soft smirk as he sees how much of an effect he has over you, which unsurprisingly spurs him on even further. His gaze shifts between your lips and back up to your eyes. You wanted him to kiss you, needed him to, your body writhing under his hands, your lungs desperately trying to catch a full breath. Wolffe’s hand reaches up to cup your jaw, his thumb caressing your under eye “let me?” he asks, his brows upturned in need, eyes saying everything that his mouth can’t seem too, want, longing. Rotations of built up pining and craving over you plastered across his face, it infected the blood that ran through his veins and controlled his limbs. Everything he did, everything he said was because of his need for you.

You gaze up at him as you swallow nervously “please” you plead breathlessly, that being all the confirmation he needed as his lips caught yours.

You felt everything and nothing all at once, you felt how his gloved hand held your jaw tilting your head to meet his, how his other hand gripped tightly at the flesh of your hip, how his chapped lips molded against yours. But against all that, your brain buzzed and your body relaxed into his, you felt like you were on cloud 9. The kiss was how you would expect a kiss from Wolffe to be, harsh, chapped, filled with hunger and need but somehow gentle too. He was taking full control just like you imagined the gruff Commander would.

Wolffe too had never felt his mind be so quiet yet loud, no war zone could ever make his body be this full of pure adrenaline, his spine burning with need. Pulling back reluctantly to catch his breath he gazed down at you, your kiss swollen lips and glazed eyes making you that much more beautiful to him.

“You have no idea how long I've needed that” he says breathlessly, his chest heaving as he rests his forehead against yours. Your lips curl into a coy smile before you move the palms of your hands up from his armored chest to the back of his neck, your fingers running through the nape of his hairline “i think i can take a guess” you retort with a brazen smile “oh yeah?” he smirks, his face softly admiring every feature that paints your face. “mmhmm” you hum in response “a long time”. Wolffe chuckles in amusement at the obvious statement “yeah you could say that” he says as he tucks a stray hair behind your ear. You gaze up at him for a moment before tracing your left hand to his jaw, gently rubbing at the scar that paints his under eyes, a reminder that this might not last forever, but knowing Wolffe, not even the darkest sith lord could keep him away from you “don’t die on me anytime soon” your tone laced with sarcasm, but underlying it all you both know that’s a possibility, something neither of you want to admit. He hums in response before saying “even if i were dead cyare i wouldn’t be able to keep my hands off you”

#commander wolffe #the clone wars #tcw wolffe #tbb wolffe #wolffe x reader #star wars #clone wars #wolf pack #tumblr fyp #fanfic

[waterlilyspad]

wolffe appreciation post

based on this drawing I made last year 🥺✨️

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

#wolffe x you #rebels wolffe #commander wolffe #clone trooper wolffe #star wars wolffe #wolffe x reader #tcw #clone wars fanart #swtcw #swtcw fanart #Cw wolffe #Clone commander wolffe #Clone trooper fanart #wolffe pack #Wolf pack #loth wolf #lothal #rebels fanart #Star wars rebels #Clone wars art

[arctrooper69]

Don't Miss Me

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

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

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

Cyar'ika,

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

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

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

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

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

Wolffe

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

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

#commander wolffe x you #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe #star wars #star wars the clone wars #the bad batch #star wars the bad batch #clone wars #swtcw #sw tbb #sw tcw #clone commander wolffe #commander wolf #clone trooper #clone trooper boost #clone trooper sinker #104th battalion #tcw wolfpack #plo koon #jedi general plo koon #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb echo #tbb tech #tbb wrecker #tbb omega #the clone wars commander wolffe #tcw commander wolffe #if i don't make it back alive #clone trooper letters

[cloneloverrrrr]

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

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

Dividers by the best always @idontgetanysleep 🥰

𝗦��𝗺𝗲𝘁𝗵𝗶𝗻𝗴 𝗜𝘃𝗲 𝗡𝗲𝘃𝗲𝗿 𝗛𝗮𝗱 ⠀

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝟵 𝗣𝗮𝗿𝘁 𝟮

𝗥𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀:🔞 𝗠𝗶𝗻𝗼𝗿𝘀 𝗗𝗢 𝗡𝗢𝗧 𝗶𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗿𝗮𝗰𝘁 𝗠𝗮𝘁𝘂𝗿𝗲 𝗰𝗼𝗻𝘁𝗲𝗻𝘁

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

𝗪𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 3540

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

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

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

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

Unsure if this is reality or some fucked up dream.

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

Weak, he is fucking weak and he knows it.

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

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

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

“Copy that brother.”

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

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

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

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

“Fuck” he curses under his breath pained.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Silence. One with a life of its own.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Finn.”

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

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

“His name is Commander Wolffe”

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

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

Another scoff.

“Yeah alright clone…”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Thank you Rex”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

That long silence is back.

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

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

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

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

Wolffe lets out a small grunt before nodding.

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

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

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

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

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

“Where is she?” Wolffe hisses.

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

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

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

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

“Wolffe….” Your words oh so quiet.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“But it won’t be fucking quick”

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

“Shabuir” Raven grunted through a clenched jaw.

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

Her heart pained for them.

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

A stillness falls the room.

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

Slowly with intent to cause the upmost unbearable affliction.

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

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

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

“It does however seem that she wants you…”

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

His dry lips graze against the bob in your throat.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

“Let her go she’s carrying my child”

Wolffe finally yields. He’s fucking seething.

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

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

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

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

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

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

Once the link closes Rex questions them.

"Want to fill me in?"

Raven nods to Fox to explain.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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#clone thot #talk to me about clones #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x you #wolffe x you #commander wolffe x oc crystal #commander wolffe angst #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe lover #clone simp #104th battalion #the wolf pack #Spotify

[bamfahsoka]

Change of Fate: Chapter 1

NO WARNINGS for the chapter!😊👍

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

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

 "Team 1 in position" Jesse replied 

"Team 2 in position" Fives reported

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

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

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

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

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

 " Let's take down some tinnies boys!"

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

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

Jesse's voice came across your comm

  "Droids are approaching position." 

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

   "Fire!"

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

 "Well done boys!"  You cheered. 

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

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

 "Y/N!" 

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

Wolffe ran to your side. 

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

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

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

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

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

   "RESTRAIN TUP!" 

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

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

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

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

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

Suddenly Master Plo's voice rang in your ears.

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

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

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

Rex looked Wolffe straight in the eye, and said

    

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

Wolffe nodded in response

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Next Fives jumped in with obvious worry in his voice 

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

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

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

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

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

     "We got your back General" Rex replied confidently. 

The rest of the Torrent boys nodded in agreement. 

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

     "I understand Master, thank you".

     "May the Force be with you".

    "And with you". 

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

#star wars #captain rex #the clone wars #star wars the clone wars #commander wolffe #clone wars #swtcw #clonelove #fuck palpatine #palpatine #everyone lives/nobody dies #no order 66 #fix it fic #slow burn #arc trooper fives #501st legion #104th battalion #commander wolffe x you #wolf pack #clone trooper x reader #fuck canon #non canon #canon divergent au

[songofsoma]

BALDUR’S GATE 3

Karlach x F!Tav

All Roads Lead to You

one two three four

To Know Her, Body and Soul (NSFW)

The Hands That Heal

Until You See Stars (NSFW)

Sleepless (NSFW)

Take Her Apart (NSFW)

Beloved

A Very Nice Dream (NSFW)

Shadowheart x F!Tav

Where Anyone Could See (NSFW)

Bound to Me (NSFW)

Lae’zel x F!Tav

A Dirty Way to Win (NSFW)

Minthara x F!Tav

Worship of the Godless (NSFW)

Mizora x Reader

Deal With a Devil (NSFW)

Jaheira x Reader

A Lesson Learned (NSFW)

Dame Aylin x Isobel Thorm

Under the Light of Her Moon

THE WAYHAVEN CHRONICLES

Ava du Mortain x F!Detective

Safe With You

You Are Everything

Always Yours

Lucky

A Reminder of You

A Night With You (NSFW)

My Mellilla

Her Undoing

Abyssal Heart

Her Pale Knight

Chasing Nightmares

I'm Here

Genesis

Tendrils of Honey

You on My Mind (NSFW)

Undone (NSFW)

A Test of Strength [ for @aelwen ]

Five More Minutes

A Touch of a Temptress

Kiss Me Goodbye

Beg (NSFW)

To Protect You [ for @aelwen ]

Upon an Eternal Moon

Counting Scars

Biting Words (NSFW)

Vulnerable

Acts of Love

Under the Mistletoe

Call of Midnight

Empty Beds and Wanting Hearts (NSFW in first part)

All You Need is Love (And Salt)

A Little Reward (NSFW)

A Wish to be Loved

Adam du Mortain x F!Detective

Everything [ for @ladiemars ]

Until Death [ for @ladiemars]

Nate Sewell x F!Detective

Northern Star [ for @pixelnights ]

Prompts (mixed pairings)

a clumsy kiss [ for @pixelnights ]

come back here right now [ for @rosejellyy ]

bloody kiss [ for @ladiemars ]

kissing in the stairwell

do you want this

kisses that start from the fingers

a kiss that trails down the jaw

THE EXILE

Syfyn Javall x F!Commander

Light of a Guiding Star

Where We Stand

Touch (NSFW)

ASSASSIN'S CREED VALHALLA

F!Eivor x Soma

A Waking Dream

F!Eivor x Randvi

My Drengr

No Lone Wolves

Divinity is the Shape of a Woman

Ice-Kissed

ASSASSIN'S CREED ODYSSEY

Kassandra x Reader

The Eagle and the Sparrow

Sea Maiden

part 1

part 2

#fic masterpost #my last one was broken #im sorry if u get tagged it means i love u #my writing #twc #the wayhaven chronicles #assassin's creed valhalla #ava du mortain #adam du mortain #nate sewell #twc morgan #farah hauville #soma jarlskona #eivor the wolf kissed #friend's ocs #eivor x randvi #female eivor #ac odyssey #assassin's creed odyssey #kassandra x reader #the exile #syfyn javall x commander #syfyn javall x f!commander #bg3 #baldur’s gate 3 #karlach #shadowheart #lae'zel #bg3 mizora

[starlightrows]

6 — Debt

Hiding In Plain Sight

← Previous - Next →

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x reader

Word Count: 4.6k

Warning: Description of traumatic injury, battlefield first aid, mild extortion, trauma responses, unhealthy reactions to trauma, angst

Summary: You are invited to join the men in painting your armor, and the team suffers another brutal loss

Thank you to my lovely beta reader and literal medical consultant for battle wounds and medical care Dr Vee! @thefact0rygirl​

The next several days on shore leave are spent much the same as the first. Wandering around the streets of Coruscant. Laughing, talking, trying new foods, making out in alleyways just because you can, dancing at 79’s and fucking all hours of the night back at the hotel. It’s liberating to be able to spend time in a clone safe space where you can be open about your relationship. Truly a dream come true. Unfortunately no dream lasts forever.

You hug Rigga goodbye and promise you’ll call her when you can. She kisses your cheek and begs you to be safe out there.

“You too handsome” she winks at Wolffe.

You feel a bit embarrassed heading back onto the GAR base in your uniform, some of the beautiful hickeys Wolffe gifted you are prominent and unmistakable. You try your best to hide them, even from him, no need to put both of you in an awkward position.

This still has to remain a secret. You decide your lie for where these hickeys came from is that you ran into an old friend and hooked up with them. Sounds believable enough. You mostly just hope no one will ask. Of course the moment you’re back on base and walking through the men’s barracks, Slush is all over you.

“Well well well, what do we have here?” he crows. You attempt to pull your collar up a little higher and walk faster. “Get a little lucky on shore leave Doc?”

You glare at him and give a once over “I see you didn’t.”

“Ouch! That hurts, Doc. Truly I am wounded” he says dramatically. You give him an unimpressed look.

“Don’t you have a ship to repaint or a jet engine to tinker with?” You ask pointedly

“Actually yes. Do you want to see the design I picked for the nose of our gun ship?” he asks, grabbing his data pad.

“Sure” you’re glad for the change in topic, but also you are genuinely curious. He pulls up a digital image he appears to have drawn himself of General Plo Koon and two indistinct clone trooper helmets, and the words “Plo’s Bros” above it.

“Well? What do you think?” He asks, pushing the data pad into your hands.

“I think you’re a way better artist than I thought,” you chuckle “And I think it’ll be great for the nose of the ship.”

“Thanks Doc” He grins, taking his data pad back.

“Are you looking forward to repainting your armor?” you ask him, “Got any good designs in mind?”

“A few” he nods, swiping to some different images on his data pad to show you “I made some stencils for the more complicated pieces, and so everyone can have a Loth wolf if they want one”

“I want one!” Cinder grins walking into the barracks with Jag and Cricket in tow behind him. Jag and Cricket look a little worse for wear, first timers at 79’s always land up with two day long hangovers.

Cricket plops down on his bunk face down “Question. Does paint smell anything remotely like spotchka?” he groans

“Don’t say that word” Jag gaggs a bit

“I’ll get you guys some electrolyte drinks and soda crackers” you laugh “But really Slush these are great. The team will look unified and cool as hell with these Loth wolves”

“I’m ready for our team to look like a team,” he admits, shutting off his data pad.

“We do look sort of out of place with everyone having mismatched colors or no color at all” Cinder agrees.

While you step away to get homemade hangover cures for the shinies, the rest of the men discuss their plans to decorate their armor and choose stencils that Slush made to help the less artistically inclined have good looking armor.

A few days later, Cricket and Jag’s hangovers are gone. The team goes about their daily duties and functions on base, and regale each other with overexaggerated stories of their few days spent on shore leave. They’ve anxiously been waiting for the paint to come in so they can get started on their armor. Comet and Slush sanded their previous armor paint almost immediately. Sinker, Boost and Wolffe waited a bit longer. But they were all ready and primed to go when the delivery arrived. Like school children they ran for the empty mess hall, shoving each other out of the way and hurriedly setting up the paint tarp so they could all spread out and finally personalize their armor.

You have never officially been a member of a unit or a squad in your time serving with the GAR. You’ve been on temporary assignment with various groups, but not a member. You’re a little unsure if the sharing of paint is an open practice or if participation in decorating your GAR issued body armor is extended to you. You had thought about asking Wolffe about it privately, but you didn’t want that to be taken as inviting yourself to participate either. So while they are all engrossed in their painting, you slip away, not wanting to assume or impose on them.

Instead, you go back to your office to get some work done. Not that you actually accomplish much, you’ve been distracted the last few days. You haven’t had a chance to have any sort of private, non work related, conversation with Wolffe since getting back from shore leave. And damn do you miss him already. The hickies he left you with have begun to fade, you find your thoughts lingering on the feeling of his warm lips against your wet skin under the shower water. His hands gripping your hips hard enough you can still feel it if you concentrate.

You’re drawn out of your work and your thoughts by a knock at the door. “Come in” you call. You look up and see Wolffe standing in the doorway.

He closes the door behind him and leans back on the frame with his arms crossed. “So you’re not painting your armor? Should I be worried you’re getting transferred?”

“What? No, of course I’m not being transferred,” you shake your head “I just… didn’t want to assume armor painting was an open practice for civilian soldiers too.”

“The colors are closed to all except those who are in a given unit. You are part of this unit, as much as the rest of them.” he explains

You smile a bit “Then it will be my honor to wear the gray paint, Commander.”

He pushes off the door frame and comes over to you. You stand to meet him, seeing the urgency of his movements. He gets a hand around the back of your neck and pulls you to him, kissing you hotly.

You thought about telling him that Slush almost blew your cover seeing the hickies. But you think better of it, maybe it wouldn’t be the best idea to tell him. You don’t want him to feel guilty or stop kissing you right now. It’s meant to be a secret, after all. So you keep it to yourself and keep kissing him.

“Hmm… we… we should stop,” you pull away as much as you can with his hand pressed firmly against your neck. “Before people start to wonder what’s taking so long.”

You’re right of course. But he wishes more than anything that he could just say fuck all that and spend the rest of the day making out with you. He lets out a deep sigh, giving you one last kiss before pulling away, “Later then.”

You nod and push him away from you, prompting him to lead you back to the team who are already well on their way with their new paint jobs. Some have opted for more traditional color block patterns, most have artwork or symbols on their pauldrons or shin pieces. You sit down between Slush and Cricket, ever the artists painting intricate designs. You have no idea what to paint on your armor. You hadn’t given it any thought whatsoever given that you were under the impression you wouldn’t be painting your armor at all.

Still you can’t help the warm feeling that blossoms in your chest. It's nice to finally have a color. To be part of this team. This family. You of course are required to keep your red medical designation visible on your pauldron. But that doesn’t stop you from painting a gray stripe down your vambraces and one of Slush’s Loth wolf stencils on your back plate. A secret way to drive Wolffe a little crazy, but also show team spirit.

When all of the armor is painted and dried, you and most of the others put on your full kit and look at yourselves in the training room mirror. A calm quiet settles over the team. Thinking of the people they’ve served with before, of the places they’ve been, the people they’ve lost. Thinking of Mav.

You look good together. A full ensemble. A family. A team.

———

A few weeks pass. The team gets sent out on a painless and all together boring escort mission. Accompany General Plo on various matters of Jedi business. But aren’t seeing a lot of action. Not that anyone is complaining.

Slush has finally given up trying to get you to share the juicy details about your secret rendezvous during shore leave and is entirely oblivious to the fact that you and Commander Wolffe spend nearly every night together in the same sleeping quarters. It’s been much easier lately with less officers on base.

But this morning you are called to the command center bright and early. Armor on, caf in hand, and receiving orders to assemble the pack to protect a planet and its natural resources.

Wolffe coms the team and you’re airborne in under 20 minutes. Apparently this planet is called Khorm, and people that live there have discovered naturally occurring mineral deposits that give off energy. It takes an inexplicable amount of time, care and labor to extract these minerals as large stones. But once extracted they function like batteries that could power a Coruscanti skyscraper for the next thousand years.

The Pack disembarks on the planet and sets up a defensive perimeter around the mining plant. But it’s too little too late, the Separatists are already upon you. The opposition is led by Ventress, wielding her dual red lightsabers and showing no restraint when it comes to enemies or civilians.

Wolffe calls for the team to retreat father into the plant, and calls for an air strike. He himself rushes to guard the storage room where all of the stones are being kept.

He keeps his blasters trained on the open door, waiting for Ventress to make an attempt on the stones. He’s already tired, and trying to catch his breath. He waits. She must be waiting too. Waiting for him to let his guard down. He won’t let it happen. His heart pounds beneath his armor. This is taking too long. Something isn’t right.

He’s not sure what alerted him to it. Maybe a small sound. A shift in the air. The feeling of being watched. He turns fast just in time to see Ventress dropping down from an air vent with her glowing red blade drawn. He raised his blaster, only for her to slice it in half on a downward swing.

He sees a flash of red and feels a violent push that knocks his back against the far wall. He can hear someone screaming. Howling in pain. He knows that voice. Is it Slush? Sinker or Boost? Not another brother… A moment later he realizes it’s him. It is his own voice. And all he can see is the inside of his deactivated helmet viewing shield.

————

You hear it. Through the silence a spray of blaster fire, followed by the ignition of a lightsaber, a clattering impact… that’s when you turned on a dime and started sprinting blindly down the hallway. Slush and Jag at your heels. The screaming. Agonized, blood curdling, screaming. You’re almost there. Almost there. The screaming stops.

He’s laying in a heap near the door. No longer screaming. Barely moving. Slush and Jag leap right over him and go after Ventress, you drop to your knees and throw off your med pack.

“Commander?” You call out, trying to see if he’ll respond “Commander Wolffe can you hear me?”

No intelligent response.

You com the group “Commander Wolffe is down. Sinker, you are in command. Finish the mission. Cricket, call for a medevac. Right now”

A chorus of Yes sir’s come through the com as you lean over him. His helmet is nearly cloven in half on the right side. Carefully you disengage the chin lock that seems to be the only thing keeping the two halves together at this point and separate them. You make sure not to let his head or neck move.

What you find under his helmet is gruesome to say the least. You can tell immediately there is nothing you can do to save the right eye. This is bad. One of the worst battlefield injuries you’ve ever seen. He’s in shock, but still breathing. You do what you can with what you have, apply steristrips to hold the wound closed,try to stop the bleeding and monitor his vitals to make sure he’s still breathing well enough on his own. You don’t know how much longer he can hold though, and you’re worried that the adrenaline will crash him and he’ll bleed out before help can arrive

“Cricket, where’s that medevac?” You bark into the com

“2 minutes out. Do you need assistance, Captain?” He responds

“Negative” you tell him “Get that evac team here, now”

2 minutes is a dangerously long time when a patient is unstable and in critical condition. He seems to be coming to a bit, becoming more aware of his surroundings. You don’t know what else you can do for him right now. You feel so helpless watching the monitor with his vitals like it will somehow make things better.

You try to stay in his limited field of view, if he can even see anything right now. Your own adrenaline from this whole ordeal is just beginning to taper.

“Wolffe?” You try to get his attention again, your voice a bit shaky.

To your surprise his lips move. He’s trying to say something. Your name maybe?

“Hey. Focus up” You tap your cheek, just under your eye to give him somewhere to focus his attention. His eye seems to focus on your face. At least he can hear your voice, and might be processing your words “Don’t you quit on me. You hear me? Don’t give up”

There’s a commotion down the hall. The medevac team has arrived. You direct them to get him on a spine board, and get him started on an IV. You didn’t give him a full body check on the scene, given that his direct trauma was more pressing. You perform one now and find that he appears to have no other injuries aside from his face.

Cricket and Cinder join you and the medevac team. “Captain, Ventress is gone, escaped on a shuttle. The confederate troops are receding” he Cinder tells you

“And the stones?” You ask, moving quickly with the medevac team

“Secured” Cricket confirms

“Good. Round up the lads and let’s get the hell out of here” you tell him

“Where are they taking the Commander?” Cricket asks, as you approach the medevac shuttle

“The closest medical frigate” you tell him “Meet us there”

“Yes sir” he and Cinder nod

With Wolffe loaded up on the transport and now having at least a few more medical supplies on hand, you and the medevac team start addressing his injuries more critically. You do your best to fill in the other medics with the knowledge you have on the situation, and direct them to start him on some antibiotics. They follow your orders diligently and confirm your previous suspicion that his eye is damaged beyond repair. But his facial structure can be saved if the surgical droids are prepped and ready when you arrive on the medical frigate.

You com ahead, letting them know what to expect to give him the best possible chance to pull through this. It occurs to you that this could be it. He could die. And you would have to mourn a teammate, again. But also a lover. And no one would ever be allowed to know about it. You can’t face that reality right now. All you can do is focus on him, right now. What is the next right step to save him?

If he lives… well he can’t continue on without two functioning eyes. You won’t let him be decommissioned or put on custodial duties for the rest of his days for something so trivial. Prosthetics are somewhat uncommon among GAR troopers. But you have an idea.

You step away from him and place a com call to your home planet. It connects and before the person on the other end can get in a greeting you start talking.

“Devlan. It’s me. I’m calling in that favor” you say curtly

There is a beat of silence on the other end of the line “You’re not fucking serious?”

“I am sending you coordinates and paperwork right now. Meet me on this medical frigate with whatever equipment you need. Save my patient and your debt to me is settled” you say “Unless you want me to—”

“No!” They cut you off “If I do this, we’re square? No more holding that shit over me?”

“A deal is a deal, Devlan. Save my patient, and you’ll never hear a word from me again. I promise” you’re nearly ready to beg, but you know you have to keep the authority and severity in your voice for this to work

“Alright, alright. I’ll be there. Send the coordinates” They relent.

By the time you hang up the com call, the shuttle is arriving. Wolffe is unloaded and swept away by a team of medical droids. If your plan works… and Wolffe holds out, this first procedure will save his face and his life. And if Devlan holds up his end of the deal, Wolffe will be fitted for a state of the art cybernetic eyepiece that Devlan has been developing and perfecting for the last seven years.

Now that Wolffe’s care is out of your hands, you finally slump into a chair and let your exhausted body rest. You pass out almost immediately in the waiting area. Hours later you blink awake and wince at how sore your muscles feel, and how bright the lights are. You look around and see the entire squad is also sitting in the waiting area, in various states of wakefulness. Some of them with bandages on their faces and arms.

Slush is passed out next to you, with his head leaned against yours in sleep. You look around at all of them. None seem too badly injured, but all look exhausted and worried. The only person who seems to be fully awake is Sinker. He notices you’ve woken up and shoots you a look.

“We won” he says dryly.

“That’s… good,” You say with a bit of a crackle in your voice

“Won’t be worth shit if Wolffe dies” he says, looking away

You want to say something like… “He’ll make it” or “He’ll be okay” but you can’t. You can’t even lie to yourself at this point. Because there is a chance he won’t pull through, and he will be gone.

You don’t want to think about what happens to battalions who lose their commander. You don’t want to think about what life will be like on this team without him. This team has finally come together and bonded as a group. This team feels more like a family than a military unit. You’ve already lost one member of this family. You can not bear to lose another.

Hours pass. Eventually the team starts waking up, and filling each other in on the rest of the mission. All of them are looking to you for answers about Wolffe. You tell them the truth, not wanting to keep anything from them.

“He was in pretty bad shape when we got there,” you start out, careful with your words.

“We have the broken halves of his helmet,” Comet says “I’m surprised he’s even alive.”

You nod “Right now, the surgical droids are working to clear away the tissue that can not be saved. And reconstruct part of his cheek bone,” you tell them. Most of them wince. “He’s going to lose the right eye.”

The room goes silent, but before any of them can panic you keep going.

“I did something… a bit unorthodox,” you admit “I called in a long overdue favor to get Wolffe into a program that’s in its final stages of beta testing before being released to the general population. He’s going to get a cybernetic eye.”

Their reactions range from relieved to confused. You’re about to elaborate further when a protocol droid comes into the room, calling your name and asking you to accompany it. You get up and follow it down a series of hallways to a recovery room.

You open the door and see your old pal Devlan standing by Wolffe’s bedside. You have to put on a brave face.

“Devlan,” you acknowledge them. They gives you an extremely displeased look.

“I was supposed to be giving a lecture on slow release bacta injections right now,” They say bitterly

“But instead you’re nobly saving this man’s life,” you shrug.

“No. Instead I’m settling my debt,” they say pointedly

“We’ll see about that,” you look down to Wolffe “How’s my patient?”

“Surprisingly resilient,” Devlan admits. “He’s stable, and the prosthetic seems to have integrated seamlessly. After a few weeks of physical therapy he won’t even know it’s there.”

“Good. Leave post op care instructions with me and a physical therapy referral, and I’ll consider us square,” you say cooly, though your heart is pounding in your chest

“Done.” They pull a prescription pad out of their jacket pocket, scribble down a referral notice and hand it to you. “Care instructions are already on the side table”

You take the prescription receipt and tuck it into your pocket quickly, “Thank you Devlan. I genuinely appreciate it.”

“Yeah yeah,” They roll their eyes. “Com me if there are any problems with the eyepiece. Other than that… no offense but please don’t com me.”

“No worries. I can take it from here,” you tell them. And with that Devlan walks right by you, going back to their life.

And with that the waiting game begins. You don’t know when he will wake up, but you want to be there for him when he does. There is no point in having the whole team wait around for that, so you give the orders for them to return to the base and await further orders from your or General Plo. The only person who remains with you is Slush, and it’s mostly so he can make repairs and modifications to the ship.

A full day passes, and it isn’t until late in the afternoon, the second day out of surgery, that he begins to show signs of waking up. You’ve basically set up camp in his recovery room, working on your data pad in the extra chair with a small mountain of disposable caf cups beginning to pile up in the waste bin beside you.

He looks okay for the most part now, except for the heavy bandage obstructing the right side of his face. You flip through the little packet of care instructions for the hundredth time, there’s nothing too groundbreaking about it but you are beginning to feel antsy and anxious. Little distractions like this do almost nothing to make you feel better, but it’s something.

He stirs, snapping you out of your haze. He pinches his eyes shut tight and groans. You sit up quickly and lean forward, holding his wrist.

“Commander?” You call out to him. “Commander Wolffe, can you hear me?”

He groans in pain, visibly wincing and holding back a whimper.

“Hey” You say softer, getting into his field of view.

“Doc?” He asks, clearly confused trying to open his eyes.

“It’s me,” you nod

“W-why can’t I see?” He asks, a note of panic in his voice.

“You’re injured,” You say calmly. “Can you remember anything?”

He winces again, speaking makes the right side of his head burn in a straight line down his face. He shakes his head.

“Why can’t I see?” He mutters with tight lips, trying not to move his face.

You swallow the lump forming in your throat. It is so much harder to have these conversations with someone who means something to you.

“We were on Khorm,” You say gently. “Protecting those relic stones that function like batteries. Do you remember?”

He nods his head, but doesn’t open his eyes.

“Asajj Ventress was leading a platoon of confederation soldiers and droids…” Your voice cracks as you see a single tear form at the corner of his left eye and steak down the side of his face towards his ear. You can’t find your voice. He remembers. He knows.

“How bad is it?”

“The surgical droids repaired your cheek and brow bone,” you tell him “We couldn’t save your eye, but I—“

“You should have let me die,” His empty, cold voice cuts you off.

Your grip on his wrist stiffens. “Don’t say that. Don’t ever say that.”

“I would have rather died a commander than be decommissioned and sent back to Kamino,” He doesn’t even sound angry, it’s just hollow.

You place a hand on his right shoulder and lean over him so you know he will be able to see you. “Look at me,” you say warmly. His brown eye opens, and peers at you. “You are not being decommissioned. I didn’t give up on you. We didn’t give up on you. Don’t you dare give up on yourself.”

He studies your face. Your beautiful face. Right now it’s impassively neutral but holding back a flood of other emotions. Relief he has survived. Disbelief at his apparent apathy for his own life. And something else, something he can’t place.

“Deformed and damaged clones don’t lead, Doc,” he shakes his head as best he can. “A one-eyed clone can’t command a battalion.”

“Well then it’s a damn good thing you aren’t a one eyed clone.”

“What are you talking about? You just said—“

“I said we couldn’t save your eye. You happen to be an extremely lucky man to have a fully bio integrated cybernetic eye piece donated to save your life,” you say.

“It doesn’t matter, Doc. I should have been a dead man a long time ago. Droid parts or not, I have no business leading or living anymore” He doesn’t even flinch.

The heavy mix of emotions swirl in your mind. You’re worried it’s about to bubble up and show on your face as frustration and anger. Or worse crying. You couldn’t stand it if you cried in front of him. You know better. You are better than this. He can not be blamed for his reaction to this severely traumatizing experience. But his preference for death over a chance at life, his willingness to throw away his squad, his brothers, you…. You can’t help the hurt forming as a pit in your stomach.

He doesn’t say anything.

“Commander, I trust that you will stay in this bed and rest until you’re discharged into my care. I need to go update your squad and superiors,” you say, excusing yourself to cool off.

#commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #Hiding In Plain Sight #Wolffe Pack #Wolf Pack

[mh073099]

“I’ll Find You” - Captain Rex x Reader Part 1

Lovers to Enemies to Lovers with some spy razzle dazzle AU~ 

Masterlist  Prologue 

Part 1 - Can’t Take My Eyes Off Of You 

Warnings: Time Jump: Manipulation: Violence: Death: a hint of Angst: Mothers are their own warning, but yes mommy issues. Have you seen Tangled? Age gap could also be a thing, but I am thinking Rex is in his mid 20s while our is now turned 18 and while there is sexual tension and some touches, this is just the beginning mfs, I am a fan of time jumps. 

Washington D.C., US - 01/01/2067   06:30

It’s cold. So cold I can’t feel my nose and the air hurts my lungs.

Still, I keep running. I look down to see Ace at my side, happy to frolic in the snow and ice. At least one of us is happy. Laps around the Washington monument have become a morning routine the past year. At least I knew about moving to D.C. this time. Over the past three years, I have been dragged all over the world. Trained, tortured and honed into the weapon I was born to be. But I don’t dwell on the past. Learn the lesson and move on. Stop thinking about it.

I finish up my last lap and make my way over to the woman reading a newspaper on a bench. She looks unbothered by the cold in her black peacoat, and no nonsense look on her face. As if the cold knew better then to bother her.

I sit down next to her, and she passes me a coffee.

“Good morning mother.” I say, taking sips of the bitter deliciousness.

She hums in response. We sit in silence for a moment. Ace’s head on my lap looking unbothered by our morning run. I close my eyes and tilt my head back, enjoying the silence.

“I need to make my dinner reservations before it’s too late,” my mother states.

Here we go.

“Do you know what time you’ll be having dinner?” I ask.

“I’m thinking about 07:30 tonight.” She sniffs into the cold. “I’m bringing Mark.”

“A Special friend?” I can’t help the cheek in my voice,  

“A very special friend.” Mother Smirks into her coffee.

“Where will you and this special friend be dining tonight?” I look over at her.

She’s so regal. Poised. Dressed in all black, hair in a slick ponytail. Her Gray eyes are sharp, but the lines around them are soft. The faintest hint of a smile on her face is soft too. She looks over at me, and I feel 15 again. I want to trust her.

Don’t be fooled, I hear her voice in my head.

“Vermillion. I’m craving a steak.”

“And for dessert?”

She looks away before answering. “I don’t think I will have time for dessert.”

Red Flag. No Dessert means no extraction. I’ll have to get away on my own. This isn’t something I’ve done before. There is always an exit strategy.

“Grown-ups don’t always have time for dessert,” is left in the air. So many words between us are left in the air. They suffocate me.

“Dessert is overrated anyway,” I chuckle. Best not to dwell on things that will not change.

“But before I go to dinner, I need to go to the dry cleaners. Pick up 2 orders I’ve placed.”

She means I need to head to the armorer and pick up new gear. New Gear? No Extraction teams?  What’s going on?

“How’s your arm?” She asks, ending the former conversation that has my focus. Instructions were clear. The execution of said instructions are also clear.

“It’s Fine. Little stiff from the cold,” I reply rolling my shoulder. The twinge reminds me of my 18th ‘birthday gift’.

“Next time, maybe you won’t be so clumsy,” she says as she gets up.

Right. Clumsy. That’s what that was.

“I hope you enjoy dinner!” I call out to the women, picking up the newspaper she let on the bench.

“So do I!” She calls back without looking.

She never looks back.

 Washington D.C. – 01/01/2067   19:56

The bar is loud. Pulsing to a beat I don’t care about, with bodies bumping and humping everywhere. The air is sticky with the sugary sent of alcohol and the floor wet with substances I have no interest in discovering.

Perfect.

I move deeper into the bar, losing the long coat, throwing it across a passing chair. I let my hair down and move to the dance floor. I let myself get lost in the bodies, disappear into the heat of the animals I have now become apart of. Swaying and twirling, my hips moving this way and that. The adrenaline pumping through my veins puts a thin veil of sweat over my skin. To any on looker, I’m just a girl cutting loose. And I am, I take a brief second to enjoy myself.

But only for a second. As I move my hips to the deep base line, I twirl and keep watch of my exits. Looking for whoever might follow. I left the scene clean. There were no hiccups, dinner went as planned. But it was always better to stay vigilant. Always assume the worst.  

To blend in, you must believe the story you are selling, yourself. So I do just that. I let it all go. And I dance.

 Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 09:00

I make my way back to my apartment, thinking of my instructions while Ace walks paces in front of me.

‘I need to make dinner reservations before it’s too late.’ – She means I have a new mark with a quick deadline. Planning will be minimal, and location may not be private. Which means possible interference.

‘I’m thinking 07:30’ - obviously, meet the mark at 07:30. The sniff was her sign that this had a small window of opportunity. Less that 10 minutes.

Vermillion was the closest restaurant to the target. That’s where I need to be near before receiving exact coordinates to my mark.

‘Craving steak’ - this meant mark wouldn’t make it out of this dinner alive.

This would be my 5th time killing for the cause. Sleep isn’t as easy as it used to be. This is what I was trained to do. Mother would not accept failure. My shoulder twinged in reminder of the last time I failed.  When your own mother shoots you, because you fail to kill someone things are put into perspective fairly quickly. It was a reminder that I do not live in a perfect world that the republic would like us to believe.

I’m luckier than some. Mother shooting me was a lesson I had to learn, right?

Wrong.

It could be worse.

It could be him.

I resolve myself from my thoughts.

Only through victory are my chains broken. Then I shall be free.

I am breaking chains. That’s all this is.

 Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:02

For a little over an hour, I danced by myself and who ever I was around. It wasn’t until I was craving water and heading to the bar that I realized I could feel eyes on me. I looked and my eyes met his.

Handsome was my first thought.

  Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 14:22

After getting to my apartment, I started my prep. My go bag was secured, and Ace was made ready if I needed a quick escape and he had to meet me somewhere. When we made our move to D.C. permanent, I trained him to meet at the monument if he hears a bell, I can play by pressing a button on my cell. Smartest dog I have ever met that one. After showering, cleaning and prepping, I looked around.

I always felt detached when dinner plans were made. I still haven’t gotten used to living alone. The only thing that makes this place home is Ace.

Not wanting to linger, I made my way to the dry cleaners of Elm and Main. A front for a private armory for the cause. Supplied by smugglers and ran by the ugliest women I have ever met. Talzin was mean and cold. But she could fix anything and supply you with everything. It was like magic. Dark magic, really.

Walking in, a young bald woman behind the counter looks up at me with a blank face.

“I have a pickup for 2 orders.” I say nonchalant, picking up a sweet from the bowl on the dusty counter.

“Name?” the woman’s voice is raspy, like she’s smoked 5 packs a day and didn’t know how to quit.

“I hardly think that’s necessary. I frequent this establishment often enough. I’d like to speak with management please.” I huff. My face is straight, by my eyes scream try me.

Her brow narrows. “One moment please,” and she disappears into the back.

I hear the door lock behind me, ultra-aware of the fact that there’s now a man in front of the door. A rather large man in fact. His imposing figure doesn’t bother me as much as it used to. His nickname Savage was earned, my mother had told me. I didn’t ask for details on how. Thankfully, she never gave them. Just one of those things you get used to, I guess.

“Let her through Ventress,” I hear faintly from the back. Then the bald woman with dead eyes appears again, through the currents that lead into the back.

“You may-“She starts, but I was already moving past her, and into a hallway. I reach the end that leads to stairs down into a basement where the voice came from. I keep going until I reach the bottom and come out into the open room. It looks like speak easy, with Dark Maroon walls, and emerald, green flooring. But instead of a bar of alcohol lining the walls, its artillery. Firearms of many shapes and sizes: grenades, blades, rockets and mortars. On the other side of the room, It looks like a tailer. Suits and dresses, made of bulletproof fabric. Shoes with false bottoms and necklaces that record everything. Ignoring the setting, it’s all pretty cool one has to admit.

“Your orders are there on the shelf girl.” Talzin rasps from a desk behind the glass firearm bar. “You have an outfit, two standard Government Issue Glock .19s, a poisoned blade, a dress and a coat with a built-in vest. Invisible to the naked eye. All more than what asset like you deserves.”

“How do you know the dress will fit.” I snark back as I reach for the bags on the counter closest to me.

“It always fits.” She glares at me. Even from afar and sitting down it feels like she is looking down at me. “You also a little something extra in there.”

“For me? Talzin, you shouldn’t have.”

“I didn’t.”

“You’re too sweet. Have a wonderful day you old goat.”

“I hope you die, menace.”

I didn’t linger there either. With a nod out to savage on my way out the door, I head home to get ready.

 Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:03

Leaning against the counter further down the bar, He stared at me. I watched his eyes rake over me and watched him watch me do the same. He was tall. Thick thighs covered by black slacks. Strong shoulders and a chest covered by a white button up just trying to hang on for dear life. Clean jaw line, full lips. Dirty blonde curls, and the most beautiful eyes I had ever seen.

I pushed the thought away but held my ground and looked him in the eye. Men were easy. Act sweeter than honey, and they land on that flower quick like a bee. I put on the mask of innocent trouble, winked and turned away. I ordered some water, and while waiting to be served, I felt a presence at my back. The warmth sent chills through my body.

“Only one reason a girl dances like that,” is whispered in my ear, the low voice rumbles from his chest. I feel like the bee.

I turn and look up through my lashes. He looks down at me with a small smirk on his lips.

Oh, how I would love to wipe that smirk off those lips.

“And what reason is that?” comes out much softer and more breathless than I meant it to.

“You’re losing yourself, to run away from something,” He lowers his chin to look me more in the eye.

“What are you, a shrink” I deadpan with a raised eyebrow, and make a face.  

His laughter flows from him like oozing lava. “You’re too young to be dancing like that. You have all the opportunities in the world open for you.”

If only you knew.

“Compared to what, old man?” I challenge with a smirk and turn to reach for my water. My comment earns me another chuckle. I relish the sound as I sip from the tiny black straw.

“Ouch. I’m not that old, just old enough.”

“Old enough to be a prude it sounds like.” I stir my straw.

“Never been described as a prude before.”

“Shocking.”

“What’s your name, princess?”

Looking up at his question, I realize he’s gotten incredibly close. Practically caged in at the bar. All my instincts scream at me to get out of this conversation and get the upper hand. The secret voice in my head tells me I don’t want to be anywhere else.

“You think you’ve earned my name?” I cock my head at him.

“I asked nicely, didn’t I?” he cocks his head opposite of me. He’s enjoying this. The smile, the fire in his eyes. He almost looks ready to devour me.

He’s toying with you.

“I didn’t hear a please in there, old man,” earns me another chuckle.

“How about this, we exchange information. That way we both are gaining something from it. I will give you my name, if you’ll give me yours.”

“I don’t know, I kind of liked how princess rolled off your tongue.”

“I’m sure you did.”

Neither of us step down from this stalemate. Our Eyes are locked, and the rest of the bar just falls away for a moment. Dangerous in my unchosen profession. And yet, I could die happy with that warmth staring back at me if that’s what were to happen.

He breaks the tension by stepping back and offers his hand. “I’m Rex.”

“Princess,” I wink while taking his hand. My cheekiness earns me another chuckle. My toes curl at the low sound.

“Ok princess. Would you like to dance?” He asks with a bright smile.

“I thought you’d never ask.”

  Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:10

Wearing a black cocktail dress and heels that were provided under the Bulletproof jacket, I sat on a bench outside some steak restraint, and listened to the soft snow fall, with my face up towards the sky.

The calm before the storm.

PING.

I looked down at my phone. One new Notification.

 Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:40

Dancing with him felt like playing with fire.

“Rex” softly leaving my lips as he trailed kisses across my shoulder felt like a prayer.

“Princess” being whispered into my ears felt like God decided to answer.

My head said it was time to leave. Forget the man with eyes made of honey, and leave.

My Heart said stay, and so did his hands. He gripped my hips just so and oh-

  Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:28

I made my way into the Hotel, retrieving a room key from a pot plant in the corner of a hallway on the second floor.

I made my way to the 6th floor.

Room 612.

I knock.

  Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 21:59

We’ve been dancing so long that my feet start to hurt. I don’t want to stop. His arms around me make me feel safe. The grip of his fingers on my hips, moving them against his to the beat. He’s spun me and twirled me and let his fingers trail across my shoulders and arms, down my sides and just barely over my thighs more times than I can count. I let my hands wander just as much. His chest is broad and firm, solid and sturdy. His hands dwarf mine and consume them. His thighs are large, and oh so delicious. I must keep my thoughts on what I would do on those thighs at bay, lest I get more than I bargained for.

This is for appearances. An alibi. I’m trying to lie to myself that I’m not actually enjoying his warm body moving against mine. When did everything I do, start becoming I lie I have to tell myself?

 Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:29

Mark answers the door. He’s expecting a high-end escort and thinks nothing of the glint in my eye.

At least I do look expensive.

The door closes behind us.

  Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 22:01

His lips ghost the shell of my ear and I get goosebumps. I want to feel those lips outside of ghost stories that haunt the edges of my existence.

“Let’s get you something to drink, princess,” he purrs, and grabs my hand. I am helpless and follow.

It’s time for me to go. Stay. I have to be up early. Don’t go. “Another water?” he turns to me as we arrive at the crowded bar.

“Yes please.” I reply. Then think for a second. “How did you know it was water?”

“Princess, you barely look old enough to be in here, let alone drink.” His smile is soft.

“Why are you wasting your time with a child then, hmm?” I challenge with a dip in my brow.

His smile softens, if that were even possible. “You don’t seem like you’ve been a child for a very long time now.” If only I could count how many times I have gotten lost in his eyes tonight. “And I’m not that old.” He adds with a huff.

A giggle escapes me before I can stop it. “How old are you?”

“24. And you?”

“18.” I said squarely. His eyebrows rise.

“Wow, you are young.” He says, his eyes harden a tad bit and I am suddenly filled with insecurity I am not used to.

“And?” comes out my mouth, low and irritated.

“And? And nothing. You’re legal. And besides, we’re just friends.” He pokes the bear. His smirk irritates me more by the second. All that I was feeling has been channeled into annoyance. I can work with this. This can give me the upper hand.

“Oh? Friends, are we?” I challenge back.

“Oh, I hope so.”

  Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 19:30

He asks my name, and I give him a fake. Mark pretends it’s real and gives me his real name. I don’t care though. He’s still going to be Mark to me. Another Lie I have to tell myself.

He turns his back heading to the bar cart.

Sorry Mark.

Walking away almost felt too easy.

  Washington D.C. 01/01/2067 22:03

We stand there, leaning against the bar, just drinking each other in.  Drinks on the counter forgot.

Friends get hurt. I know. Fuck being friends. I know. Can’t even give him my real name. I know. I could drown in those eyes. I know. 

Love at first sight? It doesn’t exist.

At that, I hear myself say “Well Rex, It’s past this princess’s bedtime. See you around?”

With a raised eyebrow and a soft smile, he looks down at me. I detect disappointment and relief simultaneously as his shoulders relax but his jaw clenches. “Ok princess,” is more soothing than it should be. He grabs my hand, and brings it to his lips. 

“How can I find you again?” comes out of my mouth before I can even stop it.  

He chuckles, low and deep, more of a rumble than a chuckle, his fingers softly rubbing against my knuckles as he lowers my hand, still in his.

 “You won’t.” And with that, he lets go, turns and walks away.

And I? I am left reeling from whatever the fuck just happened. A thousand emotions are running through me and i-

PING.

I look at my phone.

One New Text Message from: Mother

Need to talk. Now.

Oh. I knew it was too easy.

----- 

-M.F.

#captain rex #captain rex x reader #captain rex x oc #captain rex imagine #Commander Rex x reader #Star wars clone wars x reader #Star wars #star wars clone wars #clone wars #The Clone wars x reader #Clone Trooper x reader #ARC Tropper fives #CT-7567 #CT-5555 #CT-2224 #CT-1010 #Commander Fox #Commander Cody #Commander Wolf #commander fox x reader #Commander Wollfe x reader #Commander Cody x reader #Anakin Skywalker #Obi wan kenobi #Darth maul #Talzin #Savage #Echo #clone trooper echo #The bad batch

[the-bad-batch-baroness]

You don't have to publish this, I just feel weird hopping into your DMs, so apparently asks are fine in my mind, idek, haha, but I need you to know I HAVE REREAD THE DANCING LIGHTS STORY SO MANY TIMES ashiofnhdasiofghdsifgbvibphigasbfdiousGBDFI IT'S SO GOOD

MOON MY BELOVED 💚💚💚💚💚

Okay, so I'm answering this for two reasons:

Anyone can hop into my DMs and message me at any time. I do not bite! I love interaction. Beware that I am older-sibling shaped, so you may get advice or what-not 😂 I also have a full-time job, though, so I may not always get back to you right away!

YES!!! LET US SCREAM INTO THE VOID ABOUT THE MAGNIFICENCE THAT IS DANCING LIGHTS 🤩

I'm tagging Carol (@clonethirstingisreal) because she adores this fic, too 😘

I love this fic for so many reasons:

- The plot, themes, storyline, and pacing are just fabulous.

- The characterization of Wolffe is great. I think I did a decent job balancing out his grumpy side, but also adding in those precious few moments where he's allowed to feel something other than grumpyness.

- The foreshadowing was okay, but it's hard to gauge foreshadowing as the authors 😅

- However, the conflict and tension were immaculate! I go back and read it, and my heart starts racing!

- I probably could have done a bit better with the world building, and the pacing at the very end was a little rough.

I think some people may get turned off by it because Wolffe is a wolf, but it's really hard to explain the exact dynamic without reading it. I think some people thought he was a werewolf, some other mythical creature, or it was gonna have some squicky stuff in it.

But it's really just like it sounds, Wolffe is a wolf. He has a wolf spirit that resides within his soul that allows him to transform into an actual wolf. I won't spoil the details for those who haven't read it yet, but it's wholesome.

Sorry this got long, but I love this fic so much, and I'm glad others are discovering it and enjoying it as much as I do!!!

#tbbb converses #dancing lights #wolf!wolffe x fem!reader #commander wolffe #tcw wolffe #the clone wars #star wars #fanfiction

[sinfulsalutations]

Congrats on 500 followers! Can I see Wolffe with a female reader for Prompt 2 (“I can’t believe you’re mine.”)? Maybe something soft and domestic?

➼ ɴᴏᴜʀ'ꜱ 500 ꜰᴏʟʟᴏᴡᴇʀ ᴄᴇʟᴇʙʀᴀᴛɪᴏɴ

⋆ ★ ᴛʜᴀɴᴋ ʏᴏᴜ ɴᴏɴɴɪᴇ! ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ᴀ ꜱᴏꜰᴛʏ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ ʙᴇᴄᴀᴜꜱᴇ ʜᴇ ᴛᴏᴛᴀʟʟʏ ᴅᴇꜱᴇʀᴠᴇꜱ ɪᴛ 🥰

➼ ᴘʀᴏᴍᴘᴛ ☆ "ɪ ᴄᴀɴ'ᴛ ʙᴇʟɪᴇᴠᴇ ʏᴏᴜ'ʀᴇ ᴍɪɴᴇ"

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴡᴏʟꜰꜰᴇ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴅᴏᴍᴇꜱᴛɪᴄ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴋɪꜱꜱɪɴɢ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 531

The morning air boils deep in your stomach when you awake, the sound of early rising birds chirping outside your window. You stir slowly, a deep groan leaving your lips as your senses come back to you gradually; first, your sight, as you allow your eyelids to peel back and gaze toward the sun peaking through sheer blinds, searing them half shut again when the light finally begins to burn your sight render less once again. Then, you become aware of the looming presence of a strong, muscular arm laid over your waist, hand pressing to your stomach to keep you pressed against his hard, sturdy chest.

You hum again when you feel his lashes brush against you and his lips purse, placing a lazy kiss onto your shoulders where he’d rested his head.

“Morning, baby,” He rasps in your ear, voice so honeyed and alligatored with misuse, and you smile softly to yourself.

“Morning,” you mutter back, turning over. Instinctively, your hands rise up to rest on his shoulders, and you bite your lip to contain your smile. He looks so good like this, bathed in morning light and still trying to get his bearings back. You don’t seem to be doing a very good job. 

Wolffe leans in, and you purse your lips, expecting him to give you a sweet, afterglow-covered kiss, but instead, he slowly creeps up over you, pinning his knees over your thighs and his elbows by your head. You look up at him, raising an eyebrow, and he just leans in toward your temple, leaving a kiss there instead. He then asks in a hushed whisper into your ear,

“What time is it?”

“Not sure,” You respond, hands returning to their rightful place in the crooks between his neck and shoulder. “0900, something like that.”

“Hmm,” Wolffe rumbles, pulling his face away from the side of your face and finally slotting your lips together. You keep wanting to break away, allow yourself to smile in the basking glow of his affection, but instead let him kiss you silly until he’s forced to pull away and catch his breath.

He repeats the action from before, lips pressing against your temple, then your cheek, then softly swiping down to your jaw, before coming back to your ear.

“You sleep well?” He asks. You sense the slight rustling of blankets around you and feel his hand trail over your skin, delicate and innocent, yet it lights your body aflame all the same as the sensual and intoxicating caresses he graces you with in times of heated passion. Perhaps you just can’t help yourself.

“I did,” You answer coolly, tilting your chin up as he slowly journeys down again. When his lips linger on certain spots and you feel that slight curl of a smirk against your skin, you know he’s admiring marks he’s left from the night before.

Suddenly, he pulls away, and you whine meekly, looking up with wide eyes.

“Something wrong?” you ask.

“Yeah,” Wolffe sighs, eyebrows creasing together. But he doesn’t seem annoyed. 

“I just… I can’t believe you’re mine.”

You giggle softly, pulling him down and pressing your noses together.

“You better start, handsome.”

tags: @starstofillmydream @pb-jellybeans @corrieguards @ladytano420 @jediknightjana @sleepycreativewriter @shinyshayminflower @secondaryrealm @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @dukeoftheblackstar @kimiheartblade @followthepurrgil @wolffegirlsunite @star-burned @starrylothcat @blueink-bluesoul @aconstructofamind

#nour writes stuff #nour’s 500 follower celebration #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #commander wolffe x you #104th battalion #wolf pack #tcw wolffe #wolffe x reader #wolffe smut #star wars wolffe #wolffe x you #rebels wolffe #wolffe pack #the clone wars fanfiction #star wars fanfiction #star wars #reader insert

[fairysluna]

HERE AGAIN

43. “Go on ride my thigh.” WITH HARWIN

knight in shining armor.

When the Red Keep is attacked, Ser Harwin is the one in charge of your protection. Spending the night by your side, he finds it hard to keep his emotions under control.

MASTERLIST

PAIRING — Harwin Strong x Targ!Fem!Reader.

TAGS — fluff (a bit too much, I'm sorryy), smut —thigh riding, nipple play, oral fixation, praise, virgin!reader, dirty talk—, sexual tension, descriptions of nudity, mentions of blood and violence, murder. If something is missing let me know!!

AUTHOR'S NOTE — small context: here the dance of the dragons doesn't happen, Rhaenyra never fucked Harwin and the greens and blacks are a lovey dovey family. Long live fanfiction for this. A big, big thank you to @bucknastysbabe for beta reading this!! Ilysm!!🤍

My baby bel, i think i put a bit too much fluff into the mix while writing this, but i hope you like it and enjoy it. Ilyy🤍

WORD COUNT — 3.6k

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤenglish is not my first language.

A thunderous sound woke you up from your peaceful slumber. By looking around in the darkness of your chambers, you could tell something was wrong; a strange atmosphere appeared in the air, something odd that brought an inexplicable chill in your spine. You arose from your bed, walking barefooted towards the nearest window and peeking outside - the cold wind that entered the room sent shivers through your body, causing goosebumps to arise across your skin. It had to be the hour of the Wolf, you could barely see a thing.

There was a group of guards marching towards the entrance of the Red Keep; you heard them bellow, but you were not able to make sense of their words. They ran from one side to another, picking up their swords and shields, giving commands to one another. You grew curious to know the reason behind such a fuss and the answer came quicker than you expected. While you were observing a knight standing beside the arsenal and keeping guard on the perimeter, another man silently approached him- wearing all black, camouflaging in the darkness of the night.

A small part of you told you to look away, but you stood there - eyes fixed on the guard. Curiosity killed the cat.

Out of the blue, the black-clad specter reached for the knight, and before you could discern what the man had done to him, you saw red flooding out under the moonlight - staining his prestigious white cloak. You froze in your place as you saw the guard falling to his knees before his entire body reached the dirt on the floor. The air escaped from your lungs as you witnessed such a gruesome scene, feeling your heart beating frantically in reaction.

It only became worse once the unknown man looked up, right at your window. Right at you, steely eyes glinting.

Immediately, you took a few steps back - your hand covering your mouth and muffling a squeal as soon as you realized what had happened. Chills traveled around your body, and before you realized, your cheeks were soaking with tears of horror and fear. It was suddenly hard to breathe, your chest feeling heavy and tight. That man saw you, he would certainly come after you now.

Your feet kept moving, eyes fixed in the window as you walked backwards, as far as possible from that frightening scene. In that moment, you felt your back hit something cold and hard before two strong arms wrapped around your body and squeezed you between them. You yelped, screaming hysterically with the thought that it will be your turn now - squirming desperately as you tried to be freed from the arms of the person who was holding you down.

Then you heard his voice.

“Princess, it's me!” The familiar voice exclaimed, loosening the grip around your body and allowing you to turn around to see him. He removed his helmet, throwing it onto the floor. “It's me, my sweet princess,” he repeated, this time more calm and with a soothing tone in his timbre. He placed his big, calloused hand on your cheek.

The relief washed over you as you saw your beautiful knight in shining armor standing before you, tense shoulders instantly relaxing as you locked your lilac eyes with his deep brown ones. His gaze was soft, but it still showed signs of his preoccupation for you. His thumb brushed against your skin, wiping the tears that had fallen down your face. You leaned towards his touch and he sighed.

“You're safe with me,” Ser Harwin murmured. “Everything will be okay…” His impressive frame towered over your smaller one; you had to look up at him as your hand wrapped around his wrist.

Harwin was taken aback once he felt your trembling arms wrapping around his armor. You hung from his neck as he picked you up from the floor. One of his hands held your waist, while the other went to your nape - keeping you close to him. The coldness of the metal was pressing against your cheek, and you closed your eyes - silently crying against his shoulder. Your heart fluttered inside your chest once he tightened his grip around your body; you felt safe in his arms.

“Shh… it's fine,” he cooed against your ear. His lips pressed against your head. “No one will hurt you if I'm with you, princess. No one will harm you.”

“What happened? What's going on?” you asked between sobs.

“Some miscreants managed to go through the gates, they're now being secured in the black cells. They’re trying to find those who are inside the Keep,” he explained while he slowly put you back on your feet - a soft whine involuntarily left your lips once you stopped feeling his warmth. “I've come as soon as I heard.”

“Is my family safe? My mother, my siblings? Rhaenyra and the children?”

“They are all being guarded by members of the king's guard,” Harwin replied.

You nodded before you took a look around his face, as if you were trying to search for some wound - just in case he needed your help. “Are you hurt?” A little smile appeared on his handsome face once he noticed your worry. “Did- did they hurt you?”

“No,” he answered. “And you shall not worry about me, princess…”

You pressed your lips in a thin line before murmuring - a bit embarrassed, “you know I'll always worry about you.”

Harwin paused to take a look at you; his heart beating fast with the mere sight of you, feeling like a green boy whenever you were around, staring up at him with those pretty, sparkling eyes of yours. So beautiful, so precious. It was no secret between you two that your feelings had flourished like roses in Spring. Yet, even when the deep affections were obviously mutual, both of you were scared to act on it. It was forbidden, and - somehow - that made it even more tempting for both. How scandalous, King Viserys daughter has the Hand’s son as a paramour.

“Mayhaps your royal highness should go back to sleep,” Harwin suggested. “On the morrow all this would be just a faint memory.”

“I don't think I will be able to do it,” you told him, taking a step back and wiping your tears away. “I lost all my sleep with what I've just seen…it was awful, terrible…”

Harwin approached you again as he noticed your despair - your voice breaking in the middle of your words and your eyes glistening once again by a layer of new tears. He cupped your face, brushing his thumbs against your cheeks.

“It's okay, my sweet angel,” he murmured, pressing his forehead against yours - you closed your eyes. His closeness made your heart beat faster, and the syrupy way the name that came out of his plump lips almost caused you to sigh. “Come here, let's sit down for a second, alright?” Harwin motioned.

Obediently, you grabbed his hand as he guided you through your room, finding a comfortable spot in the large settee right in the middle of your chambers. Once Harwin turned around, he finally noticed what you were wearing; a thin see through nightgown. His eyebrows twitched and mouth went dry. He knew that the right thing was to look away, give the privacy you needed - yet he couldn't manage to take his eyes off of you, his lovely princess. He followed a path from your face, going downwards towards your neck and collarbones - he even imagined how they would look with small marks from his lips printed on them. He continued shamelessly eyeing you, finding your breasts; he felt his throat getting dry once he noticed your pebbled nipples peeking through the white fabric of your nightgown. His mouth watered, resisting the urge to think how they would feel against his tongue. Unexpectedly, he felt his pants getting tighter.

That's when he knew that enough was enough. You were a princess; his princess. You deserve the utmost respect. He couldn't allow himself to think of you in that way, especially on a night like this one.

Harwin cleared his throat, sitting down on the couch and tapping the empty spot by his side - once again, you obeyed. Your body curled by his side, clinging into his armor, laying your head on his chest as his arm went around your shoulder to keep you close. You squirmed a bit, trying to make sense of the feeling between your legs - the one that grew more intense once you noticed the desire on his eyes.

“Close your eyes, try to rest. I'll be here when you wake up,” he promised.

You nodded, making yourself comfortable and doing what he told you to do - and you really tried, yet it seemed impossible for you to take that horrid image off your mind. Your whole body would tremble with the thought of being murdered in the same way. Each time you would close your eyes, that was all you could see. It was torturous, a bone chilling fear that didn't let you rest.

That scarlet blood seeping down white cloth played over and over again in your racing mind.

Before you noticed, you were sobbing again. Harwin, chivalrous as always, grabbed your quivering body and placed you on his lap, rocking your body from side to side as a desperate attempt to try and calm you down. It wounded him to see you like this, so scared and defenseless - he even wondered what he could do to make your anguish go away.

“He saw me… he'll come and try to- to kill me!” you whined - your lower lip shaking uncontrollably. “I cannot- I cannot stop thinking about it all.”

Growing up as a princess left you inside a bubble. Behind the thick walls of the castle you never had to watch or see something as such - the evilness of people. Harwin has always told you that you had a pure heart and soul, always oblivious to the wrongdoings of the people. You never knew how cruel people truly were, and now that you saw it you couldn't stop thinking about it.

“Nothing will happen to you, not if I'm here,” Harwin softly whispered. “I will always protect you, my precious angel.”

But then he thought of his words again; he might protect you from the enemies, from the dangers of the world, but how was he supposed to protect you from the torment that was caused by your own mind? How could he possibly make you forget about it?

He knew the answer, but he knew it was wrong. Terribly wrong.

“Come here.” Harwin invited you to sit on his lap. In any other occasion you would doubt a bit before assenting to do it, but in that moment all you wanted was to feel safe, to feel him against you as he got rid of all your fears with his mere presence - you couldn't resist.

His hands grabbed your hips as he lifted you up and motioned you until you were sitting on top of him - your arms around his broad body as you laid on his shoulder. His hands went to your head, his fingertips softly caressing your scalp while he soothed you again.

For him, it was quite hard to ignore the fact that the only thing in the middle of your nudity was a thin piece of fabric that did nothing to hide your body. He could see it, but you could feel it. At first you just sighed - the coldness of the metal covering his thigh would touch the heat between your legs, which was growing more intense with every passing second. You shivered, holding back a gasp when you accidentally moved your hips.

Out of the sudden, a thunderous sound similar to the one that woke you up was heard again. Your body jumped due to the shock, and your eyes widened with terror.

“Harwin…” you mumbled his name, almost as if you were begging him to make it stop, even when you knew he couldn't do anything more than stay by your side.

“Look at me, Princess,” he replied, his voice becoming slightly raspy as his big hands went to your hips. You felt how he started to pull your nightgown upwards - he had given up his hesitation to do this, defiling the pure little angel. How your doe-eyes and small body contrasted against his large frame, Strong was ensnared. The knight no longer fought against the carnal urges. He needed to take your mind elsewhere, and this was the only way he could think of. You tried to look down as he kept pulling the only layer of clothes that would cover your body - the only thing that separated your warmth from the coldness of the metal on his thigh, and he grabbed your chin, forcing you to keep your eyes on him. “Don't look away from me, angel…”

You obeyed, slightly parting your lips as the fabric brushed against your flesh, and once your cunt was laying naked on top of his leg, you felt a shiver running down your spine. Harwin’s honeyed gaze did not tear from your face at any moment, reluctant to see your most vulnerable places. He felt unworthy of it. He wasn't going to see you, he wasn't going to touch your vulnerable petals - he was just going to let you use him as you please.

“Ser Harwin…” you repeated his name in a gasp as his hands moved your hips on top of him. Gentle movements at first, just to see how you would react; that's when you moaned, feeling metal rubbing directly against your clit. It felt odd, but extremely good.

“Don't stress your mind any further,” he whispered, almost feeling breathless. “Forget about everything, just focus on what you feel…”

With your eyes closed, you placed your hands on his shoulder in order to find some stability when he slightly quickened the pace. The whimper that left your lips would be carved in Harwin’s mind forever, haunting his nights and increasing his need for you. You were there, in front of him looking so angelic, yet so sinful - he was tightening his grip on your hips, digging his fingertips on your flesh as a desperate attempt to hold back; the urge to rip that nightgown was almost unbearable. He needed to touch you, even when it was awfully wrong to do so.

One of his hands left your hip, moving upwards until it cupped your face. Your cheeks were burning beneath his touch, too flustered and shy to hold his haze for too long. You weren't stupid, you knew what was going on and you knew what it meant, yet it was hard for you to care when it felt this good.

Involuntarily, you started to move your hips on your own, growing needy and aching to feel more of him. You longed for his hands on your skin, touching every inch of you until his scent was spread all over your body - yet, he denied you of that, too scared of not being able to stop if he got to fondle your curves.

“Does it feel good?” he asked, his voice so deep and husky, almost making you purr like a kitten between his arms.

“S’good…” you whined in response, mouth agape and letting gasps fall from your lips.

Harwin shifted his position, trying to find some comfortable posture that would make him forget about the ache inside his breeches. He laid back on the settee, spreading his legs and letting you place your hands on his chest. You soon started to move your hips again, moaning his name.

“Fucking hell…” he groaned, now getting a full view of your body. “Go on, ride my thigh…” Those words slipped his lips before he was able to stop them. He felt ashamed, but you loved to hear them, driving your pace harder in reaction.

Your eyes opened and you found Harwin looking up at you as you used him for your own pleasure. He sat there, your weeping cunt coating his armor with your slick as you rubbed yourself on him; you quickly noticed how hard it was for him not to look down - not to look at the sinful view of your swollen bud brushing against him. Instead, his eyes remained on your face, lost in your glossy eyes and swollen lips. He was bewitched with the way your face would express the pleasure you were feeling; Blessed may be the gods for giving him the opportunity to see you like that.

His thumb moved closer to your lips, and you were quick to trap it inside your mouth, sucking and nibbling at it while your movements became more intense. Harwin couldn't resist, and he moaned once he felt your tongue swirling around his digit, imagining how that very same tongue would feel on his cock.

“This feels better than your pillow, doesn't it?” He suddenly groaned. On any other occasion, he would be too ashamed to mention that - the fact that he has heard you pleasuring yourself, yet he couldn't help it… the words slipped out of his mouth before he was able to hold them back. “Do you think of me when you do it?” He asked, almost begging to admit it, longing to hear you say it.

Though you were in no position to speak - too overwhelmed already, you manage to mumble a positive answer, humming as you nodded. A little smirk appeared on the knight's face, making him look even more charming than he already was. You felt your body melt in his arms.

With the motion of your body becoming more intense - faster, your nightgown slowly started to fall down your body, exposing your pebbled nipples to the hungry haze of the man beneath you. The struggle inside his mind was killing him, he wasn't supposed to touch you yet his body craved for it. His mouth watered at the sight while you kept moaning around his finger.

“Touch yourself for me, my angel,” he murmured, as if that would cease his cravings.

He removed his hand from your face, grabbing your wrist and relocating it to your breasts. You moaned at your own touch as you pulled your nipples and played with your own flesh. You leaned forward then, pressing your forehead against his, open-mouthed as you gasped when he grabbed your hips to control your movements once again. Harwin closed his eyes, groaning when you whined and mewled.

You sounded so beautiful.

“Come on, my princess,” he breathlessly said. His lips were merely a few inches away from yours. He fought the urge to devour your swollen lips. “Fucking hell… my angel, keep rubbing your sweet pussy against me. It feels so good, doesn't it? Bet you can’t think of anything else…”

“Harwin, I- I feel…”

“Sh… just let go. Fuck yourself on me, use me as you please. Let me help you empty that pretty head of yours.”

Harwin gave one last look at your trembling body before he started to bounce his leg, thick thigh adding more stimulation that almost made you scream. It was too much - the possessive grip around your hips was making it hard for you to think about anything else. You fantasized about him, about his hands, about his mouth… you longed for his touch, to feel huge calloused hands on your silken skin. You wondered how it would feel to have him inside of you, to let him defile your body. You wanted it so bad.

The thoughts soon started to push you over the edge. The metal covering Harwin’s thigh was soaked with your slick, it was slippery enough to fasten your movements until you couldn't hold it any longer. Your body weight fell forward, your hips twitching as your release oozed out of your weeping cunt, his name falling from your lips like a chant - as a way to thank him. Harwin felt his cock aching underneath his trousers, painfully hard, too damn close to coming undone.

“So good, my beautiful princess…” he whispered as he caressed your hair. His touch burning against now sensitive skin. “Bet you're not thinking about that bad man anymore, are you?”

You could only whine in response. Tired, overstimulated, and sleepy.

“Let's get you to bed now, shall we?”

Harwin grabbed your waist, lifting you up effortlessly as you leaned on his shoulders. Ever the gentleman, he fixed your gown and covered your nudity as he took you to the bed. He placed you delicately over the soft mattress and you hummed when he wrapped your trembling body on the silk sheets.

He leaned back then, but you grabbed his hand before he could go further away. “Please, don't,” you mumbled, looking up at him through your eyelashes. “Stay with me… Lay here.”

“My princess-”

“Please.”

And he couldn't say no.

You heard how he started to get rid of his armor, slowly detaching the pieces of metal from his body until there were just thin layers of clothes covering his body. He cautiously laid behind you - not wanting you to feel the hardness under his trousers, yet you grabbed his hand and forced him to wrap his limbs around your body, feeling the need to have him as close as possible.

Silence fell on the room, just hearing his calm breathing as he closed his eyes and smelled the sweet perfume lingering in your hair. But then, you spoke again.

“Ser Harwin?” you uttered his name so delicately it almost felt like a caress.

“Yes?”

There was a small pause, a moment of doubt. You continued regardless.

“I… I think I might be in love with you.”

Harwin's heart skipped a beat on his chest, and a smile appeared on his face. He felt a joy that he had never felt before.

“Princess?” Now it was him calling your name.

“Yes, sir?”

“I am in love with you.”

TAGS — @islandfantasydream

follow @by-fairysluna for updates!

#harwin strong #harwin strong imagine #harwin strong smut #harwin strong x reader #ser harwin #harwin strong x you #harwin strong x y/n #harwin strong x targ!reader #hotd #house of the dragon #hotd x y/n #hotd x reader #hotd x you

[essenteez]

𝐇𝐎𝐖𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐎 𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐑 𝐌𝐎𝐎𝐍 choi san 18+

"if i'm the bad wolf, you have to the moon. cause no one makes me howl the way your body does."

"The release came too fast, too powerful. The pleasure seemed to be ruining. It made you subconsciously try to push him away, to slow his actions down but no use. He was unmoved. And at that moment, you realized the meaning behind his name “mountain”. It wasn't just a name. It was a warning."

☾ synopsis : ever since your boyfriend has gotten his new tattoo - beautiful moon phases climbing up his spine - you always fail to keep your composure when looking at it. it draws you to touch it, drag your fingers, nails, tongue... however, the worst mistake you made was letting san see your poor self-control. now, he makes sure to always use his new card in this game of "who gives up first."

☾ pairing : san x f!reader

☾ genre : smut, one-shot

☾ warnings : explicit language, teasing, ass slapping, unprotected sex, thigh riding, fingering, commands, dick riding, big size, f! struggles to take it, mirror sex, back scratches, missionary, rough sex, penetration, breeding.

☾ words : 4k

NOTE : When I saw his back and the tattoo during mama performance, trust me, the sounds I made were inhuman. I will never recover from this. The power he bias wrecked me that moment should be studied :,) this piece is my ode to this tattoo

You failed yet again.

The temptation painted your sight in red while your willpower was at its lowest. In crushing defeat; saying goodnight to your dignity, you reached out your hand and dragged your finger down your boyfriend's naked spine.

You gulped quietly at San’s defined back muscles, now tensing under the touch of your sharp acrylic nail.

You began tracking the lines of his new tattoo. The moon cycle. Nine separate arts spread from his neck down to his slim waist. The work was beautifully done, impressive, and constantly begging you to touch it.

“You're really a fan of my latest whim.” He purred leisurely, stretching like a cat on the bed.

“Whim?” You chuckled. “You planned this tattoo for months.”

San looked so relaxed, laying on his belly as if he was waiting for a massage service. But you had a better idea.

The book you initially wanted to read was finally tossed aside. Positive reviews really made you curious. The plan for this evening was to indulge in the literature and find out if the recommendations were not bullshit.

But then your boyfriend decided to visit you in the late hours just to take off his shirt and spread his whole body on your bed. Apparently, he was tired after dance practice, so he quickly took a shower and went straight to your apartment.

Yeah, right. You had known him for years, and you knew how tired San looked like. The San that was now laying beside you had a lot of energy to spend. And there was no dance practice on Fridays.

“Not true! At first, it was supposed to be drawn only for the awards, you know, part of the lore? But I really liked how it looked. And the decision to make it real was sudden!"

“Fine.” You smiled at his cute indignation. “I'm happy that it's real, actually.”

“Why is that?”

His head rested on his hands, facing away from the spot where you sat. You used that opportunity of being out of his sight and of his guard being down.

The wickest giggle escaped your chords, “Cause now I can do this.”

You leaned over his lower back, right beyond the first tattoo of waning crescent moon. He twitched at the touch of your tongue, shamelessly climbing up his bare spine.

“Fuuuck, baby.” He whined somewhat relieved, as if he waited for that exact move of yours.

Not caring that you probably danced to his tune, you were now making your way back down with slow and juicy kisses. San’s whole body began waving at the tingling sensation. His body temperature rose rapidly. You could feel it through the thin skin of your lips.

Every single tattoo had its lines carefully traced with your tongue and then adorned with an invisible mark of your mouth. San was yours, all yours to enjoy.

Your boyfriend loved it with every fiber of his body. You could tell by the way he subconsciously hummed the melody of pure bliss. You could see it by how his sun kissed skin covered with goosebumps and how his body rose and fell from deeper and faster breathing.

You repeated the route a few times before reaching for his neck to bury your face in it. Inhaling his intoxicating smell; a mixture of soap, shampoo, and pheromones, you caused your own mind to spin.

Touching, kissing, and smelling that man was enough to make the muscles around your entrance grow tighter. You felt yourself getting incredibly wet.

“Baby…” He gasped when your teeth softly grabbed his earlobe.

His desperate pleas made you inhale sharply. You would have given him the heads of his enemies just to hear him whimper like that again.

“Hmm?”

“Promise you won't leave me grinding my dick onto your sheets like that.” Oh, his needy whines were truly to die for.

Your eyes wandered down his glistening spine right onto his shaply bottom. Slight circling movements of his hips made the cockiest smile crawl onto your mouth.

“So impatient.” You hummed.

His plump asscheeks had your head in the whirl. You needed that ass moving like that between your legs. Your cunt cried sweet tears when your head filled with the vision of San using his trained pelvis to thrust his way inside you.

You groaned in his ear, pleased at the sound that his sin worthy cheek made at the abrupt contact with your hand.

“You little shhhhit.” He hissed in full arousal at the sudden surprise and now the prickling skin.

“Oh apologies, my moon prince.” You pouted with fake guilt. To ease his abused ass, you grabbed a handful of his flesh and gave it a proper massage.

Using this opportunity, you pushed him more and more against the mattress, and you went back to teasing his neck, ear, and temple.

“Moon prin…ah fuuck.” He had no chance to ask you to elaborate on his new nickname. The new, deepened friction between his hardening cock and your satin sheets sent electric waves up his body. It reached all his nerves, which woke up just to act stupid from all the delightful stimulations.

San shifted his head to your side. The pillow traces on his cheek made you want to kiss it. But you focused on his hazy eyes and parted lips, drying up from needness.

“You're cruel, you know?” He whispered.

You laid down next to him, face to face. Obsessed, your hand never let go of his ass, groping and squeezing the plum. You stopped pushing his pelvis down. However, San kept grinding, now deeper and more aggressive.

“Look who's talking.” You teasingly licked his lips. “I had plans for this evening but you stormed into my room, exposing your beautiful chest, broad shoulders and slutty waist while wearing these black thin shorts.”

His smirk said it all.

“You're well aware that the outlines of your thighs are enough to make me drip, yet here you are.” You scoffed in frustration. ”And now that damn tattoo…”

San shifted to lay on the side, chest against chest with you. You were pulled closer to him by having your waist embraced by his strong arm, the other slid under your head to stop you from leaving.

You had no chance to react when your night dress got pulled up your hips. In a brutal way, your thong got ripped off you. There was not a chance to say anything since he immediately pushed his knee between your rubbing thighs.

“You're right.” He chuckled, feeding on your loud gasps. “I just love to see you struggle to contain yourself around me.”

San didn't have to do anything to have you grind on his thigh. You craved his touch, from the softest to cruelest, all over and inside your body

“San, ah.” You whimpered into his lips as you felt him purposely tensing up his muscles underneath you. The enhanced lines rubbed against you, making every cell in your body vibrate.

You put your hands flat on his chest. His heart beat so fast, chasing the pace of your pulse resonating in your head. No language could ever explain how much you needed him. Only your eyes could show him. Only your heat, wetness could make him feel it, and you were absolutely soaked, so much you heard squelched noises getting louder with every grind. Your shame was gone. All that mattered was a release granted to you by this beautiful man.

Your lips were brushing, noses rubbing, you breathed each other's air. The teasing, who gives up first and kisses the other, built up the tension to the point it was palpable. But the need to indulge in your taste made San lose the duel.

At first, he gently bit on your lower lip as if it was a fruit, and he wanted to see if it was ripe enough to be fully devoured.

“Pure sweetness.” He murmured with a low tone.

The moment your lips interlocked, San became braver with his actions. He stroked his hardness against your soft womb but it was your taste, scent, your closeness, the way your eyes shone and your pussy called for him that brought him to the edge of losing control. He swallowed your moans and let go only when you couldn't catch a breath from the crushing bliss.

“You're so loveable, (y/n).” He spoke as much as his own problems with breathing allowed him to. He was so hard it almost hurt, and you were so… “So touchable, irresistible. And so damn fuckable.”

“San-” You were close. His arm around your waist tightened, resulting in him fully controlling the speed of your movements.

“You'll be a good girl for me, won't you?” He growled into your lips. “I also planned this evening, you know. To pump you full, to the brim. To sit you down on my cock and watch you struggle to take it. I need that tattoo scratched with your nails. You hear me?”

The ecstasy chased you, but it was his words that tipped the scale. The fog covered your sight, and the sensation made your head fall back.

“Let's prepare you for the ride, shall we?”

San made a space between your drained folds and his wet, sticky thigh, and he slid his hand. His two digits found your entrance without a problem. Feeling them entering you, switching from stimulating your clit to pushing your sweet spot, you were done.

“Oh fuck, fuck yes.” You cried, banging at his broad chest.

San lips attached to your exposed neck, sucking, nibbling on the sensitive skin. That did not disturb him to finger you as his life depended on it.

The release came too fast, too powerful. The pleasure seemed to be ruining. It made you subconsciously try to push him away, to slow his actions down but no use. He was unmoved. And at that moment, you realized the meaning behind his name “mountain”. It wasn't just a name. It was a warning.

And you moaned that name, whined it while tossing and turning in the arms of its owner.

“Hmmm yeeees. Cum for me… cum cum cum cum.” He led you right into the void of madness.

Waves of pure bliss hit you one after another. He pushed you slightly onto your back and hovered above you. His fingers kept reentering your walls ruthlessly. The pace fastened. San needed to fuck the last ounce of orgasm out of you. He had to see you desperate for more. And you gave that to him, you gave it all.

When your trembling began to fade, he finally withdrew his long fingers. They left your slit with a pop sound as your walls did not want to let them go.

“Mmmm, so satisfying.” He cooed with a smug look on his face.

You were soaked, dripping down on your freshly changed sheets. Only San could bring you to the state like that. Only he was able to work you out.

And he knew it too well. That was why he savored your taste on his tongue each time, collecting your essence from his digits as a reward. This was his ritual with you, and he felt like pulling the knife at any man who would try to take his place.

It was a little embarrassing to cum this hard from a foreplay. He could see it in your face. Oh, he would enjoy holding it against you later, then having you challenge him just so he could prove you the point yet again. Perhaps you wouldn't be this defeated with another man. And that thought alone stroked his ego in all the right directions. The cruel prince had awakened.

While he let you catch a breath, he sat down and took care of his shorts all wet from you and his own precum. They landed next to the shreds that once was a thong.

Nonchalantly, San went back to tower over your recovering body.

“Such a good, good girl you are, (y/n). You make me want to brag about you everywhere I go.” He focused on your lips. “And I think I will. You deserve a big kiss, baby.”

You quietly sobbed at another touch of his lips on yours. San grabbed your jaw to keep you in place so he can fully immerse in you. You grabbed onto him. Arms around his shoulders, legs embracing his waist.

“More.” You whispered weakly, breaking the kiss. “Please.”

With a merciful smirk, San embraced and secured your back. He had no trouble picking you up and sitting down with you in his arms.

“It's your call, baby.” He gently kissed your neck. “I'm all yours.”

It was your turn to move.

His cock deliciously throbbed between your legs, hard and swollen, tip tinted purple. San was more than ready. His eyes demanded you ride him until you were both sweaty messes. He clearly told you what he planned for tonight.

You gave him a few slow strokes and massaged his peak, which he awarded you for with impatient curses. Depending on the position, his length as well as width could be too much for you sometimes.

But you, adjusting to his size, was what he lived for. The tight embrace of your wall required a lot of self-control to not combust immediately. You were a challenge he would never fail to accept.

You raised your hips, teasingly sliding his tip up and down your slit. You trembled anytime it brushed your entrance.

“I know you can take it.” He encouraged you with this annoying amusement in his voice. Oh, how weak you were for this arrogant man.

Placing his hands on your thighs, he gently caressed them, drawing soothing circles with his thumbs. San began to watch the show as you welcomed him inside.

“Of fuck.” You hissed at the stretch. Supporting yourself on his shoulders didn't help. You sucked him in on your own.

The air abruptly left his lungs as your pussy graced his manhood with the first silkiest hug tonight. He wanted to act tough, intimidating with his cocky smile, but you felt like heaven.

San fought hard. You whetted his big appetite. He wished he had taken the matters in his hands, but he couldn't just pin it to you. Also, where was the fun in that? He preferred to watch you cry and struggle as he sunk deeper inside your warmth, inch by inch, without mercy.

“Shit, you're sooo tight.” He gasped out at how you began working on suck him dry.

Possessed with pleasure, San waited until you got more comfortable with his size. And the moment he felt you loosened and the relief ghosted your face, he knew he could push into you fully.

You shook on your whole body when he moved his hips up and finally reached his goal.

“Ruude.” You whimpered, feeling absolutely intoxicated all stuffed like that.

While you tried to gather your thoughts, San released your breasts from the night dress and buried his face in their plush. He inhaled the pure scent of your bare skin. You smelled sweet and spicy, exactly like your personality.

“You know me. I like being rude.” He smirked. “And I know you. You like it too.”

He was right. The struggle was real, but even that provided you with indescribable bliss. And now, when you engulfed him fully, the satisfaction was out the roof.

San firmly put his hands on your hips and moved them without a word of warning.

Waves of delight washed upon you when his tip swept over your sweet spot, “Waaait, I- ne-ed to aah!”

But he didn't listen. He couldn't stop, not with you taking him so well, not when you were dripping all over his thighs.

Under his control, you felt him reach new depths with every grind. Setting the pace, he didn't need to lead you anymore. The fullness you felt was driving you crazy. You put your head on his shoulder, hands on his back, and you rode him, deep and starving.

“If I'm your moon prince. Then what does that make you? My moon?” He asked out of nowhere as if he wasn’t just penetrating the deepest corners of your womanhood and making you lose your senses.

You couldn't answer. You could not form a single word.

“Hmm?” He was stubborn, despite swallowing his own moans. “Are you my moon?”

You mumbled something. The force his dick rubbed on your sweet spot took away your ability to think, let alone speak. You felt every beat in his veins. But San needed you to play along.

A juicy smack landed on your ass, “Are you?”

You mustered a little will to answer his demands, “Ye-es.”

He kissed your collar bone gently, which clashed with the treatment you received somewhere else.

“Then let me howl at you the whole night.”

With these words, his arms embraced your waist and shifted your whole weight onto himself. You were lifted up a little bit, enough so he had space to pound on you as freely as he could.

San began claiming you, rough and madly. His hips moved underneath you while his eyes studied every emotion on your face.

“Look at yourself.” He breathed out. “Look how cute you are, melting around my dick like that.”

Ah, yes. The mirror in front of your bed.

San never failed to remind you about it when you were getting intimate. He never failed to use it as a tool.

You didn't hang it there to watch yourself getting demolished. There was really no other place in your room to put this big mirror you bought on a very beneficial sale. But ever since you brought San in your apartment, the reflection stopped being associated with only checking your appearance.

You raised your half shut eyes at your face. You stared at how pathetic you were and how much you didn't care about it. You watched your features contorted in delight when San reached deeper and now was hitting your cervix unforgivably. You heard your own cries from the power, tears rolling down your cheeks. It felt so good, unearthly good.

The moment the frequency of your walls’ spasm grew, he sat you down on his cock again, burying his whole face in your neck. Now both your bodies rocked back and forth.

“It's too much.” You pinned your nails into his back and dragged them against his skin.

San cursed between hisses, making you look at the marks you just made. There was no blood, but the lines were getting bright red.

The was something about the way his wide back muscles moved while holding you tight, fucking you mindlessly. You focused on the tattoo that started it all. It worked on you like a flame on a moth. Every little thing pushed you closer and closer to the point of breaking. The way his body felt under your touch, how it moved with one goal - to have you scream.

He smelled like a late summer day, despite the outside weather being cold. The sweet sound he moaned into your ear made your whole existence buzz.

“I can't hold it anymore.” You informed him breathlessly. “I'm about to cum. But I can't…I can't…”

That position, despite allowing him to penetrate you the deepest, tended to exhaust you. San could tell it, by the way your movements slowed down compared to your need for release. Gladly, he had more strength than enough to take care of you.

He, himself, needed you to sob his name as he took you like an animal. San had nothing against slow, passionate sex but with you, it was simply impossible. You occupied his mind every second of the day. There were many nights he spent alone due to tours and busy schedules, sleepless nights, spent on quietly moaning out your name as his drenched cock throbbed in his hand. So when he finally had you in his arms, he let all the hunger out. San couldn't get enough of you. Calling it addiction would've been an understatement. You were his object of worship.

With the sudden overflow of motivation, he effortlessly changed your position that would allow him to give his goddess the finish she deserved. Your weakening body was laid down on its back. His pride did not slide out of you, even for a moment.

“Baby...” You called for him, but all you received was a glance, a momentary view of his eyes that were like the ones of a wild wolf.

San pulled your hips up to fuck you in the most suitable angle. His firm grasp kept you in place. The next goal was to set the pace that was going to have you cumming in seconds.

His elastic pelvis graced you with powerful yet skillful thrusts. His tip attacked your sensitive center, not letting it rest. You got even wetter, slicker to the point he didn't feel when he was going in and out of you.

“San, I'm…” You gasped, not able to make a sound. The control over your body belonged to San.

You broke beneath him.

The extreme heat accumulated in your abdomen exploded, flooding you from head to toes. Your sight blurred, heart pounded in your chest. The loud cries from the indescribable pleasure overcame any other sound in the room. There was no way to stop the severe trembling. It was too much. He was too much for your fragile, sensitive body to handle all this differently. You shattered into small pieces around him. And you would do it again and again.

San leaned above you with his hands on both sides of your head. You saw the sweat dripping down his neck and chest, and it drove you insane.

“My balls prepared a nice load for my moon.” He grunted with trouble. “And you will take it all. Every drop.”

His command, like a charm, had your cramping walls grab onto the base of his cock, their fast pulse forcely ripped the orgasm out of him.

“Ah fuck, fuck, fuck fuck!” He whined, shooting his rich load inside you. You accepted his throbs and spasms like a reward, with pure bliss.

San took his time, sliding in and out, painting your walls in white with his essence. Loud curses and moans leaving his throat were a reminder that you absolutely belonged to him.

“Fuck baby, the way you tighten around me when you cum...” He groaned, melting over the satisfying sensation. “Paradise.”

You embraced him with so much appreciation and love when he laid on you, forbidding him from exiting you.

He looked at your closed eyes and their teary corners. He studied your parted lips that he wanted to kiss constantly. You were so perfect, all wasted like that.

To calm you both down, he leaned to the side and began caressing your neck with lazy smooches. Your quiet, adorable little moans in response to his affection made the blood rush in his veins again.

“More.” He whispered desperately in your ear. “I need…more.”

He paid closer attention to your bare breasts. They called for him, bouncing slightly as he began to move his hips in circles. Your erected buds hardened, caught in his skillful lips. Body decided for you. It yearned for him once more.

“Baby…” You entangled your fingers in his black hair, feeling him slowly thickening inside you.

“There is still so much I wanna do to you. I'm so horny for you, baby.” His raspy, sultry tone was enough to make your pussy flutter. And he felt that with every ounce of his being. There was no better feeling than your desire for him.

The art on his back crossed your spinning mind. You found the culprit of this insatiability.

“Damn you, tattoo.” You giggled. “I really wanted to read that book tonight.”

He lined up his face with yours and gave you that well-known, disarming smile with dimples that had you and all his fans go weak in the knees.

Little did you know, the tattoo you were now cursing wasn't his "latest whim". The moment he saw your eyes shine at the drawn one, he immediately decided to have it forever engraved on his skin. Now San had his own little trick to keep your full attention on no one else but him.

@nateezfics @hazysan 💋

#ateez #ateez smut #ateez imagines #ateez hard hours #atiny #ateez choi san #choi san #ateez san #san oneshot #san ff #san smut #ateez ff #ateez oneshot #san moon tattoo #ateez mama 2023 #san × reader #san x y/n #hongjoong #seonghwa #yunho #yeosang #mingi #wooyoung #jongho #choi san smut

[bangaveragewhitewine]

baby, do you want to come home with me?

Eddie Munson x Reader

Giving in to the tension feels good

Word count: 702

Contents: Making out. Pre-smut and getting handsy in a bathroom. Female reader (one use of 'her'). Title from Wet Dream, by Wet Leg.

Author’s note: This has been sitting half-finished in my docs named 'untilted eddie make out' for well over a month. It's barely read-over or edited, but here you go, Eddie girls. Come get your man!

His breath is hot against your lips, tinged with smoke and hops. That smokey scent blends with spicy aftershave and the earthy fug of green. Every molecule of you feels aflame, sparked by the slide of his tongue against yours and the gentle command he leads with. He is addictive and you need another taste. 

After weeks of tension building, attraction growing stronger each time you saw each other instead of waning, you both gave in tonight. And oh are you glad you did. 

Eddie smiles when your mouths meet again; another deep kiss to make you melt between him and the scuffed brick wall at your back. He holds you tighter, closer, and presses up against you to make sure you don’t trickle away into a puddle or twirl off back to the dance floor with your ‘come get me’ eyes. He wants you a little longer and fancies his chances of getting to take you home tonight. 

He need not worry; the only place you're going is to find a cab, then home to your place or to his. The music is less loud here, but the base rumbles between your twisted-together bodies.

You can feel him, thick and hard and warm against you through double layers of denim - his and hers. There is buttery leather and surprisingly soft curls beneath your fingers, the sharp line of his flexed jaw and the cool hardware on his jacket. He makes you feel greedy for wanting all of it, all of him, the soft and the hard parts (but especially the hard part tonight). 

He makes this little noise when you tug his hair and his jaw falls slack when your nails catch on his scalp just right. You make a note of that for later as he licks into your mouth again, making you keen for him as he pairs that slow deep slide with the firm press of his thigh between your legs that feels so good. Your hips take up a slow roll, encouraged and steadied by his hand at the top of your ass and the perfect press of your jeans right there.

You’re not sure where he begins or where you end anymore, with blurred edges and winding limbs even when you break for breath briefly. A hammering fist on the door is just about enough to halt your kisses - but only after a couple of tries on the handle and an unsuccessful first knock. 

“Hello?!! Come on, man, I need to piss!” 

“Hold the fuck on.” 

Eddie’s voice is rough, a sharp pissed-off bark that echoes around the bar bathroom as you hide your warm face against his chest and give in to a dose of the giggles.

“Somethin’ funny?” he asks, soft just for you. 

His smile is stained with your lipstick, and you do your best to swipe the worst of it away with your thumb as you float back down to earth. He does a little to fix the smear below your lip, tender from kissing and the nip of Eddie’s sharp teeth. 

“I think they’re going to know…” you murmur, resisting the urge to take one more taste for yourself.

There will be no hiding it from whoever is banging on the door, whoever is queued up behind them with their full bladders and baggies of coke. It was not like either of you were subtle enough to fool your friends, even before you both disappeared together tonight. Not with your matching stained mouths, or Eddie’s tighter-now jeans. Not when you leave together tonight and arrive for breakfast together in the morning.

“Is that so bad?” 

You give in to that need for one more kiss, slow and sweet unlike the last one. It says enough to answer his question. 

Loud music and the sound of your own heart beating hard are not quite enough to drown out the complaints and wolf-whistles as you leave the locked bathroom together. Eddie leads again with confidence, bolstered by your lipstick on his face and your hand in his back pocket. Neither of you miss how the table of your friends raise their bottles and glasses as you pass them, a few bills exchanged for bets placed as you go find that cab and decide ‘your place or mine?’ 

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