Customer Service Wolf.

25 Days of Life Day: Day 7 - Life Day Light Display with Echo

Warnings: Fluff

WC: 1.4K

A/N: I’m pretty sure this is the longest one I’ve written so far lol. I just really love this man 😭💚❤️💚

“GAH!” You mess with your hair one last time before deciding this is as good as it’s going to get.

Echo had finally asked you on a date after years of longing and stolen glances, so you were trying to look just right for him. It just felt like you were never going to reach a contentment with how you appear. Everything felt… too much or not enough. How were you supposed to dress for a date with someone you’ve been in love with for nearly ten years?

“What’s wrong?” Omega appears in the doorway of your fresher.

Since you’d all settled down aside from the occasional job, Cid allowed the guys to turn the upstairs of her bar into an apartment that you all lived in.

“Oh, nothing.” You lie, putting on a smile.

Omega rolls her eyes, clearly not believing you. “Is this about your date with Echo?”

“You know about that?” You ask, putting all your makeup back into your bag.

She sits on the edge of the tub, watching you with a smirk. “You do realize I’m not a little kid anymore, right?”

You chuckle and smile at the girl that you’ve known for five years now. Of course she wasn’t a little kid anymore. Her teenage years were arriving and she probably knew more about life stuff than you realized. You try to be there for her when she asks questions, whether it be about girl stuff or boys or really anything she needs. She’s like the little sister you never had.

“I’d go with the blue dress, by the way. Echo’s favorite color is blue.” She walks back into your room to grab your blue dress from the closet and brings it back to you. “And your hair looks good. Stop messing with it.”

You kiss her on the head with a grateful smile. “When did you get so wise?”

“Learned from the best.” She grins. “Have fun tonight!”

She walks out of your room, closing the door behind her so you can get ready. You quickly pull off your robe to put the dress on and go and do one last onceover before walking over to Echo’s room across the hall. With one last deep breath, you knock on the door a couple of times.

When Echo opens the door, you’re met with a wide smile and the kindest eyes you’ve ever seen. Immediately, your heart goes soft like it always does when you see him. He’s wearing a blue collared, button up and khakis and you just know that Omega had something to do with his outfit.

“Wow… you look beautiful…” Echo looks you up and down, struggling for words. “I mean, you always look beautiful. But wow…”

Warmness creeps into your face at the compliment. “Thank you. You look great, too.”

“You ready to go?” He offers his flesh arm and you nod, taking it.

“Have fun you two.” Hunter calls from the living room.

“But not too much fun!” Wrecker calls from the kitchen.

Echo rolls his eyes as he opens the front door so you two can leave. You can’t help but laugh. The support of all the Batchers means everything to you. You spent so much time worrying about whether or not they’d allow it or support it.

“They’re too much.” Echo shakes his head.

“Yeah, but they mean well.” You squeeze your hand over his as you lean into him while you walk toward wherever it is that Echo planned your date.

You walk in comfortable silence for a bit until you realize you’re headed to the park. The sun has finally set and you’re able to notice the Life Day light displays throughout the park.

“Oh wow!” You grin eagerly.

“You like it?” Echo walks toward a vendor stand selling hot cocoa and caf.

“I love it. I’ve never seen lights like this.” You tell him, unable to look away from all the lights.

“How many?” The vendor asks.

“Just one.” Echo holds up a finger.

You give him a curious look. “You don’t want one?”

“I thought it’d be more romantic if we shared? Unless you’re worried about germs?” He teases as he pays the vendor.

“I don’t mind your germs.” You laugh, rolling your eyes.

Echo chuckles and hands you the cup of cocoa and takes your hand. Looking down between you at your hands, you squeeze his hand and then look back up at him. Your hands fit together perfectly. He smiles down at you as if you’re somehow more to look at than the beautiful lights.

Echo leads you down the path where a tunnel of soft white lights starts you out. You look up at the arch and then through it at the lights at the end of it. Somehow in the last five years, you’d never seen this Life Day light display.

“My mother used to take me to Life Day light displays when I was a kid…” You tell Echo, handing him the cocoa. “She used to work a lot… but she always made time during the Life Day season to do fun things like this.”

Echo gives you a soft smile, encouraging you to continue as he takes a drink. He’s always been so patient with you.

“I always think of her during Life Day… It was easy to forget about during the war…” You tell him as he hands you back the cup. “But since the end of the war… It's like, I don’t want to forget anymore… I love celebrating with Omega, giving her the things that I had as a child… I love celebrating with you.”

You near the end of the light tunnel and are able to see all the light displays even clearer now. It really is beautiful and you couldn’t be more glad that this is where Echo took you for your first date.

“I love celebrating with you, too.” Echo admits. “I didn’t have things like this before… so it’s nice. Makes me feel like a regular person.”

“Well, you are now.” You grin.

“I suppose you’re right.” He nods like he’s remembering he’s no longer a soldier.

You look up toward the archway of lights, noticing the mistletoe and stop Echo. When he gives you a confused look, you point up.

“Oh-” He becomes flustered.

“If you don’t want-” You start to apologize, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, and start walking.

“Wait.” He grabs your hand and pulls you back toward him.

He grins down at you, wrapping his scomp arm around your lower back to pull you near and cups your face. It makes you happy knowing that he doesn’t mind touching you with it. You remember years back when the thought of you even touching it wasn’t an option. He’s come so far.

You both have.

“I’ve been wanting to do this every year for the last five years.” He chuckles.

He leans in toward you and you meet him halfway, eagerly. His lips are as soft as the first time you kissed a couple weeks ago and he tastes like the peppermint cocoa you’ve been drinking. It’s enough to make you a little dizzy, going warm and fuzzy all over. When he pulls away, he takes his time opening his eyes.

“Have I mentioned how much I love doing that?” He asks, softly.

“Have I mentioned how much I love you doing that as well?” You reach up to kiss him again.

“Photo?” A man with a camera comes up to ask you.

“Please.” Echo hands the man a credit and takes the cup of cocoa, sitting it down out of the way so he can pull you into his arms, dipping you as he kisses you.

The man snaps the photo and when Echo doesn’t pull away from you immediately, the man waits a moment before clearing his throat, awkwardly.

“Oh. Sorry.” Echo pulls you back up and takes the photo from the man, grinning down at it before showing you. “You look absolutely beautiful. I’ll never get over how lucky I am.”

“Stop.” You go warm in the face and take the photo from him to look at it.

The lights all around you shine around the two of you so perfectly and Echo is smiling into the kiss as you cup his cheek. It’s definitely going by your bedside when you get home.

“Let’s go look at some lights.” Echo hands you the drink from the ground again and takes your hand, kissing it before continuing down the path.

You’re pretty sure that your future with this man is even more bright than all of these lights combined.

TAGS: @grievouus @brynhildrmimi @madameminor @dumfanting @rain-on-kamino @misogirl828 @rexandechosandwich @corona-one @tecker @ladykatakuri @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @twistedstitcher27 @zoeykallus @maulslittlemeowmeow @littlemousedroid @arctrooper69 @rexxdjarin @agenteliix @padawancat97 @hated-by-me

Tech singing “I need a hero” when drunk 😌

Hunter and Crosshair drunk dueting Livin’ La Vida Loca.

All boys need a shower scene 🥴🥴🥴

I saw this one on Twitter the night season 2 was released; and I laughed so hard that people told me to go to sleep 🧍🏽‍♀️

It’s too funny 😂

Saw this on Facebook 😂

How dare Horde Prime touch Hordak like that!

This will just be a rant of the She-Ra Princesses of Powers Season 4 (regarding Hordak and Entrapta)

Horde Prime knows that there is a person that captivated his “little brother’s” heart. I don’t specifically know if he could see Entrapta in Hordak’s mind or just Hordaks feelings. If he did see Entrapta, then there is a chance that he will attempt to keep Entrapta away from Hordak or have Hordak kill her. 

Regarding Hordak’s “reconditioning”, I am so scared!! I have been an #entraptdak since season 2 and I want them to be happy. Either Catra has the LUVD stone or the rebel alliance finds it. If Catra has it and Horde Prime removes Hordak’s armor, then there is a possibility Hordak won’t retrieve his stone. If the rebel alliance has it, Entrapta would know that Hordak needs it to have a good body. Which leads her to potentially creating a new armor for him and goes with the princess alliance to find Queen Glimmer.

After his conditioning, he most likely will be a clone that follows his leader. It is up to Catra or Queen Glimmer to try to tell him about his former (independent) self. 

This was so beautiful 🥹🥹💕💕

Fondness

Pairings: Clone Trooper Veteran Tai (from Kenobi) x f!Reader

Warnings: Tai has PTSD flashbacks, mutual pining, awkward tension

Notes: I think this chapter will be a much better one just because I finally watched TCW. Shout out to Rex, who got way more mentions than I had planned but that's okay because I love him.

In all his years, after all the shit he's been through, he never imagined anything quite like this. He never imagined kindness quite like this. But then again, Tai had never met anyone like you before either. This realization doesn't keep his head from spinning, though, because now he's in your space, standing awkwardly in the entrance to the shithole you and a hundred other people call home. White walls stained beige with age, a floor that creaks every time you shift or step, windows that allow a disheartening view of the neighboring building and little else. It's crummy and probably falling apart, but it's better than anything he's had in at least seven years. He's not complaining.

"Sorry for the mess," you say a little shyly as you start bustling about the place, picking up trash and discarded clothes and wholly avoiding his eyes. "I don't really have people over."

Better than the dumpster I've been sleeping under, he wants to say. But that would be rude. And he knows you're trying to be polite, trying to put your best foot forward, and he appreciates it. And you. Definitely you.

"I don't have an extra room or a bed or anything, but I have a couch. And lots of blankets and pillows." You're going through a cupboard in the hall now. "I can turn the air on. Or the heat. I dunno what you prefer, but we can make it work." And something grabs Tai by the heart and refuses to let go because there's that 'we' again. The one that makes his chest feel tight. "Whatever you need to be comfortable."

He blinks and you're standing in front of him, eyes big and wide and shining in the sliver of light coming over his shoulder from the window. The two of you are caught for a moment in the gentle electricity humming between you. It's cautious and unsure, a little reserved and a little exciting, like you shouldn't be opening up your home to him and he shouldn't have accepted, like he shouldn't even be here. It registers vaguely in the back of the head that he's probably right. You don't know him, not really, and he doesn't really know you, no matter how much he pretends he does. And he's old enough now to be finding gray in his beard and at his temples. So what the hell is he doing here, what is he doing with you, the sweetest thing he's ever encountered? He feels like a creep.

But all of that passes when you smile. It wipes his mind clean. You turn to drop the sheets on the arm of the sofa, start unfolding them and throwing them over the cushions.

"I can-"

"I got it," you counter before he can even stop you. "I don't mind. You can make yourself at home, Tai. Get a drink, take a shower, whatever you want."

It takes him more breaths than he'd care to admit for his brain to catch up to his ears and his heart. He's so kriffing nervous here, taking up precious space in your home, tracking the grime of the city into your floor, and he knows that this is a gift that can be taken back. He's earned this privilege and he can lose it in a blink. So he decides to let you do this for him, just this once, if only to give himself some space and time to clear his head.

The bathroom is fucking tiny. The walls are crowding in on him before he even closes the door. The mirror is dirty with water spatters and steam streaks, the counter a little dusty in the corners, but you're everywhere in here - from the vase and fake flowers to the spread of cutely labeled products and the carpeted mat under his feet. Which reminds him to take his shoes off, which then prompts him to shuck off his armor and let his body breathe.

The man staring back at him in the mirror is both familiar and a stranger. He remembers that jawline looking sharper at one point, his skin smoother and firmer, but he also remembers the day he got the scar on his chin. He remembers the last day he saw Rex, remembers a string of images that make him want to pluck his eyes out just to quiet the way padawan blood screamed at him from the ground, remembers the day the Empire replaced him with a faceless, unfeeling Stormtrooper, remembers the first time he held out his helmet and begged for scraps. And before he even realizes it, he's stepping into the shower and basking in the shivering cold of the water. Maybe it'll wash away the black marks on his soul he's earned over the years. He can hope, at least.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

Tai feels more levelheaded when he gets out of the shower. He doesn't look at the mirror. He does, however, notice a slip of paper half stuck to the floor with the residual steam and his heart does a weird little flip when he reads it. There is indeed a stack of clothes and a crate for his armor just outside the door. He can tell with just a look that the sweatpants won't fit him, but the shirt, a striped and faded mess of cotton wearing thin at the bottom seam, fits well enough and he makes a point of not noticing how it smells like you.

The sofa is made up like a bed in a palace, or as close as you can manage. The sheets are threadbare but soft, lightly scented with citrus, and he swears there's half a dozen pillows piled up in the corner. You've left out a glass of water and lit a candle, too.

He doesn't let himself cry until he double checks that you are in your room with your door closed. How has he deserved this? He's fallen so far. He was once a proud soldier of the Republic. Now the Republic is dead and so are most of his brothers. He doesn't even know if there are any left. What would they say if they could see him now, living on the streets of an empty, soulless planet, huddled in some civilian's apartment like a rat? It's embarrassing, shameful. Rex would have his head for this, surely- except... Except he knows that's not quite true. He knows that Rex, soldier though he was, would never have judged him. Rex would have tried to help him.

He looks down the hallway where a sliver of light shines out from beneath your door and he almost dares to smile. Rex would have liked you, he thinks.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

One night turns into two. You're not used to having anyone in your space quite like this, certainly not a man, so it's awkward. You keep having to remind yourself not to leave your more feminine products out in the open where it might startle him. And even though you have no reason to believe Tai would ever be in your room, you make sure to hide your personal effects in there too. Just in case. Best not to give him the wrong idea. But it's okay, it works, the two of you.

Two nights turn into a week. Tai's efforts to leave the following morning are growing weaker every day and your requests for him to stay become more and more persuasive. You know it would be best for him to go, more logical, safer even. But you feel safer having him around.

And maybe, just maybe some selfish part of you wishes he would never have to leave. You choose not to delve into the reason why.

A week becomes a month and you come home from work one evening to find Tai passed out on the sofa, snoring away as usual. It sucks that your schedules are so opposite with him heading off to work right after you get home, but sometimes it's not so bad. Sometimes you come home early and you get to see him like this. The stress and age and trauma doesn't weigh so heavily on his face when he sleeps.

You're grabbing a drink when you notice the pile of credits dropped onto the kitchen counter. It's not very much, but it's also not yours. Your eyes flicker in Tai's direction. Is this his monthly pay? Being a janitor in a dankhole like this place ought to pay more. He also needs a better place to put his money than on the counter, he'll end up losing some that way. You briefly wonder if he needs a wallet and if maybe you should get him one before you snap yourself out of it.

He's a grown man, you tell yourself, he can get his own damn wallet. You're not his mother. And if you'd been caught saying that out loud you might have sounded furious, but the only anger you can feel is directed solely at yourself. Because you're letting yourself fall too deep and too fast for a man who is still a stranger in many ways.

You shake your head and take your things with you into your room, careful to close the door as quietly as you can manage. You don't want to wake him, but you also don't want to face him. Not now. Not with the too many thoughts buzzing around in your brain. Not when you're realizing just how much you think you might love him.

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

" 's for you, y'know," he gruffs the following afternoon.

You look up from the stove, over your shoulder, and frown. "Huh?"

He nods his head at the pile of credits that still haven't moved. "For rent."

The galaxy spins around you for a moment. He took money out of his probably terribly paying job to help you with rent? Seriously?

You stumble over your own mouth while your brain plays catch up. "Tai... You didn't have to do that."

He shrugs and doesn't look at you. "Figured I used enough hot water to warrant a bill."

His smile is faint, but you can still see the outline of it. You wish he'd smile more. He looks so pretty when he smiles. And then you wonder what he thinks of your smile, if he even thinks of it at all. Does Tai think of you the way you think of him?

"Saw an apartment opening up downtown." His voice slices through your thoughts violently enough to completely shatter them. Your entire body feels like it's been dunked in ice water. "Thought I might have a look."

He wants to leave? Ice cold panic grips you by the base of your spine as you start cataloging through the last few days, trying to find any moment, any second glance that he could have interpreted wrongly. Because why else would he want to leave when you've tried so hard to make your home welcoming to him?

"Don't want to overstay my welcome."

And your anxiety calms a hair. Okay, so maybe you were jumping to conclusions for a second there.

You rest your hip against the cupboard. "You could never. You haven't." You glance back at your food as if it'll protect you from your own heart. "You can... You can stay here as long as you want to, Tai. Or as short as you want. Whatever you want. But you'll never wear out your welcome."

Well, that's about as close to a confession as you can safely get. Not that you were trying to confess anything, not that you have anything to confess. Even though you know that's a kriffing lie.

The kitchen goes stale with your shared silence. The wheels in Tai's head are turning so fiercely that you can hear them working. You're sure he can hear your heartbeat by now. Thank the Maker he can't hear your thoughts. And then-

"There's a bar by the market. I think it's called Spice. Have you ever been?"

You blink through your confusion. "I don't think so."

You blink again and suddenly Tai is standing, coming around to your side of the kitchen until he's all you can see. There's that blaster shot right through your chest again because he's closer now than he's been the past month. He smells faintly like your shampoo and his own natural musk and dank farrik, that's just not fair.

"Come with me tonight? Do you have work?"

"No. Yes. I mean-." You're so breathless, you can't get your words out in the right order. You laugh and have to turn your head to avoid the intensity of his gaze in order to focus. "I mean, no, I don't have work, yes, I'd love to go with you."

٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠ ¤ ٠

It's strange to be handing over credits in exchange for liquor. The GAR never paid their troopers and neither did the Empire, so the only alcohol he ever got his hands on was the free crap 79's handed out. Not that this place offers anything better, but this time he can actually pay for it with credits he's earned himself. And he can buy some for you, too.

The speakers are playing some upbeat, young person tune he's never heard before and the lights are flashing 50 different shades of neon across your face. It hurts his eyes a little and it's another reminder that he's not the young clone he once was and this isn't 79's. He's not on Coruscant anymore, Fives isn't chatting up some attractive civvy just around the corner, Jesse and Tup aren't hurling their guts out in the bathroom, Rex isn't nursing a drink in a corner booth. It's just him. In a dive bar on Daiyu. He's a janitor. He's homeless. And you're here with him, brightening up the space around you with just a smile and that tipsy twinkle in your eyes. It hurts, but it's manageable. Entirely because of you.

You down your third drink of the night with a giggle and a burp, turning on your bar stool so you're facing him properly with your knees splayed. They frame his legs just right. Tai pretends this one simple movement doesn't light a raging fire in the pit of his stomach. He tells himself it's the alcohol sending heat through his veins. Definitely not because you're fluttering your eyelashes at him. Because he's not the young man he used to be. He's a dirty old man. He's lucky just to be allowed to bask in your presence. He's lucky you haven't figured out he has it bad for you and that you haven't kicked him out as a result. You're just drunk, he tells himself. He's drunk too. That's all it is.

That's all it is until it's suddenly so much more. "Come on!" you exclaim with a smile that could hang the stars in the sky. You're tugging him out onto the dance floor, you're holding his hands, you're kriffing touching him like it's the most normal thing you could be doing. And Maker, he'd go anywhere you asked, do anything you wanted if you looked at him like that. "Dance with me!" you shout over the music, shuffling yourself even closer to make sure he can hear you.

He's shaking his head like an idiot, arms withdrawn and poised mid-air. "No, I can't-"

"Dance with me, Tai." You look up at him through your lashes and smile a smile he doesn't think he's ever seen on you. "I want to dance with you."

He swallows. Hard. "You're drunk."

"So?"

"So." Quick, trooper, think of something! "You wouldn't be asking me if you were sober."

"That's just 'cause I'm shy," you laugh and your hand runs up his arm to his shoulder. A shudder runs through him at your touch. "I wouldn't ask you if I was sober, but I'd still want to. So dance with me."

Your hand presses against his cheek right where his scruff is growing in and his eyes slip shut for the briefest of moments. He's not at 79's, he's not young anymore, but for this one moment he can pretend that doesn't matter. He can pretend that this night is everything he wants it to be. So he takes you in his arms like he's the confident young trooper he was so many years ago and he dances with you to music he's never heard before. And he lets himself love you, even if just for the night.

🥵 fantastic!

Desk Job

Pairing: Commander Wolffe x Reader Word Count: 1.8K Rating: Explicit (18+ Only) Summary: You and Wolffe do ... work ... in your office. A/N: Idea for this taken from parts I edited out of One Moment More so you know it's going to be filthy lol.

It’s not always easy for you to relinquish control. Wolffe knows this. He’s an expert at watching you on the battle field, during training sessions, at mission debriefs with the Jedi Council when you demand to be heard, demand to know the ins and outs of every situation if only so you can make sure that if something goes wrong, it won’t be due to something you missed.

It’s not always easy for you to relinquish control, but in private moments like this — with you bent over in front of him, arms grasping for traction that doesn’t exist on the too slippery surface of your freshly polished office desk, Wolffe makes it his mission to unravel you.

“That feel good, mesh’la?” he whispers in your ear after he pulls you flush against his chest, finally taking pity on your scrambling arms.

The movement pushes him deeper into the tight warmth of your pussy and you nod frantically against the side of his face, a moan trapped under the hand he has clasped over your mouth. 

Wolffe hides a smirk in the crook of your neck as he feels silent whimpers beg to leave your lips. If the two of you were anywhere else — the 104th barracks, a star cruiser, anywhere that wasn’t your office in the GAR compound — Wolffe wouldn’t have his hand even near your mouth except to make sure your face stayed trained on him as he made you scream his name until your voice went raw.

Here, though, surrounded by walls that were shared with other offices, other people who couldn’t know about this, whispers are all that’s allowed. 

Wolffe can handle that, just barely, but you can’t, not without some help. He’s always more than willing to oblige, but sometimes, like now, there’s nothing he loves more than testing just how far he can push.

It’s a bit too easy for you to quiet your moans when turned away from him. When not forced to look down and see what he can always see: you, taking him, pulling him in over and over and drenching him in your juices. It’s a sight Wolffe never tires of, and, right now, he’s in a sharing mood.

With no warning, he pulls out of you, and if it wasn’t for his hand covering your mouth, your whines would no doubt pierce the durasteel walls. To be fair, Wolffe’s not much better off himself. The loss of your warm cunt hugging his aching length is a shock and he has to bite his tongue, the inside of his cheek, his lips to stop from moaning himself.

Quickly, he replaces his cock with his fingers, filling you up again but not quite as heavily as before. Slowly, he feels you calm down. Feels your breathing fall back into a regulated pant. Feels your heartbeat maintain a steady rhythm.

It’s then he removes his hand from your mouth.

When you turn your head, panic once again in your eyes, he arches a brow.

“I need you to stay quiet for me, love,” he whispers, locking his gaze firmly with the depths of yours. “Think you can do that?”

He traces the bob in your throat as you swallow with a thumb, runs his hand down your chest, down your stomach to your waist, waiting for you to respond. 

You give him a small but determined nod and he doesn’t waste a second more in turning you around to face him, fingers still massaging your cunt and twisting with the movement, gripping your waist tighter, and lifting you until you’re sitting on the edge of the desk. The edge of your desk.

You stare at him, lashes fluttering frantically against your cheeks, mouth moving, words not forming. But he doesn’t need to hear you to know what you want to say. He takes a step closer and your legs widen in response, spreading to welcome him in-between, rising to circle his hips. He scissors the two fingers inside you, spreading and stroking, and you suck in a gasp — all air, no noise.

He nods approvingly. “Good girl, just like that.”

He feels you immediately tighten around him at his words and his smile widens.

“You like it when I call you that, hm?”

You glare at him but nod, reach one of your hands up to grasp at his shoulder when he twists his fingers again and he closes his eyes briefly at your touch. When he opens them, he stares down at you for just a moment. Lets himself take in the sight of you wrapped around his fingers. The sight of your breasts heaving against his chest. The sight of you silently begging him for more with the very eyes that had only just scolded him. 

If he wasn’t so determined to take you fiercely and completely on the very place where you did your work for the Republic so that you wouldn’t be able to even sign off on a report without thinking of him throbbing inside you, he’d do things differently right now. 

Maybe take your robe that was hanging on the door and lay it across the floor so that he could lie between your legs and show you all the ways he could worship you with just his tongue. Hell, he could drop to his knees right now and make you grip onto his hair with one hand while the other tries desperately to hold back the prayers coming from your mouth.

As fun as all that would be, it isn’t what Wolffe wants right now. And it isn’t what you need, either.

Gripping your hips just a little tighter, relishing the way your skin feels in his ungloved hand, Wolffe rests his forehead against yours so that every breath or gasp either of you take comes from the other. 

Taking one now, he whispers back into your mouth, “I’m going to fuck you. And you’re going to watch.”

You exhale sharply out of your nose, teeth biting even more firmly into your bottom lip and cunt clinching impossibly tighter around his fingers, as he feels one of your hands drift down to settle against his cheek. He turns his head, presses his lips softly against your palm and imagines, just briefly, that you aren’t sitting on your desk in your office on the GAR compound but on a counter in a home on some planet that doesn’t even remember that a war was ever fought.

Then you slide your tongue up his jaw and to his ear. “What are you waiting for, Commander?” you whisper with far too much confidence in your ability to keep quiet.

He pulls his head back slightly, eyes narrowed, and slowly, slowly, removes his fingers from your cunt. Your chest stutters on a huffed breath and he smirks.

“Don’t worry,” he whispers back, “you won’t be empty for long.”

Still smirking, he brings the fingers that were just inside you up to your face and grips your chin, pulling your head down to watch as his other hand brings his cock closer to your opening. A whimper, so small and soft that he might have missed it if everything in his body wasn’t so trained on you right now, escapes from your mouth.

He stills his cock, right at the each of your lips, and tuts. “Gonna have to do better than that, love.”

His fingers tight around your chin make it so that you can’t look up at him, but he knows you’re glaring nonetheless. The thought makes his cock twitch against you and this time you both suck in a sharp breath. Your hand on his shoulder squeezes, trying to pull him even closer, but he resists.

“We do this my way, mesh’la,’ he breathes, finally releasing your chin and moving both hands to your waist. “Keep your eyes on us, yeah?”

Your head bobs as you nod and Wolffe pushes into you at an achingly slow pace, even for him. Every muscle in his body is begging for him to speed up, to grip your waist, pick you off the table and slam into your hot, wet cunt over and over until you’re filled with him. But the way your body trembles with every short thrust, the way your fingernails are digging into his skin, the way he can feel you breathe through your nose because you can’t risk letting your lips loose … it’s too good for him to give up.

When he’s finally fully in you, every inch of his cock buried in your walls, his teeth have broken the skin of his lips and he can taste blood.

Worth it, he thinks as he joins your gaze down at where the two of you are joined.

He moves his hand from you waist and tilts your head up. As much as he enjoys knowing you were seeing the same sight as him, he wants to see your eyes now. Wants to look into them and know what you’re feeling, what you’re thinking, what you want.

When you blink up at him, your pupils blown wide, it’s his turn to stutter on a breath. Something in your gaze pierces straight to his chest and down to his cock, making you both cling to each other tighter.

That something, and he’d be lying to himself if he pretended he didn’t know what it was, works its way through his bones and his blood until he has one hand cradling your cheek and the other weaving his fingers through your own.

He opens his mouth to give that something a name when you beat him to it.

“I love you, Wolffe,” you whisper and he nearly chokes on your words before he realizes you’re not done, “but I thought you said you were going to fuck me.”

He huffs out a laugh, shaking his head as you smirk up at him. He runs a thumb over your cheekbone and that smirk turns into a softer smile that he kisses into a silent moan.

When he says his next words, it’s on air you pant into his mouth. “I was just waiting for you to catch up.”

Later, on his knees and cleaning up the mess he made of you, Wolffe nips the inside of your thigh when you let out a moan. “I love you, mesh’la, but I thought you said you were going to be quiet.”

You grip his hair, fingernails leaving soft trails underneath the curls, and he smiles into you as he reaches around to move your hands, intertwined, until they’re gripping the edge of your desk.

He might have just bared his soul to you with his face buried in your cunt, but that doesn’t mean he’s done with you, or this desk, yet — far from it.

Thinking of all the ways he can still love you and defile you on the very place you work, Wolffe licks his lips and dives in.

I think I've worked out (part of the reason) why there's been such a huge uptick in folks who don't reblog things on here.

This post has like 14k notes right now, and the tags and comments and reblogs are FULL of people who didn't know about fast-reblog, and -- you guys have been slow-reblogging this whole time!?!??!?!?

In the interests of a) making your lives easier, and b) encouraging you to reblog posts, which is what keeps this site alive, here's how you fast-reblog:

On mobile: press and hold the reblog button. Your blog icon will appear. If you have sideblogs, all of the different icons will appear. Drag to whichever blog you want to reblog to, and release. Job done.

On desktop: hold down the E key and click reblog. Job done.

You're welcome. Now get reblogging.