Curate, connect, and discover
for @ireadwithmyears <3
summary: having to distance yourself from wolffe after a slip up is a lot harder than you thought it would be
tags/warnings: 18+ for suggestive stuff, angst! with a happy(ish?) ending, forbidden relationship, love confessions, kinda idiots in love, wolffe is down bad and not sorry about it, reader is lowkey delirious and v emotional bc of lack of sleep, allusions to sex but otherwise sfw
song: on your side — the last dinner party
prompts: #21 "when's the last time you actually slept?", #9 "come lie with me, let me hold you."
a/n: okay it's official, wolffe is my fav clone to write for. um, idk if anyone else has ever been so exhausted but not able to fall asleep to the point where you’re literally distraught? I hope this is not a unique experience otherwise this fic makes no sense lol
event masterlist / star wars masterlist / join my taglist / wc: 3.1k
request period for this event is over, dialogue prompt is in bold :)
You messed up. Big time.
The memory of your misdeeds still replayed in your mind, days, weeks later. Your mind lingered on how his rough hands felt against your skin, how his breath mingled with yours, bodies melding together. His words haunted you, adulations whispered in a tone you’d never heard, sentiments you wouldn’t soon forget, no matter how you tried to.
Wolffe had invaded your brain even before you'd fallen into bed with him, but now it was inescapable.
You'd known it was a mistake as it was happening, that stepping over the line would do something irreversible, something you couldn't follow up on. The guilt of doing that to Wolffe, of letting him believe it was something that could be, was eating you alive. If you didn't feel so strongly for him then all of this would be so much easier, and could be written off as a simple blunder — but nothing about this was simple.
Wolffe had been shipped into an active warzone only hours later, and though worry pulled at your heart more than ever, you couldn't help but be partly relieved. When he’d returned, you felt even more conflicted.
He had caught your eyes from across the hangar, something distinctly timid and unlike him in the way he looked at you, and you had to tear your gaze away and leave the space. You couldn’t be anywhere near him. It hurt too much. You knew he’d noticed that you were avoiding him, it would be impossible given how close you were before everything had transpired, but he obviously had the restraint not to mention it.
Sleep was eluding you because of it. Pulling away from Wolffe felt like a physical pain, like the connection you had unwittingly created through the force was being sawed at, and you could feel every ridge of the knife as it cut. If anything, it was proof that you had become too close, that your connection ran too deep.
Now, duty demanded you be in the same room as him, and it was every bit as excruciating as you had expected. You were stood beside him in the command centre, and while your eyes were plastered to Plo Koon, all of your attention was taken by Wolffe.
You could feel the heavy weight of his gaze on you as you spoke, almost feel his breath against your cheek, the warmth of his body beside you. His presence was intoxicating, and even when you closed your eyes you weren’t free of it. His unique presence in the force reached out for you, and while you knew he wasn’t doing it intentionally, you wished he would stop. The familiar feeling made it so much harder not to fall into his arms and forget everything that held you back; a warm blanket, a comforting steadiness, deep red in colour, like the very last sight of the sun against the horizon.
You escaped as soon as you could, scampering from the command room at the first opportunity, but it seemed that Wolffe was done with the silent treatment. He grabbed your arm as you made it out into the corridor, dragging you into a quieter corner of the ship, a hall that ran to a dead end. His gaze was serious when you finally met it with your own, and it turned your stomach. You didn’t know if he was angry or hurt, nothing was given away in his demeanour.
Finally he spoke in a low voice, “are you alright?”
You blinked up at him, wondering how he could be so concerned by you at this moment. His hand still gripped your arm gently, his eyes darting between yours, brows furrowed. He took in your features like he’d never seen you before, and the scrutiny made your gaze drop.
“I’m fine” you murmured, trying to keep your voice even.
“You weren’t in your room last night”
Your eyes raised back to him as your heart skipped a beat, “how do you know that?”
“I went to see you” he confessed, never wavering in his serious gaze.
“Wolffe…” you sighed, looking up at him with a pained expression, “you shouldn’t have done that”
He huffed, stepping into your space, “why not?”
You exhaled slowly, “you know why”
Something in him stiffened, and he took his hand away from you, “what were you doing?”
“I just… I couldn’t sleep” you admitted, running a hand over your face.
“Why not?”
You sighed at his persistence, “it doesn’t matter”
“It matters to me” he muttered, his eyes flashing with hurt. He tentatively brought his hand up to your cheek, running his thumb under your eye. You knew you must look exhausted, and closed your eyes to let the feeling calm you. “When's the last time you actually slept?”
“I don’t know” you spoke quietly, almost ashamedly. Your eyes fluttered open to see the stern look he was giving you.
“Sarad’ika” he whispered the name he called you in only the most quiet of moments, drawing closer so his forehead almost touched yours. “If you won’t…” he sighed, “if you won’t let me take care of you then you need to take care of yourself”
Your heart seized up in your chest. “I—” you didn't know what to say, everything was running through your mind but it was all getting caught in your throat.
Your stuttering was interrupted by the sound footsteps reverberating off of the walls of the otherwise empty hall. Wolffe backed away from you, though he still started at you intently, even as someone walked between the two of you. Unlike him, it snapped you out of it.
“I— I uh… I'm going to my quarters now” you mumbled out, tongue tripping over your words.
You turned quickly, stalking down the hall in wide strides and not daring to look back.
It was the middle of the night and still, sleep wouldn’t take you. The frustration was getting on top of you again, and you paced back and forth in the small space of the ship that was yours. Hot tears sprang to your eyes, wetting your cheeks, and your hands gripped at your hair as if it would alleviate the tension in your head. You had been silently crying long enough that your head had begun to ache, and you silently begged to gods you didn’t believe in to let you sleep, to shut your mind of for just a few minutes so you might finally slip into unconsciousness.
It had been coming to this every night, where you felt as if you were being driven insane because sleep eluded you.
With a small sob, you darted for the door. A distraction, that’s what you needed now. You might wander the halls of the ship as you had in previous nights, or hole up in a cupboard somewhere so you could cry until all your tears were spent. You grabbed your robe as you went, clutching the thick material in a tight fist, but as the door zipped open you almost collided with something, someone.
Wolffe stood tall in the doorway, his hand raised as if he were about to knock. He took in your distressed state, eyes widening at the recognition of tears staining your face, and he reached out to you on instinct, taking ahold of your arms.
“Hey, it’s okay. You’re okay” he immediately began to soothe you in a voice that was too soft for him. It only made your breathing more unstable, and you choked on your sobs. Wolffe backed you into the dark room and closed the door behind him, “what’s going on?”
The confusion — the worry — it was so plain in his eyes. It made you feel sick to your stomach. You dropped your robe to the floor.
“I just—“ your words were halted by your own sob, and you hid your face in your palms, “I’m so tired, Wolffe”
His hands wrapped around your wrists, his skin warm against yours, and he peeled your hands away from your face. He snaked his arms around your waist without another word, offering the relief you would never ask for but so desperately needed. You took it unashamedly, burying your face in his chest, letting yourself relish in the comfort of his touch. As your weeping continued, he held you tightly, one hand on the back of your head to stroke your hair as he whispered comforting words.
The exhaustion had clearly got to you. There was simply no other reason for this display of raw emotion.
As your breathing calmed, the storm in your mind subsiding to a grey fog, Wolffe’s grip loosened. He pulled back and took your face in his hand, and you couldn’t help but lean into its warmth just a little.
“Now,” he spoke quietly, “are you going to tell me why you can’t sleep?”
You sighed deeply as you averted your gaze, “do I have to?”
“No” he replied, “but it could help”
Your eyes creeped across his handsome features, taking in every mark, every freckle. You couldn’t burden him with everything that clouded your mind, you wouldn’t place another weight upon his shoulders when the war already saw him stretched so thin.
You shook your head, releasing yourself from his grasp and turning away, “it won’t help, it’ll only make things worse”
“Stop shutting me out” Wolffe’s voice was stern as he spoke up, and you looked up to find his brow furrowed deeply, the hurt evident in his eyes and the downturn of his lips.
“I have to” you said quietly, almost a whisper.
“No you don’t” Wolffe huffed, moving to crowd you against the table behind you, “I don’t understand why you’ve been acting like this, why you won’t look at me all of a sudden. I thought—”
He stopped himself. In all honesty, you hadn’t been thinking an awful lot about what Wolffe may be thinking about what had transpired, and as much as you knew you should bury the whole incident, move on and forget, a part of you needed to know. What he thought, what he was thinking now, what he felt. You shouldn’t ask, but you couldn’t stop yourself.
“Thought what?”
You could see that he regretted letting the words slip. “I thought things would be…” he trailed off for a moment, searching your eyes with a hint of desperation, “I don’t know, I just thought it’d be different from this, after—“
His teeth ground together. A quiet curse escaped him as he hung his head in defeat. He knew as well as you that this conversation would only breed more unease. You swallowed, taking a moment to centre yourself.
“We can’t be like that” you muttered.
You knew it was cruel, that he didn’t deserve to hear it put so bluntly, nor did he deserve what had already happened. You had been cruel, consistently, in entertaining this idea of the two of you, and even crueller in making him believe it could be. That was why this was necessary. It couldn’t go on.
He was quiet for a long moment, and when he spoke, it was uncharacteristically timid, his words almost shy.
“Would it be so bad?” he asked.
“Yes! Well, no it— but we can’t, I mean— I don’t know!” you could feel your breath becoming short again, and Wolffe placed his hands on your shoulders.
“Hey, breathe” he spoke softly.
You didn’t deserve him, that was clear to you now. He was too gentle, too good to you when you didn’t deserve it. Your breath steadied under his touch, and you couldn’t face pushing him off this time.
“This is what’s got you worked up?” he asked, and you nodded in reply. His face softened, and he raised a hand to your cheek. “Ner cyare” he whispered, “please don’t trouble yourself over me”
“I can’t help it Wolffe, I—”
I love you
You could so easily say it, and you would mean it, but putting it out into the world would go beyond crossing the line.
“I’m sorry, that I’ve been pulling away, but I can’t— I can’t do this” you insisted, gesturing vaguely between the two of you, unable to name exactly what it was.
“Why not?”
It was a simple question, but the answer was far more complicated. Wolffe gave you nothing but patience as he waited for the reply. His gaze was soft, as soft as it got with him at least, though any amount of tenderness that could be drawn from the man would be considered a feat. It was part of the reason that you struggled to answer him. It was simply too distracting, witnessing the depth of his feelings for you first hand.
When the two of you had slipped up, spent the night with limbs entangled in the cot just a few short steps from you now, it had somehow not occurred to you that Wolffe was in just as deep as you. He had shown his admiration in more ways than one; whispers against your lips and skin, tender touches and a sense of care in every endeavour. In the throws of pleasure it hadn’t registered as anything but that — seeking pleasure.
Now you weren’t sure.
“Because…” you began, barely uttering the word.
There were reasonings you could use, but none would present themselves as you looked into his eyes and were confronted with the depth of your own feelings.
“Because…?” he prompted, and you couldn’t help but sigh.
“Because nothing” you frowned, “because I’m a fool, and because you don’t deserve the only kind of relationship I could give you”
Wolffe matched your frown, “what’s that supposed to mean?”
“Think about it Wolffe, I’m… I’m a Jedi, right? You know what that means?”
He pressed his lips to a hard line, unimpressed at the reminder “I know what it means”
You exhaled shakily, and a sadness washed over you, “I couldn’t… I could only be yours in private, I wouldn’t be able to touch you in front of others, to hold your hand or even smile at you for too long. I wouldn’t be able to show the galaxy how much I love you, and that hurts me”
A second passed, and you realised what had been said.
It was as if an airlock had been opened, and all the air sucked from the room. The both of you stood perfectly still, staring at each other with widened eyes. You had crossed the line. It was all hypothetical up until now. But now, it was real. Neither of you moved, or breathed, until Wolffe let a quick and heavy exhale slip, as if in disbelief.
“Love?”
You swallowed thickly.
“I—“ you bit the inside of your cheek as your cheeks burned hot, “I didn’t mean to… tell you like this”
“Is it true?” he asked, deadly serious. His eyes searched yours, for what you didn’t know, but you knew the answer was already obvious in the way you dropped your gaze guiltily, as if the very act of falling in love were wrong.
“Yes” the whisper had barely left you when Wolffe surged forwards and met your lips with his.
He was warm, inviting, eager. He kissed you like a man starved, as if he’d been waiting a lifetime for this moment, and you let yourself give in. You kissed him back more insistently, and let his tongue pass the seam of your lips as he begged for entrance. His arms wrapped around you, holding you to him tightly, as if he was scared you might slip from beneath his fingertips. This feeling was becoming too known to you, too comfortable. It felt too right.
He pulled away, placing his forehead on yours with intention, “I love you, ner sarad’ika”
Your breath was knocked from you upon hearing the words, and you couldn’t help the way your mouth stretched into a tentative grin. You advanced forwards and pressed a more chaste kiss to his lips, and felt him smile back against you. Something about it set your heart fluttering more than anything before. Wolffe still held you, a hand flat against your back to keep you close, where the other held your jaw.
He ran his thumb over your bottom lip as he regarded you, speaking softly, “you have such a pretty smile”
A heat crept up your neck even now, after everything that had happened. Though soon, it began to transform in its meaning. Your smile faded, tears collecting in your waterline once more, and the heat burned at your collar uncomfortably. You didn’t cry as you had before, but the tears fell freely all the same.
Wolffe sighed, wiping them away with a disapproving shake of his head, “I said not to trouble yourself over me”
Your lips twisted with doubt, “you deserve so much more than this, Wolffe”
“It’s not about what I deserve” he reasoned, “it’s what I want”
“But I can’t give you anything”
“I don’t need anything”
You deflated with a huff, “it’s a lot more complicated than you’re making it out to be”
“I disagree” he mused, pressing a kiss to each cheek to collect the remnants of your tears, “I love you, and for maker knows why, you love me. I think that is all that’s important”
You pressed your lips together to stop them from shaking as you felt yourself welling up again, but Wolffe was all too quick to swoop in.
“We’ll figure it out” he promised, “together”
Looking up at him through teary eyes, you found your lips twitching upwards, “together”
The word was a comfort. Neither of you would have to navigate the struggle in isolation, you would support each other.
Wolffe nodded against you, and took your hands in his. You only realised now how they were shaking, and he pressed his forehead into yours with more purpose, peering deeply into your eyes as if he were looking upon your very soul.
“Come lie with me, let me hold you”
Your brow pinched, and you nodded your head in reply. He tugged you over to your cot gently and laid you down in the soft sheets, then stripped himself of his armour to lay beside you.
No more words were exchanged that night, for everything had already been said. His body was warm against yours, and though it didn’t magically lull you to sleep immediately, it was an undeniable comfort. Wolffe fell into unconsciousness before you did, his arms still wrapped tightly around you. Watching him rest calmed your mind. It gave you faith that any hardship the two of you faced going forward would be worth it. He was worth it.
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