#cc3636

Something about seeing him so relaxed and loose tugged at the strings of your heart. It was a rare sight, one you thought he would only grace you with when the two of you are alone together. But here he was, throwing back whatever shit drink the bar offered him and his brothers, all the while smiling at Cody’s remark about the new shinies embarrassing themselves in front of Anakin and Obi-Wan. You’re nursing your own drink in the corner, trying to find the best possible way to approach the booth without making a scene. He’d told you before that almost everyone close to him knew of your relationship, but you felt weird about dropping the pretenses. You were his boss, after all. Well, not completely his boss, but a commanding officer regardless. If you started acting extra friendly, you’re not sure how the rest of the Wolfpack would take it. 

As you swirl the spotchka around, you suddenly feel like someone is watching you, hunting you even. There’s only one man who’s ever made you feel so heated and just as you look up from the glass in your hand towards the group of Clones you were previously studying, you notice Wolffe staring you down, the slightest hint of a smirk flashing at you in an attempt to get you to react to his attention. 

Normally, you’d enjoy the subtle flirtatious expressions, even tease him a little to get a rise out of him before escaping to the nearest room to lure him for a private moment. Or, as private a moment as 79’s can offer a Jedi Master and a Commander of the Grand Republic Army. 

But tonight was different. Tonight, you came out to the Clone bar to decide the best way to end things with Wolffe. It was the last thing you wanted to do, but you didn’t want to push your luck any further. Things were getting worse by the hour, and you couldn’t afford losing Wolffe all because some assholes in the Senate didn’t think he deserved to love or to be loved by someone. Then there was the matter of the Jedi Council, and how strict they were becoming. It was already frowned upon before the war, and it only took a few months into this galactic conflict for them to push their ideologies even harder on everyone at the Temple. 

You would never forgive yourself if they punished him simply because you couldn’t stand being far away from him any longer. You narrow your eyes at Wolffe and down the rest of your drink, disappointed in yourself for not having the guts to tell him earlier. 

And for knowing that you probably wouldn’t be able to do it tonight. 

The smile on his face drops instantly when he notices you avoiding his gaze, and you curse yourself for ruining his night. It was going so well, and one look at you made the worry return to his mind again. 

Clutching your robes tightly, you pay the bartender quickly before excusing yourself and heading towards the bathrooms in the back. You could feel the tears threaten to spill down your cheeks and the last thing you wished for is for someone to see you and make a huge fuss about it. As you push through the crowd, you feel those same pair of eyes hold you down harshly, as if they were refusing you permission to leave without confronting them. 

Quickly wiping your eyes, you push open the doors and turn around to lock them behind you, only to nearly bump into the chest of the man you were hoping to avoid tonight. You gulp nervously, and before you can say anything, Wolffe tilts his head to the side and studies you closely, his eyes roaming down your body to see if anything needs his immediate attention. 

When he finds nothing out of the ordinary, he takes a step closer to you and shuts the door behind him, not bothering to lock it as he continues to back you up until you hit the wall. 

“If I didn’t know better, I’d think you’re trying to avoid me.” His gaze is direct, unfaltering in the haze of lust he was sending you under. You furrow your eyebrows and try to look anywhere else but him, but as always, he doesn’t give you the easy way out. Grabbing the bottom of your chin, he turns you until you have no choice but to look straight into his eyes and respond. 

“What if I was?” You’re not sure what pushes you to say something so defensive, but the chuckle it gets out of him makes you realize you had already lost whatever game he was playing with you. 

“I’d say you should have gone to another bar.” He’s right. You know this, and he definitely knows this too. The ease with which he continues to have an effect on you would normally be welcomed, but you’re pissed at him. Pissed for being so weak for him. For not bothering to put up a fight. 

“But here you are…at the one place you knew I was coming to tonight.” Wolffe leans down and nudges your temple with his nose, breathing in the scent of your sweat and perfume, and forcing you to reach for him so you don’t topple over from the sheer amount of control he has on you. 

“So tell me mesh’la, what have I done to deserve the cold shoulder?” He whispers the question in your ear, slowly sliding his hands down your body until they reach your waist. You’re having a difficult time breathing, and you moan his name as you throw your head back when he squeezes your hips and pushes his chest impossibly closer into your own. 

“I- you didn’t…it,” you can’t form a coherent sentence, let alone a sensical thought, when you’re so overwhelmed by his presence alone. You thought he would laugh at you, but when his breathing becomes nearly as erratic as your own, you understand that he was genuinely trying to figure out if he’s done something wrong. His methods seldom changed, and you weren’t surprised that he was trying to get you to talk by touching you as intimately as possible without tearing your clothes off. 

“Don’t tell me I did nothing wrong…sir. Something must have happened, or else you would be begging me to have my way with you right now. So what is it? What have I done?” Wolffe repeats again, making you feel guilty for your behavior and for what you’ve been thinking of doing since the last time you were together. You remind yourself that he deserves someone better, someone who wouldn’t compromise his position in the GAR all because of their messed-up religion. He deserved so much more than you. 

And the mere mention of your rank made it worse.

“W-Wolffe, I umm, I can’t do this anymore.” You know this was the last thing he expected you to say because in the blink of an eye, he’s removing himself from you completely and putting space between your shaking body and his own wound up chest. When you muster up the courage to look into his eyes, a shiver courses down your spine. 

It has been so long since he’s given you such a look, one that was filled with nothing but suspicion and guardedness. He’s quiet for longer than you like, and when you reach for him in an attempt to console him, his frown deepens and he twitches away from you. You hadn’t expected such a reaction to hurt this much, but it does, and like before, you have no control over the stream of tears rolling down your chin. Again, it’s not what he expects to witness from you, certainly not after what you just declared to him, and when you sniffle to get yourself under control, he closes the space between you more aggressively than before, slamming his hands on both sides of your face and clenching his jaws tightly when he sees you pouting at him. 

“I don’t know what I’ve done, I don’t. But I’m sorry regardless. I am so very sorry. Whatever it is, we can talk it out. It’s not worth throwing away all that we have. Please. Just- krifff…tell me what it is I have done, and I will get down on my knees right now and beg for your forgiveness. But don’t do this, don’t give up on us.” In all your time knowing Wolffe, you’ve never once heard him speak with such a tone. He was always assertive, confident and unwavering in his commanding presence. 

But the only thing you could feel now is his fear. 

“You did nothing wrong, it’s me…it’s all me Wolffe.” You know this won’t be enough for him, but you try to convince him regardless. Then he drops his head against your shoulder and you know you won’t be able to hold out much longer. 

“I wasn’t born yesterday sweetheart. If you’ve ever held an ounce of respect for me, you’ll tell me what I did wrong. You owe me that much. I- I deserve to know.” If you didn’t know better, you’d think he was close to breaking down as well. 

“I do Wolffe, I respect you…more than anyone. You have to know that.” You hope he doesn’t turn away when you reach for him again, and as you cup his cheeks in the palms of your hands to raise his attention to you, you’re met with an expression you never thought you’d see on his features. 

“You haven’t done anything baby, it’s me. It’s…all me.” If you were a better person, you would have been consistent in your tone with him, but seeing him so torn down broke you, and you couldn’t not soothe him the way you always did whenever he comes back from a particularly difficult mission. 

“You deserve someone better Wolffe, someone who would never compromise your safety. Being with me is- it’s getting dangerous. The Council is becoming more strict…the Senate even worse. If they court martial you because you’re with me, I- I don’t know what I would do.” There’s something so gut-wrenching about the way he refuses to look away from your moving lips, and when you stop talking, he doesn’t blink once, his cybernetic eye focusing in and out before slowly blinking along with the other.

“Someone better?” It’s clear that he’s still hurt by the word vomit you threw at him, but whereas his voice showed it earlier, the shakiness and reluctance is gone now, replaced with a menacing, almost angry tone that you were too familiar with, one that you’ve witnessed during battle when his orders weren’t obeyed immediately. 

“I can’t give you what you want Wolffe, not without hurting you eventually…unintentionally. My- my religion, it’s becoming a threat to your well-being. It’s not worth the hassle. I am not worth the hassle. You could do so much better than-” Whatever you’re about to say gets lost in the damp air of the room as soon as Wolffe decides he’s heard enough of what was on your mind. He grips your neck tightly, winding his other arm around your back and violently pulling you into his embrace as he swallows your surprised shrieks. Your frown deepens for another moment before you surrender yourself to the possessive kiss, and Wolffe must feel you melting into his arms because he growls against your lips and claims your tongue without remorse. 

His hold on you only grows stronger when he feels your arms move to wrap around his neck, and when he’s sure you’re trying to get closer to him and not push him away, he tilts his head to the side and deepens the kiss, not caring for how messy or aggressive he’s being with you as he shoves his tongue past your lips and reminds you of what you could be missing if you got what you wanted and left him. 

As the need for air becomes difficult to ignore, Wolffe breaks the kiss and gives the two of you a moment of respite. When he opens his eyes and finds your orbs glistening with unshed tears, he swears beneath his breath and lunges for you again, the hand around your throat loosening for a fraction of a second before tightening around your jugular and forcing you to accept his rejection of your wishes. You moan into the kiss, allowing him to take whatever he wants from you, knowing that he wasn’t going to allow you to go through with whatever it is you thought you could get away with tonight. When he’s content with the reactions of your mind and body to his touch, 

“You nearly broke my heart, ner runi. Don’t ever say that to me again!” Wolffe refuses to let go of you, afraid you’d leave the room thinking that he agreed to the sentiment you dropped on him a second ago. When you say nothing in return, he shakes his head and crushes you into his arms, nuzzling into your neck and breathing you in to attempt and calm his nerves. He prays that you give him some form of an answer that confirms your understanding of what he just said, but when you don’t, Wolffe sighs heavily and pulls back enough to take a better look at you. 

“Wolffe, we need to talk ab-” Again, he doesn’t care for what you have to say and cuts you off, letting you know that this was definitely the end of the conversation. 

“No, we’re done talking. You can keep your religion sweetheart, I couldn’t care less for its consequences…but don’t you fucking dare and ask me to abandon mine.” His voice is firm, the familiar unyielding articulation confirming to you that he’s already made up his mind on the matter. There would be no more on the matter. 

As much as you hate to admit it, it feels like a bantha has lifted one of its feet off your chest. You look into his eyes and find them filled with a more familiar emotion, one that kept you going ever since you confessed your feelings to him. You thought it would be difficult to get him to accept your proposition, but you realize then and there that it was definitely harder for you to come to terms with your initial thoughts. 

You slowly smile at him, and it must be what Wolffe needs to hear to forget the last few minutes because his touches become less crazed and more soothing, a level of intimacy you’re always yearning for when the two of you are away from each other for too long. 

“And what...what is your religion?” You barely find the attention span to ask, the familiarity of his touch and his voice sending you down a spiral of lust-filled thoughts that only increased the longer Wolffe remained in your presence. 

“Your body is my religion cyar’ika, and I’m not planning on losing my faith any time soon.” The confession is lewd, mostly because he’s using your weakness to drive the message home. But as dirty as the admission sounded on his lips, you couldn’t help but sink into his embrace, wanting to hear more of him so you could forget about why you were here in the first place. 

“Is that s-so?” You’re practically shaking in his arms, and Wolffe uses your momentary distraction to tug your robes apart and leave a trail of kisses down your neck to where he wanted to bite you most. 

“Yeah,” he licks at your skin, wishing with all his heart he could have you right then and there. It’s not as if the two of you haven’t fucked at 79’s before. He just knew that you both needed something more, something that he can only accomplish in the privacy of his rooms. 

“Here’s what’s going to happen. I’m going to excuse myself for the night, tell the boys I have to finish reports for the General.” He slips a hand underneath the edge of your shirt, drawing circles on your waist until you slowly begin to roll your hips into him. 

“Ahuh,” you’re not really paying attention to what he’s saying, your body already frozen with anticipation now that it felt his hands and his tongue leaving marks across it again. 

“Focus,” he squeezes your ass, shaking it twice to get you to open your eyes and look past the haze to obey his next commands. 

“Yes sir.” You bite into your lip and giggle when he narrows his eyes at you and mumbles something about punishing you for being a tease. 

“You’re going to leave shortly after, something about being needed back at the Temple.” Your stomach twists in knots when you realize he’s using his ‘Commander’ voice on you, and you can’t help but wrap your arms around his neck and mold your lips with his own when you remember the last time he used that same tone on you. 

What a night it was. 

“And where w-will I actually be going?” You ask as soon as Wolffe pulls you away and breaks the kiss. 

“My room baby, where you’ll stay for the rest of the night.” He says matter of factly, as if you shouldn’t even be asking his such a question. 

“Pray tell, Commander. What will we be doing that- oh kriff, that will require me to spend the night in your quarters?” You throw your head back when his hand slithers up your body and cups your breast through your Jedi robes. You can almost feel the heat radiating off the palm of his hand, and the harder he gropes you through your clothes, the more you wish he would just push you down on all fours and fuck you into oblivion. 

“Well, I don’t know about you sweetheart, but I’ll be practicing my faith...and worshiping every inch of your body until the only thing you can feel is me.” The smirk on his face would be menacing if you weren’t so used to it by now, and you gasp lightly when he leans down and bites the skin of your shoulder peeking from beneath your cloak. 

“Oh gods-”

“That’s it, moan for me cyar’ika. I want the whole fucking bar to know who makes you feel good.” Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and pushes his leg in between, slowly moving you back and forth on him to give you a preview of what’s to come tonight. 

“Wolffe, please. I need you.” You fall forward against his chest, whining for him as he continues to move you across his thigh and dares you to come from such a simple touch. 

“Oh, now you need me?” You know he’s joking without looking at him, but the question throws you off guard and you snap your gaze up to see if he was hurt by what you said previously. 

“I- I didn’t…I’m sorry.”

“None of that.” Wolffe shakes his head, not wanting to ruin the moment by something so trivial. He slows down his touches but keeps you moving on him, hoping to distract you long enough to make this night a little better for the both of you. 

“Wolffe,” you call for him again, not in warning but in desperation, hoping that he can see how sorry you are for ever doubting what the two of you had. 

“That was cruel of me, forgive me sweetheart.” His voice is soft, so much sweeter than before, and you’re reminded by how quickly his mood changes whenever he senses you’re upset or angry. 

“How could you ask that when I am the one who hurt you?” You should drop it, everything that he’s done is proof that you should let this go and get back to more important matters, but you can’t stop yourself from asking him, wanting to know why he’s always so patient and caring with you when he was the one who deserved better. 

“You didn’t hurt me, cyare.”

“I did, I- I almost…”

“You could never hurt me, little one. Never.” Like before, he doesn’t care for whatever you have to say, not because he doesn’t value your words, but because he knows how difficult your relationship with him probably weighs on your mind. 

Even from the beginning. 

You study him for what feels like hours but is probably only seconds. And you wonder how anyone could ever think him cruel and rude when he was so loving and unbelievably long-suffering. Without warning, you throw yourself at him, mirroring his actions from before and shoving your mouth against his own to feel grounded. He doesn’t waste a second, pushing you harder against the wall and sucking on your tongue until you were a moaning mess in his embrace. 

“F-fuck, if you keep that up, I won’t- kriff, I won’t hold back.” Wolffe rests his forehead against yours, trying to keep himself in check so he doesn’t end up embarrassing the two of you by what his body is willing to do. 

“Then don’t!”

“You want me to fuck you right here, where anyone can walk in and see you getting filled with my cock?” He shouldn’t be surprised by how wanton you are, and although he knows he should step away and put some space between you and him, he can’t help but retort with his own teasing comment. 

“Please Commander.” You lean up and kiss his jugular, nipping at the skin just above his armor and soothing it with another kiss before laying your head back and meeting his intense gaze. 

“Always playing dirty. Just for that, you’ll have to wait.” Wolffe clears his throat and eyes you up and down before taking a few steps back. He barely manages to hold back from laughing when you stumble forward and nearly lose your footing. You’re about to complain when he raises a hand and silences you, furrowing his eyebrows at you in an attempt to look intimidating. 

“Another word, and I won’t give you my cock tonight.” He warns calmly, smirking immediately when you shake your head and tell him you’ll be good.

“No please, I’ll stop. I’ll behave, I swear.” 

“You’ll behave-?” The question trails until the room is silent again and you know instantly what you said wrong. 

“Commander.” You whisper to him as you try to fix your clothes and hair so you don’t look like you were fucked against a wall by the Commander of the 104th Battalion. You don’t dare smile at him, afraid he’d misunderstand the gesture for another one of your teasing expressions and completely throw the night away. 

“Good girl, now do as you’re told and I promise to reward you.” He watches you saunter past him and before you unlock the door, he smacks your ass quite harshly, watching you closely to see if you were going to behave or retort like you usually do. 

“Yes, sir.” You don’t dare give into his tricks, hoping to get through the next hour or so without getting distracted, or worse…caught. 

“Off you go.” He gestures for you to leave before him, and when you’re no longer in sight, he shuts his eyes and sighs in relief. Wolffe is not sure how the two of you got to where you are now, but considering the fact that he expected something like this to happen since you got together, he’s relieved that it was for reasons different from what his mind conjured up all those nights he spent alone in his bed. 

You walk out and move towards the bar again, your eyes roaming across the busy bar and waiting until Wolffe walks out before you make sure that no one noticed the two of you together. He follows you soon after, finding you almost instantly and winking at you before he heads towards his men. You watch as he tells Sinker to give him his helmet, and you assume they all roll their eyes not a second later because he told them he needed to get some paperwork done. 

But as soon as Cody looks at you, he knows what Wolffe is planning on doing, and before you can turn away from him, he raises his glass and smiles at you before downing the rest of his drink. You should be embarrassed at being seen, but something about the way the Commander gestures at you makes you smile, as if he was telling you that he hoped the two of you are okay. You shake your head at him and throw your hood up, walking to the Commander of the 21st Nova Corps to let him know you’ll be leaving earlier tonight. 

“Ah General, I was wondering when you’ll be joining us.” You smile at Commander Bacara and the boys, giving them a few credits to let them know the next two rounds were on you. 

“Sorry Bacara, I’m calling it early tonight. Needed back at the Temple!” You feel bad for lying to him, but as always, he doesn’t ask for an elaboration, telling you that he hopes you don’t have to do too much paperwork while you’re still on break. 

“See you later,” you nod at him and the others when they salute you, and just as you walk out of the bar, you vaguely hear them yell for the droid making its rounds to get them a round of quanya. 

“Hmm, didn’t peg them for the type.” You mutter to yourself as you step out into the chilly Coruscant air, looking around to see if Wolffe was anywhere to be seen or if he has already left. When you don’t sense his Force signature nearby, you make your way towards the speeder bike Anakin lent you and bring it to life, trying your best to contain yourself so you wouldn’t be caught by another Jedi nearby. 

You make your way through the streets as quickly as possible, and when you make it to the Temple, you park the bike nearby and think of the best way to make it through the barracks without being seen by any of the Masters…or Commanders. 

It’s not the first time you entered the barracks, and under normal circumstances, it wouldn’t be strange to see a Jedi making their way through the hallways. But it was nearly midnight, and you weren’t sure you could lie your way through a question if you were caught before you made it to Wolffe’s quarters. You’re about to reach out to the Force to see if anyone is awake when you hear footsteps approaching you from behind. The familiarity of its warmness sets your mind at ease, and you take a deep breath before you turn to face him. 

“Commander.”

“General, is there something I can help you with?” He’s putting on a show for the surveillance cameras, and you clear your throat before you tell him something about wanting to review the plans for the next mission. 

“Very well,” he’s curt in his response, and you get the sense that he may be avoidant because he has about as much control around you as you do whenever you so much as hear the mention of his name. 

“Thank you, Commander Wolffe.” He nearly falters in his steps at hearing you call his name, and he swears beneath his breath as a way of warning. You nearly smile at his reaction, but you remember how closely the guards watch the cameras and you choose to switch your attention to the ground. Not another word passes between the two of you, and as you reach his room, you feel your heart threaten to leap out of your chest at the prospect of finally spending a night with him. 

Up until now, the two of you had to make do with stolen moments and short breaks, whether on missions or back here. Neither of you have ever spent the night alone, and you find it fitting that tonight would be it. It’s comforting and nerve-wrecking all at once, and as soon as you step into his quarters, you allow yourself to take in the calm before the storm. 

Before the door slides completely shut, Wolffe is on you like a moth to a flame, nearly ripping your clothes off of your body as he pushes you down onto his bed. 

“W-Wolffe, I-” You try to ask him why he’s so frantic and crazed all of a sudden but he lets go of you and stands to his height, making quick work of his armor in record time all the while keeping you still with the mere look in his eyes. 

“I can’t do slow tonight, can’t wait another fucking second without having you.” You always admired how much care he puts into his armor whenever he’s taking it off or putting it back on, so seeing him drop each pass to the ground sends a zap of lightning down your spine. 

You mirror his actions without another word, throwing your boots and socks away before struggling to take your pants off. Moments later, you feel the bed dip once Wolffe crawls towards you, his muscles flexing in such a menacing way that makes you fall back into the sheets and wait for him to tell you what to do next. 

But then he says nothing, and you’re torn between asking him what he needs from you and letting you do whatever the fuck he wants. He reaches for the edge of your pants and tugs them right down your legs, not once blinking as he violently takes your sweater off and throws it somewhere behind him. You’re left in nothing but your undergarments, and as you twist your arms to take your bra off, Wolffe shoves your thighs apart and makes space for himself in between. 

“I need you, now.” His voice should terrify you, it should be enough of a warning for what he has in store for you. But you find it exhilarating, knowing that only you could get him to lose this much control. You try to reach for him, wanting to feel his skin beneath the tips of your fingers, but Wolffe shakes his head and grabs both of your wrists in one hand, slamming them above your head and tightening the hold he has on them while he slithers his other hand down your nude body. 

“If it were up to me mesh’la, I’d tie you to this fucking bed and have my way with you whenever I want. I’d- kriff, I’d fill you with my cum every minute of every fucking day…so everyone would know you’re mine…so they know that I’m yours.” He teases you through your panties, rubbing lazy circles across the damp spot quickly becoming larger. 

“Wolffe, please…take me.” You whine his name in desperation, hoping he’d finally give you his cock and end your misery. 

“I swear to the maker sweet girl, I’m going to fuck you all night long…kiss every inch of you, mark you with my teeth and hands until you’re my very own altar. I’m going to worship you baby, but only if you promise me one thing.” Wolffe slips his fingers beneath the flimsy material of your panties, rubbing at your clit furiously to get you to focus on him and him only. 

“A-anything…anything Commander.” You turn to the side and kiss his forearm, hoping he’d see how willing you are to do whatever he asks of you. 

“Pray for me.” As you look bite into his skin, Wolffe pushes his hard dick into your cunt, not bothering to give you a moment to get used to being so full before he starts fucking into you with sharp thrusts. You’re screaming his name instantly, arching your back from the sheer amount of pain and pleasure he was bringing upon you so quickly. 

“FUck, there we go…such a good fucking girl for me, screaming my name so sweetly. Go on ner Jetii’ika, tell everyone who fucks you like the perfect cockdumb whore you are.” He leans down and bites the top of your breasts, letting go of your wrists for a brief second so he can rip the last bit of clothing shielding you from his hungry eyes. 

“Wolffe…f-ffuck, oh gods…Wolffe!” You twist your fingers into his bed sheets, crossing your legs behind his back and whining for him when he descends down on you and sucks on your nipple. His hand seeks out your own, and when he intertwines his fingers with yours, he grunts and growls against your skin, reaching for the other breast and groping you harshly until the only thing you can feel is his tongue, and his hands, and his cock wreaking havoc on you. 

Wolffe knows he should slow down, perhaps be a little less demanding with you. But something about seeing you in his bed when everyone else is asleep makes him more possessive, more needy with your body. And it didn’t help how you were reacting to his advances, how completely you surrendered your body to him without so much as a question. He opens his eyes and roams them over your already bruising skin, and when he finds you wanting for more, he increases his pace and fucks you until you couldn’t even breathe out his name. 

You sense his gaze on you, and as you look through heavy-lidded eyes, you find him completely focused on your dazed expression. 

“Wolffe, I- I love you.” You’re not sure what makes you say those words now, but a voice in your heart told you this was the right moment. You’ve spoken before about what this thing between the two of you was, and you knew, as well as he, that this would be it. There would be no one else, not for him, and definitely not for you. 

But you’ve never actually said those words out loud. You’ve said it in the way you kissed him, in the way you gave yourself to him…and Wolffe had pretty much conveyed them to you with every stolen glance and every quick touch he managed to sneak when the two of you passed each other on the General’s ship. 

Like before, Wolffe hasn’t expected to hear you part with such a confession, now of all times. He falters in his pace for a brief moment before he sinks his cock into you and stills completely, wanting to be as close and connected with you as possible when he finally said what he’s felt for you since you introduced yourself to him. 

“Ni kar’tayli gar darasuum…cyare.” You let out a quiet sob at the intimacy of the moment, and Wolffe wraps his arms around your neck and your waist to feel you against every bit of his skin. His thrusts are shallow, barely leaving you empty out of fear of losing this moment. You throw your arms around his neck and bring him flush against you, crying for him one last time as he seals your lips with his own and sinks into your wet cunt. 

The world comes to a halt around you, and all you can feel is Wolffe’s lips claiming your mouth just as he fills you with his seed. You come with him, shaking softly in his arms as his hot cum shoots into you and coats your walls with proof of his need to mark every fucking inch of you. It’s too much and not enough, and you push your heels into his ass in an attempt to bring him even closer to you. It’s not possible, you know that, but you want nothing more than to have him sink into your body until you weren’t sure where he ended and you began. 

Wolffe is fighting for his life, torn between giving you a second to breathe and quite literally stealing your breath to fill his lungs with your essence. He parts for a brief moment and looks at you, kissing your eyes softly before shoving his lips against yours again. You don’t dare ask him to give you a moment of respite, mostly because you’re sure you would miss him if he were to put space between your skin and his lips. 

Suddenly, the world turns around and you break the kiss unintentionally, gasping in surprise when he turns the two of you around until he’s laying on his back and you on top of him. You smile against his jaw when you feel his hands slide down your back and grab at your ass. As he starts moving your hips back and forth, you nuzzle into his neck and breathe in his scent, licking and kissing his skin the more he fucks his cum deep into your cunt. 

“W-Wolffe…”

“I’m not done with you yet, ner kar’ta.” The promise is both teasing and terrifying, but you can’t find it in yourself to hesitate, not when he was promising you the stars all night long. 

And he does, he brings you the heavens until you can no longer breathe without tasting the cosmos on your tongue. With every touch of his fingers, you beg him for more…more of his sweet words, more of his sinful kisses, more of his needy cock.

He fucks you until you lose your voice, and when he’s sure he’s rung your body of every ounce of pleasure it can offer him, he fucks you some more, filling your pussy until you were nothing but a mess, a mixture of his seed and your juices.

And then he pushes you down and parts your thighs to pull you apart with his tongue, and you feel that familiar heat rise in your chest all over again. You tug on his hair, torn between urging him to make you cum again and pleading for him to stop because you could no longer stand the pleasure. You were so sensitive, and Wolffe knew very well how painful the ecstasy was becoming, but some twisted part of him wanted to mark your cunt with his teeth and tongue as well. He wanted to devour you, body and soul. Your release comes in the form of a silent cry, and Wolffe laps up your mixed cum until you can’t take it anymore, softly pushing his shoulders away so he can slow down.

There is a lazy smile on your features, one that deepens further when you see Wolffe crawling on top of you and leaving a trail of wet kisses across your sweaty skin.

“Satisfied?” He dares to ask, lightly pinching your nipples when you don’t respond right away. You giggle at the touch, pulling him closer to you so he can kiss you some more. He melts into your body, roaming his hands across the tired muscles until he has no choice but to fall beside you.

You hum in response, studying his relaxed expression and laying the softest of kisses on his forehead before pulling him into your neck. Neither of you say anything, and only when your breathing steadies does Wolffe pull away to make sure you’re comfortable and asleep.

He sits up on his elbows and takes in his handiwork, biting his lower lip when he sees the bruises already forming all over your body. The contentment falters for a split second, but his worries evaporate when you sleepily reach for him and bring him back into your arms. He mutters his love for you one last time before surrendering to the comfort of your embrace, falling into a deep sleep almost as soon as he rests his cheek on your shoulder. 

It’s hours later when you wake, and you groan tiredly when the sunbeams hit your eyes and make it difficult to escape them. You turn to the other side and peek through your lashes, only to find Wolffe already wide awake, softly touching the length of your arm with his lips and nose, as if he was tracing every little mark he left on your body from last night. He looks up when he notices your breaths coming in erratically, winking at you and smirking at the sudden spirit of shyness falling over your tired form. 

“I can taste the sunlight on your skin.” He moans against your clavicle, lightly nipping at the skin over the bone when you turn away from him and hide beneath the sheets. 

“Hmm…such a smooth talker.” You groan from underneath the shield you’ve created, giggling like a little girl when Wolffe tugs them away and attacks your face with playful nips and kisses. 

“Only for you cyar’ika.” He whispers into your ear before biting at the space just below it, his touches becoming less playful and more needy as he takes in the way your body is reacting to his advances. 

“Wolffe, your lips feel so good.” You throw your head back and sink your nails into the muscles on his back, gasping for air the longer Wolffe continues to mark you up. It’s almost as if he was looking for spots on your skin he hasn’t left his bite marks or fingerprints on. Not that you were complaining. 

“Just my lips, General?” You can hear the smile on his handsome face, and you nearly push back to edge him on, but you realize it would serve you better to give into him and tell him what he wants to hear. 

“N-no, it’s everything you do to me Wolffe. It’s in your touch…your- your voice…your cock.”

“My little Jedi can’t get enough of me.” He shifts you in his arms until you’re laying on your stomach, and when you try to look back to see what he has in mind, he combs his finger into your hair and pushes you into the pillows until he has access to your back. When he hears whine his name, he descends down on you like a crazed man, sinking his teeth into the skin he wasn’t able to reach last night while pulling on your hair to remind you who was in charge. 

“Oh gods…never, Wolffe. Never. I want you all the kriffing time, even now…I just want you to- to,” you forget what you want to say, the need to commit this moment to memory outweighing whatever information your mind wanted to part with. It must be the reaction Wolffe was wanting for because he chuckles against your heated skin and finishes your thought for you. 

“Claim you?”

“Please.” You try to push the sheets away from you so you can feel him against your back, and Wolffe lets go of you for a split second to let you do whatever you wish, returning flush against you once you’re completely nude to his eyes. He’s on you in the blink of an eye, teasing you with the head of his hard cock while keeping a firm hold on your hips so you don’t move against him.

“Can’t really do that now, can I mesh’la?” He struggles through his words, his hungry eyes picturing all the things he still wants to do to you as you lay there beneath him, willingly submitting your entire self to him without a second thought. 

“You’re already mine, little Jedi. You’re mine, have been since you came here all those months ago and told me you wanted me.” He massages your back with his calloused hands, trying to come to terms with the fact that he will never be close enough to you. He’ll never get tired of this. He’ll never not want to touch you with everything he’s got. 

“But since you plead so sweetly,” you moan into the sheets as you feel him part your thighs and slowly sink his cock into your swollen cunt, keeping you filled to the brim and refusing to move until you begged some more. 

“Wolffe...” You reach back and tug on his hair to bring him closer to you, the need to hear what you do to him igniting a flame in your chest, one that only he could put out by showing you how much he craves you. 

“F-ffuck, you’ve ruined the mornings for me cyare. Now I- I won’t stop thinking of your wet, tight pussy when I…kriff, when I wake up.” Wolffe bites into your shoulder as he rolls his hips into you, no longer able to control his desires from you. He wanted you to know the effect you have on him, the hold you had on his very soul ever since you walked onto his ship and offered your aid all those months ago. 

“I’m yours Commander, always. Y-you can have me whenever you want.” You sigh heavily when he growls against your skin and continues to fuck into you without caring for how rough he’s being. 

“E-even at sunrise, General?” Wolffe chuckles as soon as your cunt clenches tightly around him at the mention of the honorific, letting you know that he enjoys calling you by your rank as much as he does when you moan his. 

“Especially at sunrise-” You barely manage to breathe out, smiling through the assault he was bringing on your body as you surrender yourself completely to him.

“My little tracinya,” Wolffe nuzzles into the crook of your neck, content with the way you seem to melt the harder he fills you with his cock. A part of him knows he should maybe discuss the incident from last night, but he finds it difficult to pay any mind to your words when he already has you so willing and wanting beneath him. 

Later, he would consider the little issue of your religion later. 

-----

The pain was overwhelming, a relentless wave pulling him down.

Wolffe drifted between consciousness and darkness, time slipping through his fingers like sand. Minutes? Hours? Days? It no longer mattered.

His body felt heavy as if cast from lead. Every breath was a struggle, a burning stab in his chest.

Had he lost his footing? Had he been hit?

His thoughts were sluggish, sluggish, his mind shrouded in fog.

But then, a shift in the air, a change in the rhythm of his breath, and something inexplicable happened.

A soft glow broke through the darkness, warm and golden, like the first rays of sunlight after a storm.

Wolffe blinked.

His vision was blurred, his head pounded, but there—a hazy and intangible figure stood beside him.

Her.

He couldn’t make out her face, only softly drawn outlines like a play of light in the distance.

Her hair danced gently in the wind, her dress floating almost weightlessly around her. She was beautiful—and yet he couldn’t see her.

Her fingertips, like a gentle breeze, brushed against his forehead. They were miraculous—soothing, like the first rain after a drought.

“You’re hurt.”

Her voice was soft, enveloping him like a familiar melody. But no matter how hard he concentrated, he couldn’t quite make out its tone, as if it were hovering between dream and reality.

He wanted to say something, but his voice was only a hoarse gasp.

A soft laugh came from her, gentle but full of worry.

"You idiot, Wolffe."

Not even the weakness in his body could prevent the corners of his mouth from lifting ever so slightly.

He wasn’t even angry with her.

He could only look at and admire her, that radiant, gentle light that held him when the darkness threatened to swallow him whole.

She knelt beside him, her glow like a warm glow around him.

Her hands glided gently over his body, healing, soothing.

Wolffe could feel it – the heat in his body was gradually fading.

His breathing evened. The pain lessened.

And then there was her scent.

Soft. Gentle. Like wildflowers in the spring breeze.

Not from here. Not from this world of war.

“Stay,” he murmured, his voice rough, barely audible.

She inclined her head, her movements fluid, almost dreamlike.

“I’ll always be here, Wolffe.”

He wanted to believe her.

He yearned to linger in this moment, to never lose her tender touch again.

Her fingers stroked his hand, briefly intertwining with his.

Then she slowly leaned forward, her body a shadow of light and warmth.

Her lips touched his forehead—soft, feather-light as if he were made of glass.

A soft, barely audible whisper accompanied the touch:

“Live, Wolffe.”

Suddenly, he was hit by a wave of pain, a harsh, tearing sensation that tore him from the warmth.

Wolffe sucked in a sharp breath, his heart racing as his eyes shot open.

Silence.

No light. No scent of wildflowers. No gentle touch.

Only the cold, dark reality surrounding him.

He lay alone on the ground, his body aching, but he was alive.

His wounds had healed—not completely, but better.

Not because of her.

Or had they?

His gaze wandered to his hand, his fingers twitching slightly.

He could still feel her.

Still, the gentle sensation of her touch.

He swallowed hard.

Had it been a dream?

Or had she really been there—for that one moment, to bring him back?

Wolffe slowly closed his eyes.

Maybe he would never know.

But he could still feel her.

And that was enough.

End 🧡💤

Wolffe liked to take pictures. He was a very tactile person, and when he’s away on missions he likes having the memories to revisit when he can’t hold you in his arms. When he needed something to keep him going, remind him of what’s waiting for him back on Coruscant, he pulled out the little printed picture he kept tucked in his vambrace–it was of you, of course; smiling at the camera (at him), the sun setting behind you casting you in an angelic glow. Whenever he had a free moment, usually late at night in his tent, he often found himself looking through his collection. At you. 90% of his pictures were of you.

Some of his favorites included one he snuck of you sitting at your vanity, hair pushed to the side and exposing the delicate line of your neck while you clipped an earring on, gaze focused in the mirror; one that Sinker had snapped when you had joined the Wolfpack at 79’s, Wolffe’s arm tossed over your shoulder while you leaned into his side, face scrunched in laughter; one he had taken when you were about to leave your apartment to attend one of the Senate’s benefits, wearing a Wolfpack gray dress that clung to you in all the right ways, your lips painted a pretty red.

Wolffe also had a whole other folder of favorites that he kept encrypted on his personal datapad that were more…explicit in nature. Some were from exchanges between you on your personal comm channel. A few of them he had actual physical copies of, as well–you had an old-fashioned camera that printed photos seconds after they were taken. The camera had gotten a lot of use thanks to him. He liked having the pictures to hold in hand, and it was easy enough to scan them into his comm to have on his holopad as a backup…and neither of you had to find a specialty shop and have the awkward interaction of developing the film. You were a little minx, you liked the camera–and you weren’t opposed to him taking all the photos he wanted of your naked body. There had been many dark, lonely nights when he spilled into his own fist with your name on his tongue while he looked through the pictures.

Nights like this one. He was on some planet in the middle of fucking nowhere on the outer rim because the Generals had received intel that it was being used to host Seppie supplies. They hadn’t found what they were looking for yet, so who knew how long he would be here. The mission could wrap tomorrow, or in three weeks.

Ugh, he was tense. His bucket felt heavy on his neck, his shoulders were sore, and he was tired. Physically tired, not particularly–but mentally he was exhausted. He loved his squad, but he’d much rather be home with you right now.

Home…you were home.

Wolffe started working at the clasps on his armor, starting with the lower half, grunting as he unlatched the pieces of his kit and stacked them neatly next to his cot. He was fortunate enough to be afforded his own tent due to him being a commander, but he still had to be ready to go at a moment’s notice.

He pulled his chestplate off last. Tucked in the inner seam, close to his heart, were the rest of the photos. They had gotten a little beat up and crumpled over time, some corners folded, but they were still clear. Wolffe laid back on his cot, the scrap of material barely passable as a pillow doing nothing to support his back, but he didn’t even notice anymore. He was half-hard already.

The first was a picture of you laying on your stomach, looking back at the camera over your shoulder, naked save for the lacy panties clinging to your hips. It was a great view of your ass, the curves of your hips and butt framed by the delicate lace. His hand was in the shot, pulling your panties to the side to expose your glistening pussy.

You had surprised him with the lingerie set. Seeing you in his colors always made something needy surge up inside of him, and seeing you swathed in delicate lace and chiffon and ribbons accentuating the shape of your body in his colors sent him absolutely wild. Wolffe took his time with you that night, sitting on the edge of your bed and pulling you into his lap. He kissed you, big hands teasing the straps on the garters. You sighed into his mouth, draping your arms over his shoulders and pressing your tits into his chest.

He kissed your cheek, your jaw. Little nips trailed down your throat and you gasped when he started sucking dark marks into your skin. Wolffe always left his mark on you, proved you were his. When he bit down where your neck met your shoulder you gasped, hands tangling in his hair as your head tipped back.

“So pretty. All for me?” he asked, his touch running up your back to skate across the strap of your bra.

“All for you,” you whispered, guiding his hands to the front clasp.

“Let me see you.”

He undid the clasp, and his mouth was back on you the instant it fell away. More bruises and bites littered your breasts, showing his path, and you moaned his name when he licked around your nipple before taking it in his mouth. He continued that way, undressing you piece by piece and exploring every inch of skin revealed to him until you were squirming and soaking through your panties.

He gently guided you off him and onto your bed. You laid on your stomach, wiggling your ass enticingly at him. He gave you a light swat and you giggled.

“Hang on, sweetheart.” Wolffe went over to your dresser, picking up the little camera. “Mind if I take a picture?” You watched him over your shoulder and he saw the way you licked your lips at the thought. It wouldn’t be the first time he had done it, but he asked every time.

“Go ahead,” you said, rising up slightly on your knees so your ass was lifted. “Like this?”

“Hmm, not quite,” he said. He climbed back on the bed, sitting over the back of your thighs. The moan you let out as he ran his fingers over your clothed pussy made his leaking cock twitch in his pants. He circled your clit a few times just to make you squirm. Then he tugged your panties to the side so he could see how you dripped for him.

The camera clicked.

Then he tossed it (gently) aside, and buried his tongue in you til your thighs shook.

Wolffe palmed himself over his pants. He could hear how you moaned, rocking your hips back onto his face as his tongue circled your clit. The sweet tang of your arousal. Fuck, he loved eating you out. He would spend hours between your legs if you would let him, pulling orgasm after orgasm from you until you couldn’t bear to take more.

The next photo was angled down, your thighs spread to make room for his hips as his thick length disappeared into you. Your wetness had soaked to the base of his cock and his thumb was positioned on your clit. The soft skin of your thighs bloomed with little marks and love bites, a trail of red and purple in the wake of where his mouth traced over you.

"Wolffe," you panted, carding your hands through his neatly-cropped hair. "Wolffe, need you–in me. Fuck me, baby, please." The tail end of your 'please' dragged off into a whine as he sucked harshly on your clit one last time.

"Needy little thing," he teased, nipping your thigh again for good measure. You loved his bites, the stinging edge of pleasure-pain he balanced so well. But he followed your wishes. He bit down lightly on your nipple and you arched your back, pressing your chest further into his mouth with a moan.

He sat up, hands going to your hips to keep you in place despite your impatient shifting. Your palms ran down his chest as you whispered, "Please, please–" and he took mercy, guiding the fat head of his cock to your dripping entrance. You tensed up and then relaxed all at once as he began feeding inch-by-inch into you.

"Fucking tight," he groaned, feeling your walls flutter around him. Your thighs trembled as he adjusted, hooking your thigh higher on his hip, the final inch sliding into you. "Good girl, taking all of me." You whimpered at that, clenching down on his cock and pulling a curse from him. You were so sensitive.

"Move, Wolffe, please move–" you babbled. He always gave you what you wanted. His first thrust had you scrambling against him. Your hands twisted in the sheets, palmed your own breasts, scratched down his chest and back; anything to keep you grounded while he was splitting you apart in the best way.

When he angled his next thrust a certain way you gasped so harshly it startled him. He paused, about to ask if he hurt you when your grip shot to his hip, urging him to move, and you begged, "Do that again." His grin was smug.

"Oh," you whimpered at the next thrust. He was hitting something beautiful and bright inside you, pure pleasure sparking from your core to your head to your toes. You arched deliciously against him, brows pulling together in pleasure as he drove you closer to the edge.

His pace stuttered slightly as he leaned over to grab the camera from nearby on the bed. You had already taken some photos earlier in the night, so it had been kept near for the next opportunity.

"You gonna come for me like this?" He asked. He felt the way your pussy flooded with more wetness as he talked–you swore you could get off to his voice alone sometimes. "Let me take a picture of your pretty pussy while I make you cum on my cock?" You nodded frantically, breathing out a high yes, yes, yes– 

Wolffe dropped his thumb to your clit and you nearly wailed. Your pussy spasmed around him, and he just pointed the camera and pressed the button, not even caring if it came out good or not because you were so hot and slick and tight around him, making the prettiest noises as you came, he was right there after you.

Laying together afterwards, you had seen that the photo did come out okay–a little blurry, but good enough to be kept.

You let him take another photo too, this one of your fingers spreading yourself apart so he could see his cum dripping out of your spent pussy.

Wolffe made a noise deep in his chest. Easing himself out of his body glove, he began leisurely stroking his cock. His rough, blaster-calloused hand was nothing like yours, but it would do. His eyes flitted closed as his head tipped back, remembering the way you squirmed as he thrust into you, your wet center gripping his cock. He paused to spit in his hand, and the slickness felt so much better because yeah, you were always so wet for him. Wolffe knew he was a lot–he always made you cum with his mouth or his fingers before he fucked you, the added lubrication of your arousal easing the way. His favorite thing to do was leave you a fucked-out mess and clean you up after to do it all over again.

His breath caught when he looked at the next pictures. These ones he also had a short holovid of, stored on his datapad. The first was you kneeling and looking up at the camera with your pretty doe eyes, tongue peeking out from between your lips as you licked the underside of his cock, hand gripping the base. Your lipstick was smeared and his cock was shiny with your spit.

The second was again of you kneeling and looking up at the camera, this time with your eyes half-lidded and your mouth open, showing his cum on your tongue and streaking your cheeks and dripping down your chin. Out of frame, he knew your hand was between your thighs, working yourself to release at the same time as him.

“Fuck, cyare,” he breathed, hand tangled in your hair. “You feel so good. So good to me.”  He had gotten back from a mission a few hours ago and came straight to your apartment after debriefing. You hadn’t had the patience to get to the bedroom or even the couch, you dropped to your knees right in the entryway and undid his codpiece, tugging the fabric out of the way with deft fingers before your mouth was on his cock.

You pulled off him with an obscene pop as you paused to strip off your shirt and bra, tossing the garments aside carelessly. He groaned at the sight of your tits, your nipples peaked into buds that he wanted to pinch and bite and make you gasp. Then your eager mouth was back on him, the slick muscle of your tongue running along the underside of his cock and teasing the sensitive ridge just under the head.

His hand went to the back of your head as you took the tip in your mouth, not forcing you down, but just to ground him. You sucked lightly and moaned like he was a piece of candy, the vibration an electric jolt straight to his nerves. Your hand wrapped around him, stroking what wasn’t in your mouth.

“Good girl, there you go,” he groaned as you bobbed your head, taking more of him deeper into your mouth, hand continuing to work what you couldn’t fit. His grip in your hair lightly guided your movement, the obscene noise of him sliding into your throat made heat coil in his belly. Your lipstick was ruined, but he liked the way it smeared on his cock and made you look even more debauched. Wolffe swore when he saw your other hand creep down between your thighs to rub tight little circles over your clit.

“Filthy girl, does this get you so wet you just can’t help touching yourself?” He lightly tugged your hair, pulling you off him with a slick noise and you gasped. He still had the rest of his armor on besides the codpiece, so he brought his wrist up and activated the holocamera on his vambrace. “You want me to record you being a desperate little thing, getting off on sucking my cock? I know you like to show off.” You nodded eagerly, still working him slowly with your hand until he activated the recording feature and his grip in your hair relaxed.

You trailed your tongue lightly over him, running it along the underside of his cock, tracing every ridge and vein. It was wet and sloppy, but you knew that drove him crazy. Your hot mouth engulfed the head of his cock again and he made a strangled noise. Breathing through your nose, you relaxed your throat and gradually sank down on him until you had taken him as far as he could go. You paused there, nose pressed into the trimmed curls at his base, until his hand flexed in your hair and he swore softly, then you pulled off just as slowly.

You did that again, and again, encouraging him to start thrusting shallowly. Then you gripped his hips and took him all the way, this time swallowing around him, and Wolffe let out a moan. You released him from your mouth with a gasp. “Shit, sweetheart, you’re gonna make me cum,” he growled, brushing your hair away from your face. “Can I cum on your face, sweet thing?”

“Mm,” you hummed, lapping at his cock while you stroked him with your hand. “Yes please.”

He took himself in hand, stroking quickly as you opened your mouth and extended your tongue and stared into his eyes, nails digging into his hips as you moaned for him and continued rubbing your own clit. His breathing kicked up and he felt that tightening sensation at the base of his spine. Groans spilled from his lips as he came, spurts of his warm release landing on your tongue and cheeks. You held it there for a moment, letting him see his spend on your tongue, before you swallowed and opened your mouth again to show it was gone. He cursed, out of breath, and you smiled coyly at him as you swiped a finger through the mess on your cheek before sucking it clean as well.

He already wanted you again. Wolffe lifted you from the floor and straight into his arms and you laughed, planting a kiss on his lips as he carried you to your bedroom.

Wolffe gritted his teeth, squeezing his cock as he stroked, trying to mimic the way you felt around him. Seeing you covered in his cum made him go a little stupid. He couldn’t help it, he wanted to mark you, claim you as his and make sure no one else ever dared to try and take you from him. He felt that familiar coil in his belly, his balls drawing up as he skirted the edge of release. Fuck, he could imagine you in front of him, begging for it, wanting him…. A few more strokes, twisting his wrist as his hand engulfed the head of his cock, and Wolffe hissed out your name as he spilled into his fist. The hot pulse of orgasm he felt all the way to his toes, and with it all the tension drained out of his body.

Wolffe laid there until his breathing evened out. He wiped his hand clean on an old rag and tossed it to the side before rolling over to replace the pictures safely in the nook in his chestplate. The last picture was a little goofy, but he loved it all the same–it was of the both of you laying in bed together. Your skin was dewy with sweat and you were curled into his side, head resting on his shoulder, hair a mess from when he had his hands in it. You grinned at the camera, makeup streaked and smeared. Wolffe was looking down at you with incredible fondness rarely seen on his face, and the lower half of his face glistened with your release. He didn’t know why you took the photo, but it reminded him of his favorite thing: the tender time after sex, before you cleaned up, when you simply laid together, breathing and feeling and taking each other in.