Wolffe X Reader - Tumblr Posts

i literally loved every second of this kira! the banter was muah *chefs kiss*

say it first

Pairing: Wolffe x f!reader, reader insert

Rating: Explicit (this is smut that i added feelings to. minors, dni!)

Word Count: 2.4K

Content Warnings: choking, unprotected PiV sex, fingering, creampie, jealousy, drinking/alcohol consumption

AN: i was inspired by the idea of begrudgingly admitting feelings, and decided to write the porn first, and get to the feelings later.

also! @metalatl graciously allowed me to use her OC 308th Battalion and Sergeant Runaway in this fic! thank you! <3

Read on AO3: here

Summary: you and Wolffe are FWB. maybe just the B. but you both want more.

---

“I didn’t want to say it first.” // “Neither did I.”

“You look so fucking good like this, baby. Taking all of me so well.” His eyes – white and gold – blazed back at yours through the reflection of the mirror. Surrounded in darkness, your brain also fuzzy with pleasure and drunk on desire, his eyes practically glowed at you. The domineering look sent sparks down your spine. One of his impossibly large hands was clasped around your throat and the other was down at your breast, fingers working your tortured nipple. Numbed by the sheer stimulation, you tried your best to form a coherent response.

“J-just shut up and fuck me, Wolffe.” Panting, you adjusted your grip on the ’fresher counter.

Wolffe brought his head up to where his nose caressed the shell of your ear, lips ghosting against your neck, “’S true though. Drives me crazy.”

“Hm, I know.” You shut your eyes, biting your lip. Knowing he could feel the way his words and his hands and his breath were all pulling pleasure from your core, you attempted to keep yourself from falling back down from the edge. The game of it was the most fun for Wolffe; knowing he could unravel you so simply. You refused to let him win though. You insisted on some semblance of dignity even as you both stood naked, pants around ankles, in this hot, airless room.

Focusing on his thickness, the unbelievable ecstasy at the way he was filling you, you felt your crest approaching again. You tightened around him, leveraging your hips back against his, fucking yourself on his slick cock. Wolffe’s breath hitched at the change in position as he tightened his grip around your neck. He moved his other hand from your breast down to your exposed clit, the pads of his fingers beginning cruel and precise circles.

“If you can talk back, I’m not doing my job.” He chuckled, unyielding in his efforts.

“I told you to shut up.” You snapped. Opening your eyes, you shot him a glare in the reflection as you took one hand from its place supporting your body on the counter, snaking it down under you both.

Wolffe choked, movements stuttering, as your palm clutched around his balls, giving them a gentle roll. A smug sense of content puffed within your core, only egging on the pressure towards your release. His strokes slowed to a delicious rhythm, allowing you to enjoy the way each drag of his cock met the edges of your walls.

All the while, he kept attention on your clit, circling as exquisite tension furled within your depths. When you intensified the hold and motions of your palm clutching around his balls, Wolffe moaned loudly against your shoulder, “O-oh, fuck.”

His audible pleasure pushed you over the edge. You revelled in the way he felt inside you and his affirmation of the way you felt around him. “Shit. Oh my god. Shit!” you cried.

Wolffe was everywhere; around your neck, on your clit, inside of you. Gasping and writhing, you felt your body tense as your head pounded with the blissful exhilaration of your orgasm. It was a struggle to keep your mind tethered to your body as the waves swept through you.

Evidently, it was the same for Wolffe. You felt his breath shorten and his cock twitch as you rode out your high.

“Fuck,” Wolffe groaned, balls pulsing while still gripped in your palm. With breath hitching and then a sharp inhale, he emptied himself inside you. Delirious in your post-release, you could feel the hot wetness spilling from your cunt.

You stood there against the counter, both still connected, heaving.

A short while later, after mutual fumbling around in the dark for pieces of armour and clothes tossed aside in careless lust, tense silence bore into you. With the last piece of his chest armour clipped back in place, Wolffe grabbed his bucket from the counter.

“Until next time.” He nodded.

In a familiar way, you looked back at his face in the mirror as you smoothed out your tousled hair, “Bye, Wolffe.”

---

From where he sat at the pack’s usual booth, Wolffe could see your radiant smile from across the room. You were here with your friends, a different group than usual tonight. That fact didn’t matter much to him though, as he reminisced about how the two of you usually ended your nights at 79’s blissfully ignorant of anything and anyone else. Usually.

Another man, a brother in lilac-painted armour, approached where you sat at the bar. Wolffe recognized him as a sergeant from the 308th Battalion but wasn’t aware of his name. Watching the scene unfold from beyond his glass, Wolffe sipped his whiskey. He scoffed at the sight, readying himself to watch you to turn down the other clone’s advances. You had done as much countless times before.

When you welcomed the man with an even wider smile and a hug, he felt his jaw clench involuntarily; felt fire starting to lick at his chest. You were talking and laughing together. What the fuck?

Maybe you were just being friendly, Wolffe quickly rationalized. Didn’t want to embarrass this guy with a flat-out rejection in front of all the people around you.

To his chagrin, you placed both hands on the sides of the other man’s face, but Wolffe couldn’t make out what you were saying to him over the din of the crowd. It was a familiar touch; a beaming kind of warmth you had never shown him.

“Oi, Wolffe, you want in on the next round?” Boost’s voice drew him back in to the pack’s chatter as they started a new game of sabacc. Giving you one last glance, he answered Boost with a nod.

“Yeah. I’m all in.”

---

“That’s so not funny! One of these days you’re actually gonna hurt yourself. And then how would Sohla cope without you?!” You swatted Runaway’s purple-painted vambrace in jest.

“Ehh I’ll be careful. Promise! Would rather face the fury of a hundred clankers than your sister when she sees me injured,” he snickered. Runaway, like every other trooper, was hardwired for success on the battlefield. Although this was a fact that comforted the Republic, it brought much less serenity to a soldier’s personal relationships — something that was a sore and frequent contemplation for you too.

You met his mischievous eyes with a soft smile, “Good. Dinner with me and Sohla next time you’re back on leave, kay?”

“Deal. Have a good night! I’m headed back after this drink. Don’t get too crazy.” Runaway winked, as he turned to find his squad.

“Wouldn’t dream of it!” you shouted over the crowd.

Returning to your drink and your friends, you swivelled to face down the bar. Expecting to set eyes on him, your gaze wandered to the booth frequented by grey and white armoured men. When you peered through the haze and stray lights of the club, you finally settled on Wolffe’s usual spot. Instantly, your heart sank into your stomach.

Wolffe’s determined eyes never left yours as the Theelin on his lap worked her mouth, kissing down from his neck to his exposed chest. She had unbuttoned the collar of his uniform, but he was utterly disengaged as he drew a sip from his glass, glare holding steady at you.

You steeled your expression, refusing to let him see how you teetered on the edge of despair. Commanding your tears back, you broke from his stare and busied yourself at the bar.

As you attempted to distract yourself in meaningless conversation with the friend sat next to you, it seemed like time was losing its relativity around you. The image of Wolffe and the other woman was flashing uncontrollably through your brain.

When you saw the pink flash of her skin blur in your peripheral, you swallowed hard, as if to try and push down the emotion that wanted to burst from your chest. You snuck a glance to the side. She was heading towards the exit, Wolffe trailing with his hand in hers. Fuck.

---

It was another night of the same osik, Wolffe thought to himself, as he leaned over the balcony. 79’s was chock full of troopers and natborns alike, drunk and horny and loud. The atmosphere was much less compelling from his position removed from the crowd. He had retreated to the top floor of the bar for a better vantage point after spending what felt like hours scanning the dense crowd from his spot in the pack’s booth.

Even now, any time Wolffe caught a glance of a trooper and their companion, he angled to see if it was your face beside theirs. It had been a futile exercise the whole evening.

Wolffe pondered your last interaction as he stared through the bottom of his empty glass. Your face had been so indifferent as you saw him with the Theelin those few nights ago. Like you didn’t care enough to express whatever it had made you feel. Like you didn’t care enough about him. Like you didn’t feel, at least not like he did.

There was a bitterness rising in the back of his throat, unpleasant but not an unwelcome distraction, as Wolffe resigned from his watch over the crowd. He’d had enough tonight.

---

Downing the last of your fourth drink, you felt a bolstered sense of resolve.

“Why did you bring me out? Why are we out at all? You two already have partners!” you yelled, fighting a losing battle over the bump of the bass. Sohla and her friend Xyndi shared a mutual eye-roll at your displeasure.

Xyndi kept quiet, sipping her own cocktail, as Sohla argued back, “Girl, you could too, if you would stop terrorizing all the guys who came up to talk to you tonight!” She poked a manicured finger at your shoulder.

You chose to ignore her, flagging down the bartender for your fifth. It had been about a month since you’d been here last – when you last saw Wolffe. Unfortunately, you weren’t inebriated enough yet to forget that.

“Ooh, who’s that?” Xyndi giggled, as she craned her neck to view across the room.

“Oh, perfect.” Speak of the devil. It was Wolffe, strutting down the stairs, kama swinging at his hips. He was still in his armour tonight, a tougher choice for stripping down in public at least, you mused to yourself.

Sohla started, “Isn’t that…”

“Yeah. Tragically.” You finished.

“I knew tonight was gonna be fun.” Sohla smirked, taking a sip.

“Fuck you. Don’t. Leave me.” You gritted out, keenly aware of his trajectory towards your seats at the bar.

“No worries. Wouldn’t wanna miss the show!” she said with irritating glee. Xyndi was silent, still reserved, but her view fixated on Wolffe as he approached.

He reached the edge of this side of the bar, daringly close to where you sat, and stood patiently for the bartender. You focused on something in the opposite direction. Feeling a familiar stare linger at your back, your senses were confirmed as Xyndi’s eyes flicked between yours, and where Wolffe’s likely laid behind you.

He made a noise that was half-grunt, half-clearing of the throat. You stayed rooted in place, refusing to acknowledge his ambiguous greeting.

“Had your fill of clones tonight, then?” Wolffe sneered. Asshole.

“What, were you watching me?” you turned to face him.

“Maybe.” He looked shocked at his own honesty.

“What’s your fucking problem, Wolffe?”

“You, obviously.”

“Oh, I know. What, you’ve fucked everyone else on your roster, now you’re interested in me again? That it?” you spat at him.

“You have no idea what you’re talking about.” he grumbled.

You narrowed your eyes, confusion clouding the anger he had drawn out, “Then tell me what it’s about.” He worked his jaw, deliberating for a second. Flashing a side-eyed look over to Sohla and Xyndi, he left you with a glare as he stalked away.

“Hey, we’re not done,” you hopped off the bar stool, tailing him through the maze of bodies that was 79’s tonight.

You caught up to him as he turned into an empty back corridor. He faced away from you; fists clenched at his sides.

“There is no roster,” he spoke, his voice quiet, and the most unsteady you had ever heard.

“O-Okay…” you struggled to respond, unfamiliar with this dynamic between you. “Not enough hookups to fill a roster, just a list then,” you poked, hopeful your levity could break the discomfort.

“No. There isn’t any list. Anything. Anyone else.” His voice was genuine, and more secure now. You could feel heat creeping up your neck, threatening to spill into your whole chest and face.

“Last time, the Theelin.” You muttered. Wolffe turned now, his eyes captivating your attention.

“We didn’t. I went back to the barracks, alone.”

“So, why, what is this? What are you trying to say?”

“Fuck. I like you. Okay?” He sounded exasperated, “I-I’m not good at this. I just don’t want you to hate me. I’m sorry.”

You broke out into a nervous, incredulous laugh, “Oh. Why didn’t you just say that?” He looked wounded by your amusement, eyes widening slightly. Attempting to mend the perceived blow to his ego, you reached for one of his gloved hands, taking it in both of yours. “Sorry, it’s, I-I like you, too.” You affirmed with squeeze as you smiled up at his face.

Wolffe’s mouth hung open a little as he tried to process your identical confession. “Why didn’t you say that?”

“I didn’t want to say it first,” you shot him a joking frown.

He chuckled, “Neither did I.”

“You’re an idiot.” You scoffed.

“Yeah, well.” He pulled you in from where you held his hand. Your foreheads rested together, as he brought his down to meet yours. He freed his hand, moving to cradle your cheek and neck tenderly. Heartbeat thundering in your ears, and a giddy kind of thrill warming you now, you matched his smile. Your lips brushed with a gentleness unfelt before, as your hands reached around his armoured waist. Wolffe pulled back, smiling still, “Sorry.”

Laughing, you kissed him again, “I’ll get over it.”

- - -

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words in my mouth

Wolffe x F!Reader

word count: 3.7k

description: you never felt that your friendliness had made a positive impression on the ever elusive, always stern commander wolffe, but that all changes when he overhears a drunken game of truth or dare.

warnings: kinda grumpy/sunshine I suppose, a little fluff at the end, drinking, minor injury detail

a/n: was supposed to be working on my tech oneshot but... I got sidetracked. I also tried to make wolffe less toxic than how he's sometimes represented. grumpy king <3

“Hey Commander!” You chirp cheerily, passing the man in question in the hallway. You know you won’t receive any such a response from him, but you were nothing if not persistent. Sometimes, it was just fun to see his glare and the grinding of his jaw.

Truthfully, you didn’t do it to wind him up, you secretly hoped that one day he would relent and smile back at you. Though that was not in his nature, and perhaps you wouldn’t care to try if it was.

His eyes found yours at the mention of his title, and his teeth instantly ground together. You offered a sweet smile and a wave but his eyes held your gaze with a glare that was so equally lazy and irritated that you almost found it endearing. You were sure no one got under his skin like you did, and that's how you liked it.

“See you later!” You grinned as he walked past, clinging onto his glare so long that he was looking over his shoulder by the time you looked away.

You were stationed on Coruscant with the rest of the 104th for a few weeks at the moment. Usually, you worked aboard General Plo Koon's flagship as a strategist, which was how you got so many opportunities to irritate the broody Commander. You worked closely with him and the General before they were sent off on their missions.

The first time you had met Commander Wolffe, he was so taken aback by your friendliness and positive attitude that he had looked to his General, hoping for some kind of support. Seeing how confused it had made him, you just couldn't resist doing it every time you saw him outside of meetings.

Wolffe was thankful that you kept your overly-sweetened demeanour to outside of meetings, and it was when you became focused and as serious as he was during them, that he truly appreciated your role as a strategist. He wouldn't admit it to you, he hardly had to himself, but he secretly preferred your friendly off-duty persona.

He knew that you were friendly with everyone, but he got a certain thrill every time you went out of your way to say hi to him, to offer him that million-credit smile with the cutest spring in your step. He would be remiss to not realise how beautiful you were, everyone in his company had made at least one comment on it before, but again, he'd never let on.

Wolffe gave no indication of these thoughts and feelings that he kept close to his chest, in fact, he actively worked against them, glaring at you as he just had and not answering your questions that felt like they were meant to taunt him. You drove him up the wall, but in a way where he would lie awake at night and hope to run into you the next day.

Safe to say, you had no idea. No one did.

Though it wasn't long before your own affections came to light.

That night, you had been press-ganged into playing pazaak by Comet and Boost, both of them playing on the same side against you. You had groaned about how unfair it was, but by this point you were all drunk enough that it didn’t matter anymore. If anyone had walked in, they might not have even realised it was pazaak you were playing, you were all playing that poorly. Since you had lost all of your credits to the two clones - unfairly, as you kept reminding them - you were now playing for truth or dares. If they won, you picked truth or dare, and so on and so forth. Hilarity ensues, for them.

You lost another round, but you were past caring now.

“Alright. Truth this time” You sighed.

Comet grinned lazily, “I have a good one”

You rolled your eyes, “So, you mean, it’s actually bad”

“Shhhhh” Boost pressed a finger to your lips haphazardly, “Let the man speak”

You pushed him off, “Lay it on me”

“If you had to kiss one of us clones, who would it be?” Comet leaned forwards as he relayed the question.

“Ooh, that is a good one”

You laughed instinctively, “I’m not answering that”

“No. The rules dictate you must answer the question” Boost slurred.

“The rules?” You chuckled, “I think we lost our grip on rules a while ago”

“Cmon” Comet almost whined, pushing at your knee.

For a moment you placed a finger on your chin, pretending to think really hard, but then it was shortly over taken by a smirk as your brain brought forth exactly the clone to answer the question.

“So there is someone then!” Boost pointed at your borderline mischievous look.

“Keep your voice down!” You hissed at him, swatting his accusing finger away.

“You’ve got to tell us now” Comet insisted.

“No. I’m not saying”

“Okay well we’re just gonna start guessing and see how you react” Boost sat back in his chair, “Well there’s me, Comet…”

You rolled your eyes affectionately as they continued to list off people from their company. It was almost worth it to let them do it to see if they remembered everyone, but it was getting a little tiresome at the same time.

“Alright, alright. I'll kriffing tell you” You finally relented. Somehow they hadn’t guessed right yet.

The pair sat across from you leaned in with the biggest grins plastered across their faces, and you couldn’t help but roll your eyes again.

“I guess I don't hate the idea of making out with the Commander” You said coyly, as if you didn’t know how insane that was going to make them.

They both let out a borderline scream, Boost even jumped up from his chair for a minute. Your laughter forced its way out of you from their reaction.

“So what you really mean is, you’ve already thought about making out with the Commander” Comet asked with a knowingly raised eyebrow.

“Alright, that wasn’t part of the game” You shook your head, sitting back.

“Come on” Boost whined, and it cracked you easily in your drunken state.

“Fine. Maybe I have. So what?”

If either of the clones grinned any wider their faces would surely have split in half.

“So that's why you're so friendly with him, you have a crush on him” Boost laughed loudly, and you jumped to cover his mouth, but just a little too late.

“Will you please be quiet!” You hissed, and they erupted into even louder laughter at your reaction.

You grumbled under your breath and moved back, picking up the bottle of spotchka and pouring them both another cup.

“I’m making sure the both of you don’t remember this tomorrow” You mumbled.

Regrettably, both Comet and Boost were fully operational with no hangover and a complete memory the next morning, unlike yourself. You didn’t have a particularly low alcohol tolerance but the sheer amount of straight liquor that you drank last night was catching up with you. You had an agonizing headache and felt so foggy that you didn’t even know you were walking past the Commander. He called out to you, and you realised you had been walking down the corridor with your head in your hand as you looked to the floor.

“Are you… Alright?” He asked hesitantly, the words feeling unfamiliar coming from him.

You cleared your throat and smoothed down your hair slightly, hyper-aware of your less-than-alive looking appearance. You had really hoped not to see him today. Your eyes found his, his one natural eye holding a certain level of concern that turned your stomach.

“Yes sir, just… Drank a bit too much last night is all” You spoke, and your voice was more hoarse than you were hoping.

“What were you drinking? You look awful” He crossed his arms, looking down at you with his usual frown.

“How kind of you to point out” You chuckled, “It was spotchka, Boost and Comet convinced me to play pazaak against both of them”

“Well that was a mistake” He said flatly, his eyes moving to something behind you.

“Yeah, I can see that no-”

You were cut off as someone shoved your back harshly, sending you flying towards the Commander’s chest. Luckily, he saw the incoming attack and grabbed your shoulders before you could make impact. It was the first time he had ever touched you, and if you weren’t so angry your brain might have lingered on the warmth you could feel through his gloves.

You whirled around, looking for the culprit, and as expected, there stood Boost and Comet, snickering with each other.

“You’re going to regret that” You seethed, and their eyes widened, running away as you leapt at them.

Wolffe watched you sprint after his men, and failed to suppress the small smile quirking his lips. He had a little idea of what that might have been about.

Over the next couple of days, you had to keep your wits about you, particularly when you spotted Wolffe in the vicinity. You were constantly looking over your shoulder, as you had now been shoved number of times, being sent careening into the Commander. You apologised profusely each time, then turned around to whack whichever one of the two menace clones had done it this time. Wolffe couldn’t find it in himself to be annoyed by it, in fact, he almost looked forward to it.

He would grab your arms to steady you, and the wide-eyed look you gave him each time was enough to set his insides alive. One time, when you really hadn’t been expecting it, he had grabbed you by the waist, and somewhere in the altercation your hands ended up splayed against his chest plate. Your eyes went wide as always, and in addition, you cheeks flushed a deep red and your mouth hung agape. You couldn’t seem to move or say anything for a moment, only being snapped from your trance when Wolffe had raised an eyebrow at you. That interaction had only earned you an earful from Comet about how ‘down bad’ you were.

Even now as you walked into an important meeting, you couldn't get it out of your head, and the fact that Wolffe was stood waiting for you with the General was no help. The reality of your silly crush came crashing down on you. It wasn't just some fleeting fancy, this affection for Wolffe had been festering within you, and you had only been intensifying it each time you goaded him.

His eyes followed you as you walked inside, settling yourself at the central holotable and looking into it despondently. His eyebrows drew together in a frown as he walked towards you.

“Everything alright?” He asked as he rested on the holotable beside you. You jumped at the sound of his voice, looking up only briefly when realising who it was.

“Yeah, yeah” You replied non-commitally, causing Wolffe's frown to deepen.

“You sure?” He asked again, bringing his hand to your shoulder. You instinctively ducked away from it, stepping away from him, your body feeling like it had been struck by lightning.

“I'm fine” You managed to peep out.

Wolffe let his hand hang in the air for a moment, before he quickly brought it to his side again. What was he doing? He didn't touch people. He didn't double check if people were okay. But why had you moved away? Did he not overhear you right the other night? Was it someone else's name that you had said?

He could feel an embarrassed blush scorching his ears as General Plo Koon joined you both at the holotable, which he mostly did a good job of hiding. You, however, were doing a poor job of acting normal, and Plo Koon looked between the both of you suspiciously for a moment.

“Has something happened that I should be made aware of?” He spoke and you were pulled out of your mind that was purely filled by screaming thoughts.

“No sir” You shook your head, “Let's get to work”

Wolffe had always applauded your professionalism, and he was never more thankful for it than in that moment.

You had scampered from the command room as soon as the meeting was over. You didn't want to think for a while, so you had gone to your workstation in the hangar, hoping to rid the Commander from your mind.

Thus far, you had been unsuccessful.

You were trying to solder together two wires, but your hand kept slipping, your mind absolutely preoccupied by the few touches that Wolffe had allowed you in the past few days. Well, most of them had not been allowed, but the most recent one, the one you could still feel burning at your skin…

You grunted in frustration, just as Boost came strolling by with a wide grin.

“How’s it going?” He asked, spurred on by your glare.

“Not good. No thanks to you” You grumbled, looking back down to your work.

“Oh come on, it's just a bit of fun” He said, taking a seat on your workstation.

“For you. I can’t say I enjoy being pushed around all too much” You said pointedly, giving him a withering look.

He just shrugged with a grin, “I think you do really”

You huffed, continuing on with your work despite the distraction. At least your mind was off of Wolffe now. You weren't thinking about the feel of his hand on your shoulder, or your waist, the strength of his grip, this intensity of his gaze… oh kriff, who were you kidding.

“Boost I need you to-”

Before you could even register who's voice it was, Boost was pushing your side into the Commander. You cried out as the soldering tool stabbed and burned into your other hand suddenly, drawing blood and cauterising the wound all at once. It was a mess, and Boost immediately began apologising.

Wolffe sighed agressively, righting you again, “I'll patch her up, you best kriff off now Boost”

There was no room for objection in his tone, and Boost slinked off with another apology, and guilt weighing his shoulders.

“Do you have a medkit here?” Wolffe asked as you rested your back against the workstation, holding your hand closed with the other one.

“Bottom drawer” You said, unable to meet his gaze, unable to focus on anything but the searing pain in your palm.

He retrieved the medkit and opened it up, setting it down on the desk and taking off his gloves, “Alright, let's see it”

He took your hands in his, and that's when your breathing stopped. His hands were unexpectedly soft and gentle, pulling your hand away from the wounded one and opening it up. There was blood smeared all over your palm and fingers, but all you could focus on was Wolffe. The feeling of his hands as they cleaned you up, the gentleness of his grip and the lack of a scowl on his features.

“So are you going to tell me why the boys have been doing this all week?” He said, looking up to find you already looking into his eyes when he had wrapped your hand.

You huffed a bit, “I don't know, because they're idiots, mainly”

Wolffe hummed thoughtfully, “So it has nothing to do with the conversation I overheard the other night?”

You froze completely.

“What?” You managed to peep out, but it was barely above a whisper.

Wolffe’s lips curled into a small smirk, “Something about… not minding the idea of making out with me?” He jogged your memory teasingly.

You could feel your heart beating faster and faster, your insides constricting and your throat drying up. He had heard exactly what you had said.

“It was just a silly game we were playing” You tried to play it off but Wolffe wasn't having it.

“Mhm” He hummed amusedly, “A game which - if I'm not mistaken - has the word ‘truth’ somewhere in the title”

You had to rip your eyes from his at that point, it was becoming too uncomfortable, and you could feel the blush creeping up your neck. He stepped forwards so that his boots were touching yours, his chest almost against yours.

“So you're saying you haven't thought about it?” He asked, his voice in a slightly lower register, giving it a slightly gravelly tone.

You gulped. “No, I havent” You lied through your teeth, but you were never good at that, and it was given away by the quiver in your voice.

“That's a shame” Wolffe mumbled, and your eyes snapped back to his, slightly widened.

You were sweating at this point, your body feeling like it was on fire with his so close by. Wolffe just smirked knowingly.

“Ah, so it's true, you really do want me to kiss you?” He leaned forward a fraction more, his chest brushing against yours as he placed one hand on the bench behind you, the other finding your waist.

You were burning up under his gaze and now his touch, unable to think clearly.

“I feel like you're putting words in my mouth” You spoke breathlessly, clearly flustered as you looked between his eyes and anything around him in a panic. Wolffe just chuckled, gripping your waist tighter.

“I don't think I am darling”

By then, he was only a hairbreadth from your lips, and all the composure you still had was hanging by a thread.

“Commander, what…?” You trailed off, you couldn't make sense of the situation. You had assumed he found you completely irritating and just plain didn't like you, only holding it together in meetings because he had to. But now, with his breath mingling with yours, you were left confused.

“Do you not want me to kiss you?” He asked sincerly, his face moving back slightly and eyes flicking over your face for any sign that you didn't want this. Your eyes closed at the feel of his hot breath on your lips and you let out a shaky breath.

“I…” You couldn't muster up any words, your brain wasnt functioning as it should. The only thing you could get out, was “Why?”

He chuckled lowly, and your eyes opened to see the skin around his eyes crinkled slightly as he smiled fondly.

“Believe it or not, I don't find you anywhere near as annoying as I pretend I do. In fact…” He said quietly, brushing a piece of hair behind your ear before settling his palm against your cheek, “I might even like you, just a bit”

Wolffe could see your eyes sparkle at his words, “Really?”

“Really” He said resolutely.

You couldn't help but smile up at him, that winning smile that he so loved.

“See, how could I resist a smile like that”

You blushed and looked down shyly, unsure how to deal with this kind of attention from the Commander. You were used to him being cold, not necessarily ignoring you, but just not engaging with your friendly advances. That, you could deal with, but this, was something else entirely.

He tilted your head up again with a finger under your chin, “Not like you to be so quiet. Something on your mind darling?”

The pet name rolled so easily off his tongue despite how strange it was to hear from him, but the more you became intoxicated by his presence surrounding you, the more right it felt.

He's right, usually you had something to say. A quick joke, a quip, a small compliment at the very least, but nothing was coming to mind. You could only look at him and hope to convey everything that your mind wouldn't bring forth.

Your eyes naturally flicked down from his, trailing along his mouth that was so close to yours, and back up to his cybernetic one. He was so effortlessly handsome, in a way you didn't see with the other clones. Perhaps his eye set him apart, or perhaps it was his usual attitude. You didn't know, but with him pressing you into your workstation, there was no way that you'd figure it out right then and there.

“Wolffe” You whispered, the name causing his eyebrows to raise. You had never called him by his name, not once, and that was certainly not lost on him.

“What is it, Mesh'la?” He said lowly, his head tipping forwards to lightly press his forehead to yours. Your breathing evened out at the comforting gesture.

“Kiss me” You whispered, your lips almost grazing his.

He grinned, speaking almost as quietly, “I thought you'd never ask”

Then his lips were on yours.

He held your waist tightly as his lips moved in perfect harmony with yours, melding together in a dance of quiet passion. You had never been kissed with such reverence, such intensity and yet such sweetness. His lips captured yours as if they were made to fit together, and they had finally found their purpose in meeting. The kiss didn't last long, but all that needed to be confessed was laced within it's lingering aftertaste.

Wolffe pulled away, his grin no longer taunting in anyway, but just one of genuine contentment. His thumb stroked your cheek gently as he held you to him with his other arm.

“Was it everything you hoped it'd be?” He asked, rubbing his nose against yours slightly.

You chuckled softly, a smile parting your lips, “It was way better”

“Better?” Wolffe raised his eyebrows slightly, “So, in your wildest dreams I was a lousy kisser?”

“That's not what I meant” You frowned a little.

“What did you mean then?” He asked with a growing smirk.

“Just that it was really grea-” You paused, observing his amused expression, “You knew what I meant” You rolled your eyes affectionately, earning an amused huff from Wolffe.

“I did” He mumbled with a smile, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead, “I just wanted to hear you say it”

“Just look at me. Forget everything else.”

An injury on the battlefield, hands clasped tightly - im thinking a clone x reader during the clone wars timeline, even better if reader or clone is a medic

~🍯

oh yes, we love hurt x comfort, especially combined with angst! one of my favorite tropes and i eat it up every. single. time.

i think we'll do a commander wolffe x jedi healer reader for this one. just a psa, this one has mature content, so if you have a meek stomach, i suggest scrolling past this one! (also idc if this is not canon. this is my canon.)

"he's over here!"

as the world around you seemed to crumble, you could pick out comet's distressed call, the desperation inflected in his tone nearly cracking his voice.

"i'm coming!" you cried, cupping your hands around your lips to amplify your voice, "who is it?"

"it's wolffe!"

oh gods.

fuck, fuck, fuck.

sprinting forward, the clamor of battle was nearly deafening. your heart was thumping, adrenaline pumping through your veins as you stumbled upon the sight of comet, holding wolffe to his chest.

wolffe was nearly unconscious, his breathing ragged, streaks of blood caked to the right side of his face. for just a moment, you felt your body still, the hairs on your neck tingling.

his right eye was gone, a gaping, horrendous wound in its place. the worst aspect of it was that the blood did not seem to end, gushing nearly all over his features.

yet, you clenched your jaw, exhaling a shaky breath. no matter who it was, you needed a clear mind. you were a healer, a medic for the jedi. this is what you were meant to do. this is what you did best. this is the person you were meant to be.

"wolffe," you murmured, kneeling beside him, "i'm here. it's okay."

"i can't fucking see!" a mangled sob rang out, "i can't fucking see! where are my brothers? what's happening? i need to know!"

"wolffe," carefully, you cradled his face, "i'm here."

"oh gods," he groaned, nearly going limp under your touch, "it hurts. it hurts so fucking much. fix me, baby. please."

"i will," your voice was softened, just enough to comfort him, "you'll be okay."

"w-what about my eye?" you noticed the glitter of a tear as his lip trembles, "what are we going to do about my eye baby?"

"wolffe, just look at me. forget everything else."

"i'm just so scared baby," the tears were relentless now, "i'm so scared. what if they decommission me? put me medical leave?"

"you're worrying about the wrong things right now," somehow a giggle bubbled up in your throat, your hands searching for your medpack, "we'll figure it out. we always will."

"just don't let me die," a trembling hand found yours, intertwining your fingers together, "don't let me die baby."

"i won't," pausing from your work, you squeezed his hand gently, "i won't let anything else happen to you. not while i'm here."

"stars, i love you," his voice was growing more quiet now, raspy and broken. yet, you heard. and you knew comet heard them. but he was quiet, a solemn expression painted across his features.

however, you could sense an understanding in his aura. almost like an unspoken promise.

he would not speak of this. not to buir. not to the council. not to anyone. this would be a secret he would keep for the two of you, for many moons to come.

as wolffe began to slip into unconsciousness, he dipped his head, almost prompting you to say the words you desperately wanted to blurt out.

"i love you too, wolffe. more than you will ever know."

and with that, the commander's world grew black.

Thought I would compile all the fics I read each month as a rec list, for anyone who missed the reblogs of each fic or wants a central place to find stuff. And also for my own tracking purposes as I continue to read based on my notifications.

Period Headcanons by @kimiheartblade | Cody, Wolffe, Fives, Echo, Rex, Kix, Hunter x reader

To Speak Without Words - Ch. 1 by @stardusthuntress | Crosshair x reader

Awake series by @danceswithsporks | Part 1 - Part 2 - Part 3 - Part 4 - Part 5 | Crosshair x reader

"I think this is the part where you kiss me" by @wings-and-beskar | Hardcase x reader

"Need my mouth on you." by @littlemissmanga | Jesse x reader

I'm Not Alone (That's Good to Know) by @baby-i-just-wanna-kiss | Captain Rex x reader

Battle Scars by @just-here-with-my-thoughts | Tech x Phee

Slow Dancing by @coffeeandbatboys | Captain Vaughn x reader

Slow Dancing - Part 2 by @coffeeandbatboys | Captain Vaughn x reader

End of Avoidance by @hetalianskywalker | Commander Wolffe x reader

Midnight Dances by @dragonrider9905 | Wrecker x reader

A Kiss by @merkitty49 | Wrecker x reader

Wolffe x f!Model!Reader: Thank You

[A/N]: Another chapter taken from a book of oneshots I used to have on Quotev and Tumblr - I think I deleted it two years ago? Whew, time flies. So yeah, this is an old work. If you read my Captain Rex oneshot Droid-Crusher, I wrote this oneshot not long after. I think I wrote this oneshot nearly four years ago, which is crazy, because I feel like my writing has changed a lot since then. I'm really posting this for old time's sake, with a few edits so I don't lose my mind (lol!). This goes out to all you Wolffe girlies (gn) (I'm one of them). Hope you guys like it!

Summary: You are a talented supermodel quickly climbing the ranks of Coruscant's fashion industry—but your life wasn't always the runway or the studio. With your newfound influence, you found a charity to benefit the GAR and its relief efforts. One thing leads to another, and you end up meeting a man you'd never expected to see again...

Warnings: None

read it here on ao3!

"Hey, Boost! Check this out." Sinker beckoned for Boost, who was cleaning out the barrel of his rifle, to glance over at his holopad.

"A fundraiser for the GAR?" Boost muttered, skimming through the article's contents. "I wonder who could be backing this." 

"The Republic doesn't have an endless source of money, y'know." Sinker mused. "But a lot of rich senators and whatnot want to donate to the cause." The two troopers continued reading through the holonet article. 

"Oh, so a supermodel wants to donate to the Grand Army? Not something you see every day." Boost remarked. 

"Y/N L/N, too! Coruscant's top model!" Sinker exclaimed. “She went viral a few months ago and immediately signed to one of the biggest modeling firms on the planet. There’s a huge market for high fashion models in all the super-rich Core Worlds, so she must be raking in loads of credits.”

“How do you know that, Sinker?” Boost asked with narrowed eyes. “Have you been spending your downtime studying the Coruscanti fashion industry?”

“N-no! When I’m bored and we’re in hyperspace, I like to read those trashy celebrity magazines on the Holonet. Y/N’s a sensation, I hear.”

"For what reason would she want to start a fundraiser?" Boost mused. Wolffe, who was examining a map on the other side of the wardroom table, nearly spit out his caf when one of Y/N's photos turned up on Sinker's holopad. He recognized the determined, fiery look in her eyes all too well.

The scent of burning flesh and smoking debris filled the air over Y/N's home planet. Sirens wailed, but the anguished citizens wailed louder. Nothing could possibly be worse for the war-torn planet—but to Commander Wolffe and the 104th, it was another day conducting search-and-rescues and relief missions.

Wolffe clambered over fallen debris, signaling for the Wolfpack to disperse in search of survivors in the burning city. The Separatists had spared no one from their wrath—the entire capital had been torched. 

A loud creaking sound grated at Wolffe's ears, alerting him of a failing structure. Just in time, he saw the already-scorched building sagging under the weight of decimated masonry and scaffolding, a woman trying to climb down the tall structure. She had reached the crumbling and listing balcony with a makeshift rope made out of bedding when more wreckage rained from above, trapping her against the harsh, exposed concrete of the balcony floor. Wolffe looked up and met the (E/C) eyes of the woman, whose gaze burned with unprecedented determination and willpower. Arm outstretched to the clone commander, she made one last attempt to free herself of the wreckage. Wolffe, having done this a million times before, ignited his jetpack and rushed to her side. 

Yes, she was beautiful—she was absolutely dazzling. However, something was different this time around. It was her will to live, Wolffe thought, that struck him as odd. Each and every other survivor he had seen before appeared to either have had the Living Force leached right out of them, eyes empty and dim—or were gripped with intense fear and shock. Wolffe finally heaved off the last few planks of wood off of the woman's ash-covered form, returning her safely to the ground. Finally stumbling onto solid ground, the woman gripped his gloved hands tightly and securely, staring straight into his darkened visor. 

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you."

During the days following up to the fundraiser, Wolffe found it difficult to get your likeness off of his mind. It seemed as if every daily briefing that pinged onto his datapad contained a picture of you, striding confidently down a catwalk with the same look in your eyes while you stared straight at the camera with an air of professionalism and talent. Your metamorphosis stunned Wolffe—he'd never learned the name of the woman he had saved from the burning wreckage the year before, but there was no doubt that she was the model he saw so often in the fashion and beauty advertisements flashing across Coruscant's biggest billboards that he'd never bothered to look at. Your likeness haunted him day and night, yet it was what pushed him to work harder to support the 104th and General Plo Koon. 

On the day that you arrived at the base, you were met by the many squadrons and battalions that were reporting on Coruscant. Cameras flashed from all angles, some from the many gossip columns on the Holonet, others from more prominent planetary news sources. You greeted them with a smile that had taken you weeks to perfect, and the clones stood at attention without fail. Jedi Generals Anakin Skywalker, Obi-Wan Kenobi, Yoda, and Plo Koon welcomed you courteously.

"Y/N L/N. To the military base, we welcome you." Yoda began with a bow. 

"No need to bow to me, Master. I am forever grateful for the opportunity to raise money for the Republic." You replied with a bow of your own. "If anything, I should be bowing to you."

"Is that really her?" Sinker hissed under his breath as he stood at attention with the rest of the 104th. "She's prettier than she looks in the photos." You were dressed casually, but you could have worn a garbage bag and still exuded the effortlessly elegant look of an off-duty model.

"Shut up, Sinker. She'll notice you!" Comet whispered back, subtly elbowing Sinker. Wolffe tried not to pay attention to the clone sergeant's shenanigans, eyes fixed on Y/N.

"Why don't we discuss the details and potential benefactors inside? I have a few ideas." General Kenobi offered, leading you inside. "At ease, troopers." The battalions, in neat rows by rank and seniority, dispersed and returned to their tasks. You were led through a hangar, where you admired LAATs with an appreciative eye, through busy corridors, and finally, to a meeting room of sorts where some holographic images glowed blue over a conference table. 

"After you, Miss L/N." General Koon began, making way for you to stand at the head of the table. "We have much to discuss." Thanking the Jedi Master, you immediately began examining the holos. 

"Senator Amidala of Naboo has expressed interest in your project," General Skywalker began from the other side of the table. "She wants to know more about the high-caliber photo-ops and how you will run your campaign."

"Is that so?" You replied, remaining deep in thought. "I have also received word that Senators Mon Mothma and Aang are also willing to contribute, along with various comically shallow and snooty socialites who have money to support the cause." You joked, noticing General Skywalker suppressing laughter.

"Strengthen public relations, we must." Yoda suggested. "With this program, discrimination of clones, we should stop." You nodded in agreement. 

"That's why I'm here, Master Yoda. This is exactly what I came here to do." You pulled up a holo of some names and locations. "I've been talking this over with my agency and manager. They're willing to let me see this project through, so I've scheduled some times and dates for things like charity events and relief missions."

"Oh, so you want to conduct relief missions as well?" General Kenobi inquired. You nodded in confirmation.

"That's right. I...have a history with mercy missions." You answered with an uncomfortable pause. "In my opinion, they’re just as important as military campaigns, and I hope the general public believes so as well." 

"Very well, Miss L/N. Thankful for your support, we are." Master Yoda and the other Jedi nodded, seeming to have come to a consensus on the campaign's goals. One by one they left, leaving you to admire and explore the base. You started with the hangar, where you found Y-wings, Aethersprites, and Torrent starfighters being serviced. Several clones began whispering amongst themselves upon your entrance while others waved enthusiastically. 

"Miss L/N! What brings you to the hangar today?" A pilot whose helmet was decorated with blue-gray curlicues appeared in front of you, saluting. 

"I'm just having a look around. I'll be spending a lot of time on base during these next few months." You replied with a gracious smile. Just entering the hangar with the rest of the Wolfpack, Wolffe noticed how friendly but professional you were off of the runway and out of earshot of the nosy Coruscanti press. 

"Warthog, how are we doin' on that fighter—!" Wolffe stopped dead in his tracks. It was you. He noticed the change in demeanor that suddenly overcame you upon noticing him. "You..."

The project was blessed with massive success from the start—many civilians began to show their support for the Republic and the clones that gave their lives to defend it. You assisted mission after mission, working not just as the GAR’s covergirl but as the grunt lugging crates, helping the clones with menial but necessary tasks. 

While your fame grew as a charitable influencer and supermodel, you began to spend more time with Wolffe. It was certainly a simple pleasure to sit shoulder to shoulder with the clone troopers of the Wolfpack not as their boss, but as their equal—even more so that you were able to stay by their jaded commander who'd coincidentally saved your life not so long ago—and captured your heart in the process.

The 104th and company milled about the camps, ushering on gonk droids and heaving crates of bacta and provisions everywhere. Watching on from the top of a grassy hill, Y/N and Wolffe took a break from the constant heavy lifting of supplies from supply ships to the war refugees they had come to aid. As a part of Y/N's campaign to promote and benefit the GAR's relief efforts, she would be attending every mercy mission they would be conducting for the next few months as the campaign continued. There were cam droids everywhere to document the effort, broadcasting your likeness as you worked with the clones and Jedi wherever you were called.

The people wanted someone real and candid, not just another out-of-touch celebrity. You hypothesized that your approach to your campaign had made you popular in the media because of how real it felt. 

The hovercams were on you nearly every waking hour of the day. Sometimes you spoke with them, like the popular vloggers on the Holonet. But this time, you were taking a break from all the attention.

"The view is pretty from up here." You began. The breeze tousled your hair, and the sky on this particular planet was especially beautiful at dusk. 

"Yeah, except for all of the soot and debris." Wolffe replied, kicking a stray droid arm down the hill. You stole a look at his pensive face, admiring the scar over his cybernetic eye as a long, stretched-out silence overcame the two of you. "You knew, didn't you? About the fires, and the balcony." Wolffe blurted out. Seeing your expression of surprise, he realized the gravity of what he had said. To his surprise, your eyes softened, reminiscing back to the moment that had changed your life. 

"Yes, I remember." You revealed your left wrist to him. A thick, flesh-colored scar ran along the side of your hand. "I got cut pretty badly by a piece of glass that night." Passing his gloved thumb over the scar, Wolffe pressed a kiss to your hand, lips brushing against the long scar. 

"The first time I met you." Wolffe whispered with a small smile. "How could I have forgotten?" You tried to hide your blush and the tingling sensation of Wolffe's lips against your skin, but your expression betrayed you. 

"Wolffe, I..." The feeling of his arms carrying you to safety, strong and reliable, had been seared into your memory. You'd entertained the thought of meeting your hero and savior again one day, even after the Rodian talent scout had found you working as an underpaid waitress on Coruscant—it was because of Wolffe that you were able to become who you are. He was the one who gave you a second chance at life. "...had you not been there, I would have burned in that apartment on some godforsaken planet with no escape."

"Y/N, I'll stay by your side forever if I have to…." Wolffe cupped your face in his gloved hands, drinking in the features that had been preserved so well in his mind. “...only if you would have me.” 

“Of course, Commander…” You leaned in for a deep, long kiss, no longer wanting to run from all of the pent-up weeks of pining that threatened to destroy all of your self control.

"Thank you," you murmured. "Thank you."

What a trip down memory lane! Believe it or not, there are a lot more oneshots I deleted that I have yet to republish. I can't believe I had the foresight to save them - I guess I didn't have the heart to delete over a year's worth of writing. Until next time! x

Let me know if you want to be part of my general or Star Wars taglist!

Wolffe x f!Officer!Reader: One and Only

[A/N]: Bullying sucks, and for some reason, a lot of anti-bullying campaigns seem to make bullies nastier. I can't say if those campaigns succeeded, though, because I feel like the term 'bully' itself has been beaten to death. This oneshot is an edited, old work that I had deleted a few years ago. My younger self wrote this hoping for a cathartic escape from my past experiences with bullies. If it's a little overdone, that's why - but I hope some of you know what it was like, too. I hope you got the support you needed during those times, but if you didn't, I genuinely hope you will, sooner better than later.

Summary: Y/N, a naval officer spending most rotations on a Venator-class star destroyer, has loved and cherished Commander Wolffe as a partner for months now. They've always managed to stay in touch and pretty much nothing could break their bond—that is, other than the scathing comments of the critical and envious.

Warnings: Bullying and self-esteem issues.

read it here on ao3

"Ugh! How did Y/N ever get promoted to naval officer? She’s such a bitch ," A voice hissed from beyond the steel corridor of the Venator-class star destroyer, namely, the Reverence.

"It's unbelievable! And they say she's Commander Wolffe's girlfriend." Another voice added. 

From the far end of the hallway, you sighed, keeping your eyes glued to your datapad. The snide comments of gossipy subordinates and snarky superior officers were starting to eat away at what little confidence you held onto. The fact that they'd even mentioned Wolffe twisted their dagger-like insults into the very flesh of your psyche. 

Taking a sharp left into the control room, you wished that their eyes could refrain from boring straight into your back and following your bowed head past the glowing table to where the Admiral stood. 

"Admiral." He nodded in acknowledgement of your entrance.

"L/N. Have you received word from General Koon about our strategy for the offense?"

"I just received the transmission, sir. I came to inform you that he has approved our strategy and is willing to put it to the test." You answered, handing him your datapad.

"Thank you, officer. You may go now." You nodded and strode right out of the room and right into a gaggle of medbay nurses—civilians from a volunteer corp, terribly patronizing and unbelievably annoying—who immediately scattered, tittering with laughter. 

"Maker, I’m so glad I don’t have to wear the Navy uniform. Y/N L/N takes the olive out of olive-drab." One of the medbay nurses remarked as the group disappeared down the corridor, your full name rolling off of her tongue harshly, each syllable pronounced in repulsive mockery. You instinctively clutched your datapad, focusing on the deep black of space from outside the Reverence. Somewhere out there, Wolffe is waiting for me, you thought to yourself. Let's hope he hasn't forgotten about me.

Somewhere, several systems away, Commander Wolffe ducked into a canvas tent. The sound of LAATs soaring overhead, the revving of speeder bikes, and overall commotion filled his ears—but he paid no attention to the din as he quickly punched a code into his holoprojector. After a few minutes of dialing, a familiar blue hologram finally appeared in the palm of his hand.

“Wolffe?" Your voice, although crackling with signal static, was music to Wolffe's ears.

"Y/N!" He smiled for the first time in days, the smile reaching his eyes that had become shadowed from many sleepless nights. "How’s work on the Reverence?" You shook your head.

"Well, it's been a lot like the usual." You answered, sighing. You didn’t feel like lying to Wolffe anymore—’good’ just didn’t sum up your experience at all. "I don't think a whole lot of people like me on this ship." Wolffe's smile immediately disappeared. 

"What makes you think that?" 

"It's just...I always hear this mechanic or that nurse talking behind my back. It's like they don't bother to hide it anymore." You rambled. "I hate it. I wish they'd issued me a bucket like yours to wear so I wouldn't have to show my face in front of a bunch of people who absolutely detest my ugly face!" You clenched your fists, making wrinkles in your olive-drab uniform pants.. Watching you hold back tears, Wolffe solemnly wished that he could be physically present to comfort you and hold you in his arms. 

"Y/N..." He averted his eyes, the cogs turning in his head. "I wish I could just tell all of those di'kuts to stop—"

"Wolffe, you don't have to." You interrupted him, expression caught between twisted despair and an apologetic smile. "I'm used to it, but all of this bantha shit gets to me sometimes." Wolffe chuckled quietly, sending butterflies fluttering into your stomach.

"I'm sorry you have to go through all of this, Y/N. I promise we'll be together soon." His eyes were sincere, despite his cybernetic eye. As he spoke, Sinker poked his head into the canvas tent. 

"Commander? We're still waiting on bacta. Do you really think we should consider buying bacta from the locals?" The clone inquired, jerking his thumb to where the medical tent was pitched.

"They know that we can't tell the difference between real bacta and watery jelly..." Wolffe grumbled. "Give me a moment." Sinker ducked back out of the tent, and Wolffe returned to his call. 

"What was that about?" You inquired, cocking your head in questioning. 

"Sorry Y/N, Sinker just popped in with a question." Wolffe paused, thinking quickly. "Say, Y/N. We're running out of bacta at the camps, but the locals cultivate and sell it. I don't know if we should buy it, 'cause we don't know if it's legitimate or not, and if it's actually medical grade." You pondered for a moment, searching your memory for whatever had been scribbled into the reg books of years past about Wolffe's particular dilemma.

"Hmm...what you can do is check samples of the bacta they sell to make sure it's legit. Real bacta has a thin but slimy consistency, like that of sticky porridge rations, you know what I mean? Make sure it isn't watered down.” You stated. “Oh, and the preferred kind of bacta that we typically use is mostly clear or tinged blue from the added drugs. It should also have a certain smell, kind of pungent because of the bacteria cultures in it but also kind of like the chemical additives it contains." 

Wolffe listened intently as you listed the specifications of medical-grade bacta. He enjoyed hearing you talk, especially about something you were well-versed in or passionate about—he could see the admiration glimmering in your eyes, and what confidence you had finally began to show itself. You could read him a whole reg book and he’d be riveted. 

"So, as long as it meets the requirements for standard bacta, you can buy it. As long as it doesn't cost an LAAT and a few DC-15s, I guess." You concluded with a quiet chuckle.

"That's all I need to know, Y/N. You're a life-saver, I mean it." Wolffe answered with a sincere smile. He clambered off of the munitions crate he had been using as a seat and shifted his gaze to the commotion outside of his little canvas nook. From within the hologram, you saluted. 

"No problem, Wolffe. I'll see you around, I guess." 

"I'll be with you as soon as I find time, Y/N. I promise." Wolffe murmured, eyes softening. 

"I'll be waiting."

Wolffe did end up striking up a bargain with the planet's natives, heading back to the camp with crates full of bacta. He'd memorized your instructions from the beginning to the end—check the viscosity, the color, and the smell. With your trusty advice, Wolffe inspected the bacta carefully with his medics.

       "This is some good bacta." One of the medics whistled, hauling the last of the load into the rather haphazardly set up medical tent. “How much did you say you bought it for, Commander?” Ducking under the coarse fabric, Wolffe nodded in agreement and replied absentmindedly, thoughts wandering to the many misfortunes that could have unfolded had you not been there to guide him.

Many, many parsecs away, you gazed at the stars through thick transparisteel with forlorn eyes. Your many tormenters—one of which included your own conscience—taunted you, but their voices became muffled as you diverted your focus to a different, more uplifting hypothetical, wondering on about the pit of shame you would have been wallowing in had Wolffe not picked you up out of the pile of bantha shit you'd gotten yourself into simply by introducing yourself to a crew that wished you'd never existed. 

Every minute he had to spare, he was attempting to patch through a transmission in hopes of cheering you up. He could have picked anyone to surrender his love to—someone more beautiful, more confident—but he had to pick you.

       "Officer L/N. The Admiral wants you on the bridge." One of the OODs' voices crackled onto the comm on your sleeve, snapping you out of your star-studded reverie. Peeling your eyes away from the glimmering beauty of space, you dashed for the elevator.        

       "Tell him that I'll be there in a few." You called out while slipping into the lift. The door opened to the command bridge, where the admiral stood admiring the vacuum of deep space as you had a couple of floors below.

“L/N." He began. "General Koon has informed me that the offensive against Separatist blockades has succeeded. Moderate to minimum damage and little casualties." Excitement began to bubble from within you. "He states that no other officer could have created an attack plan as brilliant and niche as yours, L/N. He considers you to be one of his best tacticians."

"I am honored to receive such praise from General Koon, Admiral. I only consider this a part of my duty as a strategic officer." 

"You certainly should be, L/N. This assault was one of our campaign's most successful by far. We have scheduled shore leave in two rotations, L/N. Keep up the good work." With a curt nod, you pivoted on your heels and exited the bridge.

Every inch of Wolffe's body was tingling with electric excitement. He couldn't possibly wait a second longer until he could finally hold you in his arms, unlike the incorporeal hologram he'd been speaking to for endless rotations. As the Reverence entered the atmosphere and his ship neared the hangar's tractor beams, he felt as if he could feel your Force signature on the ship, even though he wasn't Force-sensitive. 

The ship slowed to a stop, backing into the hangar bay. Wolffe was quick to jump down the ramp and onto the hangar, much to the surprise of his brothers and commanding officer still on board.

"Are you in a rush, Commander?" Quipped said commanding officer. The Kel Dor Jedi was making his way down the ramp, watching amusedly as Wolffe searched the bustling hangar for what seemed to be nothing in particular. 

"Yeah, where are you going so quickly?" Comet inquired, appearing from within the ship with Sinker and Boost on his heels. "Maybe he's looking for his girlfriend ," he whispered to the two, who cast knowing, side-eyed glances at each other.

You were cloistered away in your office, agonizing over several datapads and a rather large and complicated star map. Anxiously running a hand through your hair, your eyes flitted from one barrage of glowing blue Aurebesh to another. 

"Our campaign, our offensive." You muttered frantically. "I can feel the dark circles under my eyes growing." You pulled up yet another intricate star map, this time depicting a different sector. "Intel says there's a blockade here, here, and here...there, too..." 

Your thought process had already been set into motion as you first inspected the loose estimates of the Separatist numbers. Then, according to that, you instinctively began to formulate the optimal course of action—after months of long nights of studying for exams and even longer nights of strategizing aboard the Reverence and formerly the Triumphant, formulating battle strategies like so had become second nature to you. 

"The last two-pronged 'bident' attack might have been successful upon deployment of the Y-wings, but can we really guarantee the success—or predict the failure—of a Y-wing bombing run or a Torrent fighter attack?" You mused. 

"Oh my Force, she's back at it again..." You heard a fellow naval officer groan from across the office. “Karking hell, shut the kriff up!”

"Back again at what, exactly?" A familiarly gruff voice nearly made you trip over your abandoned desk chair from standing up so quickly. The big-mouthed officer from the other side of the office shut himself up immediately, standing ramrod straight and saluting stiffly. Prying your eyes away from the star maps, you saw the most welcome sight of all—Wolffe, tossing his helmet to the ground with a clatter as lurched over your desk to cup your face in his warm, gloved hands. You shimmied around your closet-like office space to throw your arms around his neck, closing in for a passionate and well-deserved kiss, filled with all of the emotions that had lost themselves in all of the sleepless nights you'd spent apart. 

"You don't know how happy I am to see you again." You breathed, melting in his embrace. Admiring the facial features that had been the object of ridicule by your bullies, Wolffe showed an air of concern at the dark shadows making themselves prominent under your drained-looking eyes. 

"You don't look too good, mesh’la. Have you been getting enough sleep?"

"Sleep can wait when an entire fleet is at risk." You answered, slipping out of his arms and making your way out of the office. You sat yourself back down at your cluttered desk, putting your head in your hands. Wolffe opted to lean against the doorframe.

"I heard from General Plo that your strategy was a success." Wolffe began. "He thinks very highly of you, Y/N."

"And so I've heard." You droned sardonically, peering at the clone commander from over your hands. "The Admiral told me all about it. How was your ground campaign?"

"Well, your advice worked wonders for our medical team. Your instructions alone saved dozens of good men out there, Y/N." 

"I'm just doing my job, Wolffe. It's all in a day's work. Any other borderline competent naval officer could have told you how to buy bacta." You replied. Wolffe sighed, taking a seat atop your desk and grasping your hands.

"You've gotta be bluffing. I can't think of any other officer who takes control of a situation like you do." 

"Really? I'm not that special."

"Are you kidding me, Y/N? Have you really been listening in on whatever those grunts are saying? Look at you." Wolffe released your hands and reached over to let a hand graze over your cheek. "Look at the wit in those eyes. You're smarter than what you give yourself credit for." Before Wolffe could continue, your comm chirped.

“Officer L/N speaking,”

"Officer?" The Admiral’s voice made you jump. "I wanted you to know that General Koon and I have put in a good word for you on the subject of promotion to a higher rank that is to be determined." 

"Really?" You sat up in your office chair, staring incredulously at your comm.

“Congratulations, L/N. Keep up the good work.”

"Need I say more?" Wolffe cast you a lopsided smile, eyes twinkling. "You're one of a kind, Y/N. Don't let anyone else tell you otherwise." He pulled you in for a kiss. 

"One of a kind, huh?" You mumbled into the kiss.

"That's right." Wolffe firmly believed that there wasn't a single person in the galaxy that could compare to you. Your ingenuity, astuteness, and acuity illuminated the black-and-white, never-ending crusade he had been born into.

“You’re my one and only.”

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