One of his favorite things to do in private is for you to feel his muscles. Arms, chest, back, whatever it is he adores it. It boosts his ego and makes him feel special. He loves when you dote on how strong he is, it really gets him going. If you're muscular in places he will hype you up and tell you how strong you are. Feeling your muscles and pushing down on them he smirks. "Woah look atchu! So much muscle now (Y/n)!"
When he is in depth in a plan or thought, he comes to you for support and suggestions. When it's battle plans, he likes hearing your thoughts about it and will usually take your advice. He can't help but notice when you drop everything to help him. When it's NOT battle plans he likes to talk about life. He's not a big fan of the past but he will philosophize with you. He's quite the intellectual despite his exterior.
The man is a sucker for you when you take charge of literally anything. He likes it when you challenge his ideas or know something he doesn't. He would never admit it but he likes when you teach him something new. "Give it here, I'll show you." Wolffe rolls his eyes handing over the weapon. "There isn't a weapon I couldn't use." He states as a 'matter of fact. ' You chuckle. "Watch." A smirk crept on your face and you use the weapon with incredible accuracy. Wolffe's eyes widen. A blush is pushed onto his face, "yeah whatever, lucky shot."
Wolffe isn't exactly an empathetic person he's a tough love kinda guy. If you say anything bad about yourself he literally doesn't understand why because when he sees you, you're perfect. He genuinely gets confused and tries to tell you that your statements make no sense and are inaccurate. He will nag you until you think otherwise, if it's a real problem for you he's gonna catch on, he's smart.
If you are forcing yourself to stay awake especially for his sake he will put you to bed. Forcefully if he must. He cares so much and when you're healthy you're happy, that's all he wants for you. He sometimes neglects his health like sleeping for you, he will always provide for you first. He is selfless. "Wolffe! I'm fine." Wolffe sighs, you wanna play? Let's play." His gruff voice and dangerous eyes burning through you. He lunges and grabs you, hoisting you in his arms. Wolffe happily smirks at his victory.
OMFG STRUT YOUR STUFF. HE WILL EAT THAT SHIT UP. He loves when you're confident in yourself it makes him crazy, like bro is barking.
When you're stubborn he's all over you he can't stand it when you challenge him or don't do what you're told he kinda enjoys it but he won't tell you that.
You can't peck him on the lips without him pulling you back and embracing in a passionate kiss, living in war is always risky, one day it's possible he won't come back. He needs to make sure you know he loves you every time him or you leaves.
When you work up a sweat whether just existing or doing something physically he loses it. Just the smell of you makes him wanna grab and make out with you. ESPECIALLY if it's sparing with him.
Wolffe is always grateful when you give him stuff but no matter how expensive or cool it is nothing beats the experiences you guys have together. He will remember those forever and they mean so much to him.
He has developed this habit of grabbing your cheek and pinching it. He doesn't do it hard but it's a way for him to say 'I love you' without saying it in front of the other men. He gets a little embarrassed sometimes, he's got to maintain his tough guy image.
At first he was self conscious about his scar, it brings him bad memories but he always plays it off that he doesn't care but it still haunts him sometimes. When you two were close enough to feel comfortable with touching each other, the first place you felt was his scar. He knew he wasn't 'pretty' but you didn't care. He felt the softness of his scar and he felt something he hadn't in a very long time. Security. But when you kissed his scar all the way down his face, he just about lost it. He felt your care and compassion through your kisses and he never wanted it to stop.
Whenever you're passionate he's passionate. He might not show it very well but the way he looks at you says it all. The slight smirk in his face, like it's going to turn into a smile. The scrunch of his eyes shows you happiness. The same goes for when you're fired up because of something, he LOVES when you speak your mind, get a little cocky or sarcastic.
You're a student at Coruscant U. The boys of the 501st are guest speakers for a class on galactic politics. But one particular ARC trooper gets more than he bargains for when he starts checking you out...
My first time attempting anything close to smut, hope y'all enjoy! Lmk if it's good enough that you'd want a continuation ;)
This also may be partially inspired by a dream i had oops
Words: 1.9k
Warnings: eye-fucking, teasing, showing off, making out, hints of both dom reader and dom Fives, suggestive ending
Rating: 18+ (minors DNI please)
Credit for the Fives divider to @freesia-writes with helmet art by @lornaka !
You have to stifle a yawn as you settle into your desk, stretching out heavy limbs. Your last lecture after a long day of classes. Galactic Relations and Conflict wasn’t really relevant to your major- you’d picked the elective on a whim, but it had proven to be your most interesting class this semester by far. Today promised to be no different: your lecturer had pulled some strings and arranged for some pretty interesting guest speakers.
You hear them before you see them: boisterous laughter echoing down the hallways. Then, the boys in blue file through the door. The one in front corrals the others into order as they come to stand at attention at the back of the hall. Five in total- two ARC troopers, two lieutenants and their Commanding Officer. Armour proudly polished where it isn’t scuffed or dented, painted helmets slung under their arms. Two things hit you in quick succession as your eyes cross the five identical faces. One: these clones are nothing like the carbon copies you’ve seen on your holoscreen. As alike as they look under their haircuts and tattoos, they’re individuals, plain as day, from how they style themselves to the way they stand and speak. Two: one of them is looking your way.
There’s a cool confidence in his demeanour, an effortless assurance to his movements, and he’s not at all embarrassed to be caught looking: though he’s still in conversation with the others, his eyes don’t waver from yours for a moment. It gives you ample time to take in the view, and what a view it is. The angle of his brow highlights the tattoo at his temple, and from there you follow the sharp cut of his jaw down to the well-kept goatee at his chin, up to the inviting curve of his mouth. Solid, square shoulders shift when he laughs at something another clone says. There’s a stray curl falling over his forehead you want to tangle in your fingers. You fight the urge to bite your lip as your eyes venture lower, sweeping down a broad, thick chest to his deliberately cocked hip. You force yourself to look away. Can’t be caught ogling the trooper, like the self-proclaimed “bucket fuckers” you see on your social media feed, lining up at 79s every weekend. You’re not that desperate. Subconsciously, though, you realise you’ve straightened in your seat, pulled your shoulders back. You’re even toying with your hair.
You cringe internally, chastising yourself for looking so eager. Calm down, you think, it probably doesn’t even mean anything that he’s looking. The lecture isn’t due to start for another ten minutes, and among the smattering of early students, you’re the only one in the front row. He’s just getting a look at his audience. But when you chance another look up at the ARC trooper, you find his gaze still locked onto you, even as the clone beside him continues to speak. Cockiness is a trait you usually find irritating. But much to your dismay, instead of scoffing when he arches his brow and quirks his mouth in your direction, you feel your pulse quicken and your skin heat.
He winks, and your mind is made up in an instant, caution thrown to the wind. It’s been too long since you’ve taken a break from your studies and had this kind of fun. If he wants to play the game, you’ll play. And you’re not going down without a fight.
You bring your eyes back down to your desk and pretend to be deeply focused on laying out your datapad for taking notes. Hot as blaster fire, his gaze still burns on you, but you refuse to give in. You’re no stranger to this dance, and you’ve gotten pretty good at it, even if you do say so yourself. Your lecturer enters soon after and begins the talk, introducing your guests. You get your first taste of the ARC trooper’s deep, gravelly voice when he steps forward in turn, as well as his name. Fives. It loops in your mind as you wrap your lips around it, trying it out. As Captain Rex takes the podium, you make your first move. Slowly, deliberately, you cross one leg over the other, and lean your elbows on your desk, shoulders pulled proudly back. The stars must have aligned for you this morning: you’d picked one of your lower cut shirts, and it frames your cleavage perfectly. A few carefully counted seconds later, you tilt your head away from the podium back to Fives.
Oh, yeah. You’ve got him.
He’s looking. He’s staring. His gaze has darkened, intensified. When his eyes roam down low and creep back up, you feel it like it’s his fingers on your skin. Your body warms under the stare, liquid heat pouring over you, pooling at the top of your thighs. Not wanting to seem too self-satisfied, you allow yourself a small, restrained smirk. A twitch of your eyebrow, just to gloat. Such a small gesture, but it lights a fire in Fives’ eyes. You’re enjoying the game, but you want to stretch it out, so you leave him hanging, and go back to listening to Captain Rex, your stylus working across your datapad, dutifully taking notes like you’d been paying attention the whole time.
You don’t let up on Fives, though. As his brothers each take their turn to answer questions from the cohort, you pull out every trick up your sleeve. Mussing your hair, adjusting your top. You swear you see his upper lip twitch into a growl when you shift your legs, gliding one foot up and down your calf. He has his arms folded now, the end of a thumb jammed into his mouth, chewing on the tip in a way that makes you hungry to replace that thumb with your lips. He makes no attempt to hide his want: he’s undressing you with his eyes, and you’re quickly getting drunk on the power. The killing blow comes when Fives has to wrench his attention from you long enough to take his turn at the stand. You can see him struggling to keep his focus on the rest of the lecture hall and away from you. At first, you feign innocence, letting up the act for a few short minutes, playing nice, giving him a reprieve. And in truth, it’s not hard to actually stop and listen to his words: he speaks with confidence, cracks a few corny but endearing jokes, and answers the audience’s questions with a thoughtfulness and insight that catches you off guard. Shit, you think, swallowing down the flutter in your chest, he might have the edge on you.
But in the end, he will get no mercy from you. The third time he gives in and glances in your direction, he finds you with your stylus poised at the corner of your mouth. Your pulse throbbing, you grind your thighs together, making a show of it. Your tongue darts out for just a moment and, soft and delicate, you press the stylus past your lips, teasing the tip. The effect is instant. Fives chokes on his last word, stifling a groan that quickly turns into a string of coughs. His eyes are blown wide, his cheeks several shades darker as he tries to regain his composure and remember what he had been saying.
You win.
You back off for the rest of the lecture, content to enjoy the feeling of his eyes on you and the playful glances you exchange from the moment he leaves the podium. He takes your little trick in stride, and even gives back what he gets, a sway in his hips as he walks back to rejoin the other clones, taking it slow to give you ample time to enjoy the view from behind. All too quickly, though, the talk ends, and so does your fun. You shoot Fives one last wink as he and his brothers leave the hall, and he fixes you with a cutting smile that’s equal parts charming and dangerous. You gather your things and leave with the other students, with full intention of returning to your apartment to take care of the ache between your legs alone. The memory of Fives’ gaze lingers on your skin, drawing an involuntary shudder.
The train home is going to be torture.
But you don’t make it to the station. You don’t even make it off campus. You’re rounding the corner away from the lecture hall when you hear him. He clears his throat, and your nerves thrill when you turn to see Fives leaning heavy against the wall, one hand propped on the inviting curve of his hip. The pathway he stands in is seldom-used, small and quiet, and the shadows from the towering buildings throw his face into shadow. His voice is pitched low when he speaks, thick and sweet, dripping like syrup.
“Quite a show you just put on,” he purrs, and the words go straight to your cunt. “What’s your name, gorgeous?” You give him your answer, careful to keep your voice in check while the rest of you quivers with anticipation. Fives repeats it, the sound rolling heavily off his tongue.
“Thought this gig was going to be boring,” he muses, “you certainly proved me wrong. Thought it would only be polite to return the favour. Show my… appreciation?”
The curling grin on your face is all the answer he needs: a thick hand on your waist pulls you into the alleyway, cold brick at your back and hot breath on your neck. You’re trapped in an instant, bracketed by his arms on either side. His lips hover an agonising inch from your skin, sparks of honey-sweet electricity dancing along your shoulders and down your spine.
His body is still angled away from yours, yet the tiny, twitching roll of his hips draws an answering thrust from you all the same. The lack of friction tears a tiny groan of frustration from your throat before you can stop it, and Fives’ chest rumbles with his answering chuckle. The end of your rope dangles so close. It would be so easy to just give in and let him win. Your defences weaken further when the warmth against your throat sharpens, searing breath giving way to the scorching wet heat of his lips at the top of your jaw. The dizzying thrill of finally feeling him against you is what gives you the strength to regain control. A firm hand at his cheek shifts his mouth away from your ear and onto your lips, kissing him hard and merciless. He moans when your fingers dip low to scratch teasingly through his goatee, and the sound sets your every nerve singing symphonies. In an instant you know you’d do anything to hear that sound again, to feel the high of him melting under your touch. With dwindling patience you reach out, grabbing at the belt of his armour and trying to pull him flush against you. He resists, breaking your kiss just barely and tutting against your lips.
“No need to rush, mesh’la,” he taunts, settling a warm, gloved hand on the swell of your hip. He’s firm but gentle, coaxing you back into the wall with just enough pressure to tease you. You recognise the Mando’a, though you can’t quite place its meaning. You find you don’t much care- not when Fives is kneading at your waist and mouthing at your collarbone.
“We’ve got plenty of time Besides…” With one fluid movement, he forces your legs apart, pressing one thick thigh between your own. It's your turn to moan, trying to shift your hips, though Fives' grip keeps you maddeningly still. ”You gave me a whole lot of grief back there. I’ve got a lot of catching up to do.”
You swallow thickly, the shifting column of your throat catching against Fives’ teeth and making you gasp. This one might be harder to win than you thought. A devilish grin slides onto your lips.
Hi, I was the one who requested the smut prompt with Hunter. Sorry, I just saw all your posts… I was inactive today.
Can the reader be female? If you’ve already picked out something else, then that’s ok too. Have a pleasant day :)
Hiiii my lovely!
I hope I have captured Hunter in the correct way as I’ve not wrote him before. I was going to write more but I’m still not feeling too good and my brain is rot rn😭
But anyway I hope you enjoy this Hunter smut💁🏻♀️🫠🥵
The smooth sounds from the Marauders engines hum vibrating in your chest, the streaky distortion from the centralized bright glow shine in your eyes as you and Hunter travel through Hyper Space.
You secretly thank the maker Cid had introduced you all those months ago back at her Parlour, however it’s made things that more tricky. Your feelings for Hunter grew more as each day passed, the worry that weighed heavy on your shoulders, the painful ache in your heart wondering if he would return back from these missions was starting to take its toll. Yet you don’t dare admit to these feelings.
“Credits for your thoughts mesh’la?” His rich voice snapped you out of it and back to reality.
His focus on you is utterly mesmerising, his brown locks fall against his signature bandana, one brow raised awaiting your reply. His heightened senses very aware of the other feeling niggling away within you.
Lust.
“I uh sorry Sergeant nothing. Not long till we are due back I take it?” You stutter out shuffling in your seat. The tingle in your core growing.
“We have enough time mesh’la” his voice low, dark.
His eyes meet with yours, the unrestrained desire lingering has your mocha skin blushing the colour of your devil red lips.
Hunter gestures you over to him, unsure of what possessed him, but the urge to have you has overwhelmed him. His mind working overtime so desperate to feel your touch, to inhale your sweet scent. To make you his.
For a brief moment you stand next to him, unsure of your next move , he seizes your arms pulling you down on him with such force your cunt brushes against his codpiece, you chew on your bottom lip a very feeble attempt to stifle your soft moans. You watch as he removes his codpiece placing it to the floor of the ship delicately. The bulge under his blacks evident. Ready to burst out.
Hunter cocks his head to the side slightly letting a small chuckle. Your heart skips a beat. He can hear it loud and so fucking clear. He can see the nerves painted across your pretty face.
“You nervous?”
“Don’t be”
Your face leans in closing the gap between you both. You brush your fingertips gently across the tattoos on his face, a shiver runs through his body and he starts to push up into you. The heat radiates off him igniting the burning between your thighs.
A brazen confidence over takes you and slowly your movements match his. His fingers curl possessively into your hips dragging you up and down his crotch, your nails scrape at this scalp pulling his hair.
“Tell me mesh’la is this what you want?” He whispers into your neck as his tongue trails upto your pulse point.
Your whimpers are his yes. You move and position yourself with your back to him. Leaning your head back so you watch his reaction as you begin to unbutton your blouse discarding it to the floor leaving your torso completely bare. You hear him sucking in a deep breath behind you. His senses completely loose touch with any rational thought. The smell of your arousal, the way your skin glistening, the twitching of your cunt against him.
“If I have to pull over, you’ll be walking funny for the next week” you can hear lust lacing each word.
“We are in hyperspace so you can’t technically pull over” you chuckle pressing your ass further into him.
He grabs your thighs pushing you up and rips the clothing from your lower body off with little effort. He pushes you against the control panel spreading your legs. You feel his nose drag up in the inside of your thigh stopping as he reaches your wet pussy.
“Fuck- you smell so good” he rasps and sinks his teeth into the delicate flesh of your ass.
You gasp out in surprise gripping at the panel. His thumbs part your slit as he runs a flat wet tongue up and down achingly slow. The heat pools in your lower stomach , goosebumps break out littering your skin. Your hips move in sync with his tongue but you need more. He switches from fucking your cunt with his tongue to curling his fingers inside of you poking that spongy point sending your whole body into a blissful shock.
A deep primal growl left Hunters lips as your slick covered his tongue and lips. Your inner thighs damp from your juices. He devoured you from behind like a famished man. Your cunt fluttered , your clit swelled but you needed more so much more. Hunter understands this wordless demand and he stops. A low chuckle rumbles in his chest.
“You need to be fucked don’t you mesh’la?”
He gives you no time to respond before he fully sheaths inside of you, the stinging pain surges through you ultimately overtaken by the pure pleasure his thick cock provides. A furious pounding begins, he has lost control. The need to fuck you to stretch you to have you surrender to him has commandeered him.
Your breathing intensified, his thrusts harsh, vehement. All of his senses were completely ablaze, he was at the core of you and it was the only thing he needed. He won’t stop he can’t stop , his only focus is your pleasure.
“Oh Hunter- ohh fuck more please “ you beg and pant.
Long harsh strokes of his cock splitting you open his hands grabbing onto your thighs, filthy praises and clammy skin smacking against skin had you teetering on the edge so close to your cunt ready to coat him in your release.
“Look at what you fucking do to me Mesh’la” his raspy groans have that coil inside you threatening to snap.
Hunter continues his relentless pounding , grazing his lips down the back of your neck , a fistful of your hair entangled in his fingers he pulls your head taught so your looking back at him before licking a long stripe back up your spine to your shoulders blades. Shivers tickle your body, your cunt begins to convulse around his quivering cock.
You gaps and moan loudly, your grip so firm on the control panels they could crack any moment. You begin pushing your hips back to meet his trying to control his viscous assault on your swollen pussy.
“Oh fuck Hunter you make me want to reach for the stars” you can barley muster this sentence out as more moans fall from your mouth.
His thrusts become more erratic, you can feel as his body trembles against yours. He pulls you up flush against him and takes your breasts in his large calloused hands, rolling and rubbing your nipples between his rough fingers as his thrusts continue fucking up into you. Your breasts bounce in his hands , his hair falls into your face and you scream his name.
The coil finally snaps. Your body betrays you and you cum violently for him.
A beautiful mist blurs your vision, your eyes roll back in and you lean your head in the crook of his neck, his warm seed coats your walls. A ravishing euphoria washes over you and Hunter alike, your bodies falling limp against each as you continue grinding on his cock milking him for every last drop.
“You’ve been a good girl haven’t you” he breathes into your ear planting open mouth kisses across your neck and jawline.
Hunter sits back down in his seat keeping a firm hold on you, his cock softening inside of you but he is unable to let you go. A spell he does not want to break.
“Made good on that promise didn’t you Sergeant” you chuckle leaning back into him as you both look upon the twinkling lights of Hyper Space.
I love your work and I want your opinion on something.
If their s/o requested them to send a dick pic, which clones would:
A. Immediately pull their pants down and send a pic
B. Wait until they can get the best, most sexy shot, and then send a pic
C. Be too embarrassed/shy to send a pic
I'm just curious about your thoughts 😏
LOL. Lookin for thots this evening, are we? ;)
always happy to deliver
I feel like I always forget clones in these lists, so please forgive me if I've missed a favorite, and feel free to reblog with your own two cents! There are some that I don't know well enough, so you clone specialists can absolutely fill in the gaps! Let's get started!
First up... the Immediate Deliverers:
Jesse. Immediately. And he will be so proud.
Gregor. Because he doesn't take much anything seriously. Life's too short for that.
Hardcase. Because he doesn't have a bad angle.
Wolffe. I just get a vibe.
Wrecker. With a gleeful smile and a bellowing laugh. No reason needed.
Crosshair. Surprised me, but I think he would be like "fuck it, this is what it is and you'll like it no matter what." XD
Next, the Strategic Senders:
Fives. It probably won't be a long wait at all, but he knows the difference a slight change in lighting can make.
Kix. He would never admit it, but he's got the dick-pic down to an art with as much intricacy as his closely-shaved haircut. And that's not the only thing that's closely-shaved, because, well, he's aware of how to make visual illusions work to his advantage.
Tup. He actually surprised me here because I initially put him on the no-list. But I think this shy lil shiny has a sultry confidence that can come out in the right conditions.
Pre-Citadel Echo. You might send the request thinking he'd refuse, but then you'd receive a spicy surprise.
Howzer. Another surprise! But I can see him doing it in a very established relationship, except he would probably have to make it lighthearted somehow. Like, putting a tiny hat on it or something absolutely hilariously ridiculous like that.
Hunterrrrr. (I'm back on my shit with this man) and I'm pretty sure he would know precisely how to make it look just... drool-worthy. I'm drooling in starbucks right now just writing about it. XD
And finally, the Embarrassed Evaders:
REX. Sweet man just wouldn't know what to do. Even in an established relationship, I think he'd prefer you to see it in person.
Cody? I'm not sure about this because I'm not super familiar with him. But he seems like another straight-laced sweetie that MIGHT do it with someone he really trusts, but only with some liquid courage.
TBB Echo. I think he's got body image trauma as deep as the Mariana Trench. I just can't see him taking a pic that wouldn't have him making one of my favorite faces, aptly captured by @starqueensthings in this fun lil post.
Tech. I thought about this one for a long time. I don't think he's opposed to it on principle, I think his reasoning would be this: "While I am aware of the potential for arousal via images of such a nature, I find it more satisfying for both partners to engage in a more verbal exchange leading up to an intimate encounter." And he would be SO DAMN GOOD AT IT because the man knows words and would get that dialed in so quickly that you'd be humping your phone on your way to his place.
Eep. That got away from me a little.
Oh well, you asked for it. ;)
xoxoxoxo
I LOVE these fun random asks! ALWAYS feel free to drop em in! And I think I know who you are and I love you. ;)
Tag List? Please let me know if you actually RECEIVE the tag?
They push each other’s buttons, and tend to disagree on very stupid things
But ultimately respect and admire each other
Somewhere down the line they become make out buddies, and can often be found sucking face or dick in supply closets/ empty conference rooms
But every time they try to sneak away for some actual alone time together be it for sex or just to enjoy each other’s company— there always seems to be a crisis that needs one or both of your attention
Finally! The two of you get shore leave. Ditch your coms and get a (kinda nice!) hotel room
You’re kissin’ and cuddlin’, things are heating up— but when he goes to take off the top half of his fatigues you’re shocked
“I didn’t know you had tattoos!”
He’s got a full sleeve on the left arm
He’s always in full uniform, how would you know? But still!
Later after you have been together for awhile and he’s caught a bad case of the feelings
This man is WHIPPED
The Wolfpack has a little time off and a lot of them are going to visit one of the tattoo parlors on Coruscant that will serve the clone troopers
Wolffe had already been planning to add on to his sleeve and expand it into a chest piece, but now he’s got something really special he wants done
He brings in a holopic of you and talks to the tattoo artist, he wants a partial portrait of you. Mostly just your eye the way it looks in the holopic. Gleaming in the natural light, bright, lively and full of love. The other half of your face obstructed by your favorite flower
Synopsis: After a risky mission, Jedi Master Plo Koon decides to hire a full time medic aboard his ship.
Genre: tiny angst with fluff n’ spice
Word Count: 1.1k
Warnings: Small description of burn injury, protruding veins (if you like that stuff), character in pain
A/N: 1st Wolffe writing!! This was fun to write, I did my best but what do you think? Writing under the cut!
“I’d like to introduce you to our new medic, they will be staying with us until further notice.” General Plo Koon states, sticking a hand out ushering you from the darkness. You cower behind the Jedi, smiling gently giving a small wave to the crew. “Glad to be working with you guys.” Is all you manage as all the clones eyes on you makes you shrink. Some clones smile or wave back but one gets your attention. He stands apart from everyone else, up front and arms crossed. Your eyes meet his gaze, you quickly take notice of his cybernetic right eye. Your eyes fall from his as your face begins to flush pink. Plo Koon places a gentle hand on your shoulder, making you stand up straight. This is going to be awkward. This will be your first time living with a lot of people in such a closed area, but you were going to make it work.
About 2 months later…
“Ah Kriff!” Wolffe curses, rushing to you, hand resting just under his rib cage on his side. Your eyes widen as you hurry to remove things from your stretcher. He slams down sitting upright onto it. “What happened?” You shuffle to get your medical supplies, placing it down next to Wolffe. “Damn clanker! Got me just in time.” Wolffe’s gruff voice echoed through the room. “Where’s everyone else?” You fumble your gauze as you speak. “Safe, only I got hit.” He gritted through his teeth. “I need to remove your chest armor and blacks.” You stutter. Wolffe nods, helping you remove it, along with shimming out of the top half on his blacks. He takes a sharp inhales through his teeth as you peel the fabric closer to his wound. A hole present from the droid's shot. You pull them down, relieving the wound in full. Scanning Wolffe's wound, a sigh of relief washes over you. “It’s only a graze, just some burn care and disinfecting.” He scowls. “Still hurts like hell.” A small smile grazes your face, relieved he still has his usual attitude.
You turn away to grab the disinfecting liquid from a nearby cabinet. You drip some of the liquid onto a gauze pad and move your hand to his wound. You gently dab the gauze onto his burn. He grunts, squeezing the edges of the stretcher. You notice the veins on his arm protruding, and his muscles tense as he grasps at the metal. The blood rushes to your cheeks as your face gets hot. Your eyes quickly return to his wound. Removing the gauze, you get up once more to grab the burn cream. Taking a small metal scoop, you coat the burn with the cream. The commander looks down at you taking a heavy inhale. The burning and slightly cold sensation of the scoop and cream makes him cringe. “Does that feel better?” You ask hesitantly. “I guess, not the first time I’ve been shot.” His face flat as he looks to his burn.
“Any more concerns doc?” You open your mouth as if to speak but quickly you close it. “What?” Wolffe responds. The question burning through you, ever since you saw him. “Your eye, what happened to it?” He looks down. “Ventress.” He scowls at the name. A small “o” appears on your face. “I’m sorry.” Is all you can manage. You walk closer sitting beside Wolffe on the stretcher. You slowly lift your hand to his chiseled face. He cautiously watches you but doesn’t stop you. Your hands meet his skin, you take your finger tracing his scar. Wolffe watches as you gently trace over his face. A small grin emerges from his mouth. After tracing his scar, you move your hand to his cheek, feeling his cheekbones and rubbing your thumb over it. Wolffe softly takes your hand and places it on his thigh. “It’s ok, it’s been a while.”
You smile admiring him. You’ve never been this close to your commander. You can’t help but take in the image of him. You’ve never seen his bare body before, his chest toned and coated with a shine of sweat. His tan skin enhances his features so handsomely. You feel your face turn extra warm as you shift your eyes to his. Wolffe smirks as he takes notice of you admiring his form, a glare in his fake eye. “Like what you’re seein’?” He speaks, his voice smooth and flirtatiously. “Ah yeahh.” Is all you can manage, words stuck in your throat. Trying to shake the image from your thoughts. “You’re getting really red in the face (y/n).” Wolffe’s voice was low, he was just teasing you now. His smirk plastered proudly upon his face. “So what?” You defensively say, crossing your arms. “Admit it, mesh’la.” The word rolls off his tongue, lingering in the air. The word sends a shiver down your spine, you know what it means. “You’re starting something.” Your eyebrow raises. “Your eyes say it all.” Wolffe stands up from the stretcher, a small wince escaping his lips.
His figure towers over you, your heartbeat speeds up and your breaths become short and hot. Wolffe leans over you, locking you in his arms, hands pressed firmly on the stretcher just barely touching your thighs. You bite your lip in anticipation, your thighs pressed firmly against each other. “Commander…” Embarrassed, you look away. “Look at me mesh’la.” Wolffe says soft but his words are firm. Your eyes slowly meet his, your cheeks warm. The commander brings his face closer to yours lips, almost touching. “I’ve always liked you (y/n).” His eyes burn into yours, he glances to your lips. You had no words, the feeling overwhelming you. “So sweet, a little shy, a little feisty.” Wolffe’s hot breath sweeps across your already burning face. He leans in a little closer and your lips meet. Your eyes close and his rough lips meet your soft ones. Your heart is sent a flutter and all you can hear is your own heartbeat. The feeling so warm and exciting, the feeling of his lips leaves yours as he pulls away after a moment. A small frown tugs at the corner of your lips.
The commander's arms are still holding you still on the stretcher. The sound of the door opening has Wolffe quick on his feet releasing you as he stands up straight, clearing his throat. In return you stand up scrambling to gather your medical supplies. “How is the commander (y/n)?” Plo Koon's voice is deep and sweet. “All good sir!” Wolffe is quick to respond. His response is followed by your nod. “It's just a skim.” Plo nods, satisfied with your answer. “Commander, you're needed in the cockpit.” The Jedi speaks flatly. Wolffe nods quickly whispering in your ear. “We’ll finish this later mesh’la.” His breath skims your ear making you jump a little. You nod your head but Wolffe is already leaving. Plo Koon’s eyebrow raises slightly. You send Plo an awkward lopsided grin. Plo nods his head, removing himself from the room. A small smile forces its way upon the Jedi’s face, as he leaves.
