needy pt.1
chapter summary: You're Scott's younger sister and for months you've been secretly dating Logan. How much longer can you and him keep the secret?
word count: 8.3k+ (19.3k+ total)
pairing: Logan Howlett x fem!reader
notes: don't ask how or why this is so long, it was meant to be be less than 10k words but it just kept going. i was having a lot of fun writing this, and if people want to see a continuation or some other part of the story with these two, don't be afraid to ask! for now, enjoy cause there are like 3 smut scenes
there are two parts! tumblr has a word limit so i had to split it up!
warnings/tags: smut, unprotected piv, slight exhibitionism, slight pain kink, creampie, age gap (that's obvi), oral (f!receiving), slight praise kink, fingering, secret relationship, jealously, some possessiveness, peter maximoff being a little shit, fluff, slight angst
❀ part 2 ❀
“That’s it sweetheart.” Logan drawled, his body hovering over yours while slowly thrusting into you. “Doin’ so good for me.”
Your hands clawed at his shoulders, nail indents healing immediately.
Logan let out a low, rough chuckle against your throat. "Feisty, huh?" His voice was thick with heat, lips dragging along your pulse as he thrust deeper. "Go on, doll, mark me up all you want. Ain't like it'll stick—but I like feelin' you try."
Your breath hitched, legs tightening around his waist. "Shut up and move, Logan."
His smirk was all teeth. "Bossy." But he gave you what you wanted, picking up the pace, the bed rocking under both of you.
Knock. Knock.
Your body stiffened instantly. Logan froze too, just for a second, before his head snapped toward the door.
"Y/N?"
Scott.
Your stomach flipped. Logan's grip on your hip tightened. "You've gotta be fuckin' kiddin' me," he muttered under his breath.
"Shut up," you hissed, slapping a hand over his mouth. He raised an eyebrow at you, clearly amused despite the situation.
Scott knocked again. "You in there?"
You scrambled for an excuse, trying to keep your voice normal. "Uh—yeah! What do you want?"
Logan leaned in, lips brushing your ear as he whispered, "Think he knows his baby sister's gettin' fucked dumb by the big bad Wolverine?"
You smacked his shoulder. "You're not helping."
Scott sighed on the other side of the door. "Jean said you weren’t in your room, and you missed training this morning. You okay?"
Shit. "Yeah! I'm fine! I just—I was asleep."
Logan stifled a laugh against your neck. "Not a total lie," he murmured, nipping at your jaw.
You shoved at his chest. "Stop it," you mouthed.
Scott hesitated. "You sure?"
Logan's hips rolled, and you barely bit back a moan. "Positive," you choked out. "Just… tired. Can we talk later?"
A pause. Then: "Alright. Just checkin'." His footsteps retreated down the hall.
Logan didn’t wait. The second Scott’s footsteps faded down the hall, he was back on you—mouth hot, breath rough, hands greedy.
"You shoulda heard yourself," he murmured, lips dragging along your jaw. "Tryin’ to sound all innocent when I got you stuffed full like this."
Your nails dug into his back again, legs still locked tight around his waist. "And whose fault is that?"
His smirk was downright filthy. "Mine. And I ain't even a little sorry."
He moved again—slow, deep thrusts that had you gasping against his shoulder. You bit down on his skin, just to keep quiet, and he groaned low in his chest. "Fuck, doll, do that again."
You did, dragging your teeth over his collarbone, then licking over the mark like an apology. His pace stuttered for half a second before he pressed you deeper into the mattress, forearm braced next to your head.
"You wanna play dirty, huh?" His voice was a growl now, rough as gravel. "You're gonna be real sorry 'bout that."
And then he set a punishing rhythm—hips slamming into yours, his body pressed so tight to you that you could feel the heat of him everywhere.
You couldn't think, couldn't breathe. Every drag, every thrust had you unraveling under him, nails clawing at his arms, his back, his shoulders—anything to ground yourself.
"Logan," you gasped.
He groaned, burying his face in your neck. "Yeah, sweetheart, I know. I got you."
His breath was hot against your skin, his weight solid, grounding. But there was nothing slow or sweet about the way he moved now—his hips drove into yours with an intensity that made your nails sink even deeper into his back.
"Fuck, Logan," you gasped, your voice barely above a whisper.
He chuckled, rough and dark. "S'what I like to hear," he muttered, dragging his teeth along the side of your throat. "All those little noises—only I get to hear ‘em, huh?"
Your fingers tangled in his hair, yanking just enough to make him grunt. "Maybe if you'd shut up and—oh, shit—keep going—"
Logan didn't need more encouragement. He pressed you further into the mattress, keeping you pinned beneath him, his pace relentless. Every roll of his hips sent a sharp, toe-curling heat through you, your pulse thudding loud in your ears.
Then—his mouth was at your ear again. "You still think Scott bought that bullshit excuse?"
Your stomach tightened, pleasure warring with panic. "Shut up," you hissed.
His smirk was pure sin. "Nah. Kinda fun knowin’ he was just outside while I had you like this—"
"Logan," you warned, biting back a moan.
He just hummed like the idea amused him. "Bet he'd lose his fuckin’ mind if he knew, huh? His sweet, innocent baby sister—" His hips slammed into yours, forcing out a sharp, breathless gasp. "—gettin' wrecked by the guy he hates most."
You slapped a hand over his mouth again, eyes flashing. "Do you want us to get caught?"
Logan just huffed against your palm, but his eyes burned with something darker. Amused. Possessive. A challenge.
Then, just as quickly, he shifted, dragging your hand away and pinning it above your head, his fingers laced through yours. "Nah, I like keepin’ you all to myself," he murmured against your lips before claiming them in a kiss—deep, messy, all tongue and teeth and heat.
The knock at the door had long since faded into silence, but the risk still lingered—your brother was right there, just down the hall. The thought alone made something coil tighter in your gut.
"Logan," you whispered, half warning, half plea.
"Shh," he muttered, his free hand slipping down your body, gripping tight at your waist as he drove into you again. "Just focus on me, sweetheart. Nothin’ else matters."
And for now, with his body pressing you deeper into the sheets, his breath ragged against your skin, and his hands branding you in ways that would never fade—he was right.
---
Dinner was already a disaster, and you hadn’t even sat down yet. Scott was in full big-brother mode, still eyeing you like he wasn’t convinced by your excuse from earlier. Jean had that look too—like she could hear your heart rate spike every time Scott brought it up. And Rogue? She was the worst of them all, smirking every time you so much as shifted in your seat.
“So,” Scott started, arms crossed as he leaned against the kitchen counter. “You sure you’re okay?”
You grabbed a plate, keeping your expression neutral. “Yeah, Scott. Just tired. I overslept.”
Scott frowned, clearly skeptical. “You never oversleep.”
Rogue snorted into her drink. “Maybe she had a long night,” she said innocently, then flicked her gaze toward you with way too much amusement.
Your stomach dropped. You shot her a glare, but she just smirked over the rim of her cup.
“Long night doing what?” Scott asked.
Jean sighed. “Scott.”
“No, seriously. She missed training. That’s not like her.”
“Maybe she was busy,” Rogue said, taking a slow sip. “Real busy.”
You swore you were going to kill her. Right here. At the dinner table.
Scott’s frown deepened. “Doing what?”
Before Rogue could dig your grave any deeper, Logan walked in like he owned the place, rolling his shoulders and grabbing a beer from the fridge. He barely spared you a glance, but you knew he was enjoying this way too much.
“Doin’ what, Summers?” Logan popped the cap off the bottle and took a swig, looking entirely unbothered.
Scott gestured toward you. “She missed training this morning. Said she was sleeping, but she never oversleeps.”
Logan shrugged. “Guess she needed it.”
Scott narrowed his eyes. “You don’t think that’s weird?”
Logan leaned against the counter, looking unimpressed. “What’s weird is you interrogatin’ her like she committed a crime.”
Rogue let out a cough that sounded a hell of a lot like a laugh.
Jean, who had been watching the entire thing unfold, finally spoke up. “Scott, drop it. If she says she was tired, she was tired.”
Scott exhaled sharply, clearly still unconvinced but finally letting it go. “Fine.” He grabbed his plate and moved to sit down.
Logan smirked over the rim of his beer before taking another sip. You didn’t even have to look at him to know exactly what was going through his head.
As soon as Scott turned away, Rogue leaned over and muttered under her breath, “You’re lucky Jean shut him up.”
You kicked her under the table. She just grinned.
---
Later that night you were in your bedroom reading a book when someone knocked on your door. “It’s open!” you called out. You knew it wouldn’t be Logan, not when it was only 9 pm.
Rogue plopped down beside you, stretching her legs out and giving you a shit-eating grin.
"So," she drawled, nudging your shoulder. "How's your nap?"
You groaned, already regretting not locking your door. "Not you too."
"Oh, especially me," she said, grinning. "C'mon, sugar, I deserve some details after helpin’ cover your ass at dinner."
You shot her a glare. "You almost got me caught."
"Please," she scoffed. "Scott's dense as hell when it comes to you. If Jean weren’t there, he’d still be tryin’ to figure out what was ‘off’ about you today." She smirked. "Meanwhile, I know exactly what was off."
You grabbed a pillow and smacked her with it. Rogue just laughed. "Hey, I ain't judgin’! I just think it’s funny how not subtle you two are."
You gave her a look. "We are subtle."
"Uh-huh. Sure," she said, rolling her eyes. "So subtle that I had to watch Logan barely contain his smug-ass smirk at dinner. You realize you got played, right? Scott started pushin’, and Logan shut it down in, like, two sentences."
You frowned. "That wasn’t playing me—that was helping me."
Rogue snorted. "Girl, Logan lives for this. He’s gettin’ off on the fact that he’s sneakin’ around with Scott Summers' baby sister."
You opened your mouth, then closed it. You hated that she was probably right.
Rogue grinned. "Bet he’s got a real nice ego boost right now."
You sighed, flopping back against your pillows. "I hate you."
"No, you don't," she said cheerfully. "But you do love makin’ bad decisions."
"Logan is not a bad decision." She raised an eyebrow. You crossed your arms. "He’s not."
Rogue just smirked. "Whatever helps you sleep at night, sugar."
You groaned. "Are you done?"
"Not even close," she said, kicking her feet up on your bed. "But I’ll give you a break—for now."
"Gee, thanks."
She chuckled, then eyed you for a moment before her smirk softened just a little. "You really like him, huh?"
You hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Yeah. I do."
Rogue nodded, like she already knew. "Then I guess I’ll keep coverin’ for you."
You smiled. "Thanks."
"Don’t thank me yet," she said, grinning. "If you two do get caught, I wanna be front row for Scott’s meltdown."
---
A few nights later, you barely made it two steps into your room before a rough hand grabbed your wrist and yanked you inside. The door shut behind you with a quiet click.
“Jesus—Logan!” You turned, ready to shove him off, but the moment you saw the look in his eyes, your stomach flipped.
His hands were already on your waist, pushing you back until your spine hit the door. His body was flush against yours, heat radiating from him.
“You’ve been drivin’ me fuckin’ crazy all day,” he muttered, voice low, rough. His fingers dug into your hips, holding you in place like he needed to. “Sittin’ across from me at dinner, actin’ all innocent, while I’m still thinkin’ ‘bout the way you came on my cock the other night.”
Your breath hitched, pulse spiking. “Logan—”
“Could barely keep my hands to myself,” he murmured, lips brushing your jaw, your throat. “You think Scott noticed how damn quiet I was?”
You swallowed hard, hands clutching at his arms. “You were quiet?”
Logan chuckled against your skin. “See? You weren’t payin’ attention either.” He pressed closer, one thigh slotting between yours, and you felt him—hot, hard, ready.
“Logan,” you breathed, your fingers twisting in his shirt.
“Yeah, sweetheart?” His lips brushed your ear, teasing. “Tell me what you want.”
A sharp knock made you both freeze. Again? Your stomach dropped as Logan exhaled sharply, muttering a curse under his breath.
“Y/N?” Scott’s voice.
You shut your eyes, biting back a groan. Logan’s forehead dropped against your shoulder, his whole body tense.
“You gotta be fuckin’ kidding me,” he whispered.
You shoved at his chest, mouthing move. He just smirked, staying right where he was.
Scott knocked again. “You in there?”
Logan's smirk widened, eyes gleaming with something smug. You cleared your throat, forcing your voice to sound normal. “Yeah, I’m here.”
“Open up.”
Panic shot through you. Logan just raised an eyebrow, amused. You shoved at his chest harder, whispering, “hide.”
He grinned. “No.”
Your glare was sharp. “Logan.”
He sighed, rolling his eyes before finally stepping back. “Fine.” He moved toward your closet, muttering, “This is fuckin’ humiliatin’,” under his breath.
You didn’t have time to argue. The moment he was out of sight, you exhaled hard and cracked the door open.
Scott frowned down at you. “Why’d that take so long?”
You forced a casual shrug. “I was getting ready for bed.”
Scott squinted at you, then looked over your shoulder, like he expected to find some kind of evidence of your lies. “You sure?”
Your heart pounded. “Yes, Scott,” you huffed, crossing your arms. “Why are you here?”
Scott still looked unconvinced, but finally said, “I wanted to see if you wanted to train in the morning. Just us.”
You blinked. “Uh… sure?”
“Cool. Early morning session. Don’t be late.” He gave you another suspicious look before stepping back. “Night, Y/N.”
You gave him the fakest smile you could muster. “Night.”
The second the door shut, Logan was out of the closet, shaking his head. “You owe me for that.”
You rolled your eyes. “Oh, poor you. Hiding for thirty seconds.”
He stepped close again, hands sliding back onto your waist. “Not the hidin’ part that pissed me off,” he muttered, pressing his mouth to your throat. “It’s the part where I didn’t get to finish what I started.”
Heat curled in your stomach. “Then finish it,” you whispered.
Logan’s grip tightened, fingers digging into your waist as he pressed you back against the door, his body flush against yours. Heat radiated off him in waves, thick and consuming.
"Thought you'd never ask," he murmured, his voice all gravel and dark amusement. His lips traced a slow path along your jaw before dragging down to your throat, teeth grazing sensitive skin.
Your fingers curled into his shirt, desperate to hold onto something as his hands moved—one sliding up your side, under your shirt, rough fingers splaying against bare skin. You sucked in a sharp breath as he pressed his thigh between yours, the pressure making your head spin.
"Logan—"
"You were teasin' me all damn day," he muttered against your skin. "All wide eyes and sweet little smiles like you weren’t sittin’ there with my fuckin’ marks still on you."
Your breath hitched. His teeth caught on the spot where your shoulder met your neck, biting just enough to make you gasp. "Not my fault you left them," you whispered, your own hands slipping under his shirt, tracing over the hard muscle of his stomach.
Logan chuckled—low, dangerous. "Oh, it was on purpose, sweetheart. Wanted you rememberin' exactly where my mouth was."
His lips skimmed your jaw, his stubble scraping your skin as he worked his way lower, pressing open-mouthed kisses along the line of your throat. His hands were firm, fingers digging into your waist, holding you against him like he needed you there.
"You should've finished before Scott interrupted," you muttered, breathless, trying to keep some semblance of control.
Logan chuckled against your skin, the vibration sending a shiver down your spine. "Sweetheart, you really think I’m the kinda guy to rush this?" His teeth scraped over the sensitive spot just beneath your ear. "Nah. You started this game, now you gotta deal with the consequences."
His hands moved—one slipping beneath your shirt, fingers splaying across your ribs, rough and warm. The other slid lower, down the curve of your hip, before gripping the back of your thigh and hauling it up against his side. The movement sent you pressing closer, heat meeting heat, and you gasped.
"You feel that?" His voice was a low growl. "Been hard all damn day because of you."
Your fingers curled into his shirt, pulling him even closer. "Then do something about it."
His smirk was pure arrogance. "Oh, you got some fire tonight, huh?" His hand on your thigh tightened, his other sliding higher beneath your shirt, grazing the underside of your breast. "I like that."
Before you could snap back, he kissed you—hard. No hesitation, no teasing. His lips crashed against yours, his tongue sweeping into your mouth like he was claiming you, like he'd been waiting for this all day. And maybe he had.
Your back hit the door harder as he pressed into you, deepening the kiss, swallowing the quiet moan that slipped from your throat. His hands were everywhere—roaming, gripping, pulling.
Then, with no warning, he lifted you. You gasped against his lips, legs instinctively wrapping around his waist as he turned, carrying you toward the bed like you weighed nothing.
"You just gonna manhandle me now?" you teased, breathless.
Logan smirked, dropping you onto the mattress with a bounce. "Damn right I am."
Before you could recover, he was on you—hands braced on either side of your head, knee pressing between your thighs. His lips were back on yours, insistent, hungry. He kissed like he fought—relentless, determined, and utterly in control.
Your fingers tangled in his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp, and the growl he let out sent heat pooling low in your stomach.
His fingers slipped beneath your shirt, dragging it up, his knuckles grazing heated skin as he peeled it over your head. The second it was gone, his mouth was everywhere—kissing, nipping, sucking at the newly exposed skin like he had something to prove.
"Logan—" Your voice hitched as his teeth scraped over your collarbone.
"Shh," he murmured against your skin, lips moving lower. "Let me enjoy this."
His hands found the waistband of your pants, tugging them down with far too much ease, his lips still moving, still teasing. You barely had time to process the cool air against your skin before his hands were on your thighs, spreading you open.
He looked up at you, eyes dark, heated, hungry. "You are gonna be real quiet for me, right?" His voice was nothing but rough gravel and amusement. "Wouldn't want your brother to come knockin' again."
You should've had a smart-ass response ready, but the moment his mouth was on you, your brain short-circuited. A sharp gasp tore from your throat as his tongue dragged slow and deliberate, a teasing flick before he sealed his lips around you and sucked. Your fingers shot to his hair, tangling in the thick mess, your back arching off the bed before you even realized it.
"Logan—"
He growled against you, the vibration sending a shock straight through your system. His grip on your thighs tightened, holding you open, keeping you exactly where he wanted you.
"Quiet, sweetheart," he murmured, dragging his mouth away just enough to speak. His lips were slick, his voice dark with amusement.
You clenched your jaw, the reminder making your face burn—but not enough to stop you from tugging his hair, shoving him back down where he belonged. Logan chuckled, but didn’t argue.
He buried himself between your thighs again, tongue pressing, curling, teasing. Every flick sent heat pooling deep in your stomach, every slow, deliberate movement dragging you higher and higher, the tension coiling tight.
Your breathing turned uneven, fingers clutching at the sheets. "Logan," you gasped, your thighs threatening to clamp shut.
He didn’t let you. His hands flexed, holding you open as he devoured you, his pace slow and maddening, like he knew exactly what he was doing to you.
"You’re close," he muttered, voice muffled against your skin. He pressed a kiss right where you needed him most, almost gentle. "I can feel it."
You bit down hard on your lip, refusing to give him the satisfaction of begging. But Logan had other plans. He sucked, hard and sudden, and your whole body jerked.
A sharp cry broke from your throat, your hands flying to muffle yourself as heat crashed through you. The tension snapped, pleasure rolling through you in shuddering waves, your body trembling beneath his hold.
He groaned against you, like he was savoring every second, like he lived for this.
Only when you finally slumped back against the sheets, breathless and spent, did he pull away, dragging the back of his hand across his mouth.
"Sweetheart," he muttered, his voice thick with heat and satisfaction. "You taste so fuckin’ sweet when you come for me."
Your face burned, but you still shot him a glare. "Cocky."
Logan smirked. "Damn right."
Then he was on you again, lips crashing against yours, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. His body pressed flush against yours, his jeans rough against your bare skin, and—
Yeah. He was still hard as hell.
"You got yours," you murmured against his mouth, reaching between you. "Now let me return the favor."
His breath stuttered as your fingers brushed against the hard length straining behind his zipper, but before you could do anything else, his hand caught your wrist.
"Not yet." His voice was rough, strained. "I need to be inside you first."
Your stomach flipped. He reached down, making quick work of his belt, his jeans, shoving them down just enough. You caught the briefest glimpse of him before he was lining himself up, the heat of him pressing against you.
"Fuck," he groaned as he pushed inside, slow, stretching you open inch by inch until he was buried to the hilt.
Your mouth parted, a soft, breathless moan slipping free at the feeling of him—full, deep, overwhelming in the best way.
Logan shuddered. "You feel so fuckin’ good, doll," he rasped against your ear.
Then he moved. A slow, deliberate pull before thrusting back in, setting a steady, deep rhythm. Every movement sent sparks through your system, your fingers digging into his shoulders, your breath coming in soft gasps.
Logan groaned, forehead dropping to your shoulder. "Fuckin’ hell, I missed this."
You clung to him, your body tightening around him in response. His pace faltered for half a second before he growled—and snapped his hips into you. A sharp cry tore from your throat, and Logan grinned. "That’s what I thought."
Then he really started moving. Deep, rough thrusts, dragging you higher and higher, your nails raking down his back as pleasure coiled tight again, building faster this time.
"Logan—"
"I got you," he muttered, voice wrecked. "Come on, sweetheart, let go for me."
You did. The pleasure crashed through you, your body trembling as you came around him, his name falling from your lips in a breathless moan.
Logan groaned, his thrusts turning erratic before he buried himself deep, his whole body tensing as he followed you over the edge.
For a long moment, neither of you moved, just tangled together, catching your breath.
"You’re heavy," you muttered, pushing weakly at his chest.
Logan huffed a laugh but finally rolled onto his side, dragging you with him.
"You love it," he muttered, pressing a lazy kiss to your temple.
You snorted. "You wish."
He just grinned, pulling you closer.
---
You and Logan rarely have date nights. It was hard to find a quiet, empty space in the mansion that you knew no one was going to go into.
Let alone Scott letting you go out at night, even if you were 25.
But, tonight, you had a way around that. Rogue had already gone out with Bobby to the carnival that was in town which gave you a perfect excuse to leave the mansion.
You walked to the front door and barely put your hand on the doorknob when Scott’s voice rang out.
"Where do you think you're going?"
You froze, forcing yourself to keep your expression neutral before turning around. "Carnival. Rogue and Bobby already went, so I figured I’d go check it out."
Scott crossed his arms, eyeing you suspiciously. "Since when do you like carnivals?"
You shrugged. "Since now." Scott frowned like he was trying to figure out what was off. You didn’t give him a chance to ask more questions. "You gonna let me go, or are we really about to have a whole interrogation over funnel cakes and rigged games?"
Before Scott could answer, Logan came strolling down the hallway, clearly on his way somewhere—until Scott turned to him.
"Logan, drive her."
Logan blinked. "What?"
Scott gestured toward you. "She’s going to the carnival. Drive her."
Your stomach flipped. You had to fight to keep the surprise off your face. This was perfect.
Logan’s expression didn’t change, but you knew him well enough to catch the slight twitch of amusement in his eyes. "Why?"
Scott gave Logan a flat look. "Because I don’t want her going alone."
"I can handle myself," you said quickly.
Scott ignored you, still looking at Logan. "Just drop her off and make sure she actually goes inside. Then pick her up when she’s ready to leave."
You resisted the urge to roll your eyes. "I’m twenty-five, Scott. Not fifteen."
"And yet, you’re still my little sister," he shot back.
Logan sighed like this whole conversation was exhausting. "Fine. C’mon, kid," he said, jerking his head toward the door.
You clenched your jaw at the nickname, knowing exactly why he used it in front of Scott. But you didn’t argue. Instead, you grabbed your jacket and walked past them, ignoring the smug look Scott gave you like he’d just ensured your safety for the night.
The second you and Logan stepped outside, he let out a low chuckle. "Well, ain’t this convenient?"
You shot him a look. "Don’t be smug."
"Too late."
---
The drive was quiet at first, just the hum of the engine and the occasional sound of Logan shifting gears. You knew Scott had probably expected Logan to drop you off, watch you go inside, then leave. But instead, Logan was taking the scenic route, driving further away from the carnival.
"You know, if Scott ever finds out about us, he’s gonna kill you," you said, watching the streetlights blur past.
Logan smirked, eyes still on the road. "Nah. He’s gonna try."
You rolled your eyes, but the warmth spreading in your chest betrayed you.
After a few minutes, Logan pulled into a small lot near a bar you both knew was usually quiet on weekdays. He killed the engine and turned to you. "So, what’s the plan, doll? We head in, grab a drink, then pretend you spent the whole night winnin’ stuffed animals?"
You smirked. "Something like that."
Logan leaned in slightly, eyes darkening. "Or… we could skip the drinks and find somethin’ else to do."
Your breath hitched, heart pounding. "Temptin’."
His smirk widened, but he didn’t push. Instead, he just reached for his door handle. "C’mon, let’s make this date look real."
You followed him inside, the warmth of the bar a stark contrast to the cool night air. It wasn’t crowded—just a few regulars, a couple playing pool in the corner, and a bartender who barely looked up as you both walked in.
Logan led you to a booth near the back, out of the way, and slid in across from you.
"So," he drawled, resting his arms on the table, "you gonna let me win you a giant teddy bear later?"
You snorted. "You? Win a carnival game? Please."
His eyes gleamed with amusement. "You doubtin’ me, sweetheart?"
You leaned forward slightly, a teasing smile on your lips. "I’m just saying… those games take skill. Precision. A soft touch. You’re more of a… smash things and ask questions later kind of guy."
Logan chuckled, shaking his head. "You got a real smart mouth, you know that?"
"Yeah, and you love it."
He smirked. "Damn right I do."
The bartender came by, and you both ordered drinks. Logan, of course, got whiskey. You opted for something lighter. As soon as the bartender walked away, Logan reached across the table, taking your hand in his. His thumb brushed over your knuckles, slow and deliberate.
"Been wantin’ to do that all day," he muttered.
Your heart flipped. You curled your fingers around Logan’s, warmth spreading from the simple touch. He never did this at the mansion—not where anyone could see. But here, away from prying eyes, he was different.
"Yeah?" you murmured, teasing, but your voice was softer than you intended.
Logan’s thumb traced lazy circles against your skin. "Yeah." His eyes flicked up, locking onto yours, something unreadable in them. "Kinda hate sneakin’ around all the time."
You swallowed, suddenly hyperaware of the weight behind his words. "I know."
He didn’t push, didn’t say anything else—just held your hand, like that was enough for now. And maybe it was.
The bartender dropped off your drinks, barely sparing either of you a glance. Logan finally let go, but not before giving your fingers one last squeeze.
You picked up your drink, taking a sip. "So, you actually gonna win me that teddy bear later, or were you just talking shit?"
Logan smirked, reaching for his whiskey. "Sweetheart, I ain’t losin’ to a rigged game."
"You sound awfully confident for someone who doesn’t exactly scream ‘hand-eye coordination.’"
Logan huffed a laugh, shaking his head. "You’re a real pain in the ass, you know that?"
"You’re the one dating me."
"Yeah, yeah," he muttered, but the smirk tugging at his lips said he didn’t mind one bit.
The two of you sat there, drinking, talking, stealing quick touches when no one was looking. It felt easy—like it was supposed to be like this all the time.
You didn’t know how long you stayed, but eventually, Logan leaned back in the booth, stretching his arms across the seat. "Time to make this date look real."
You raised an eyebrow. "Meaning?"
"Meaning we go to the damn carnival, you let me win somethin’, and we make sure Summers doesn’t think you were out doin’ somethin’ reckless."
You smirked. "Technically, I am."
Logan snorted, throwing some cash on the table before standing up. "C’mon, trouble. Let’s get you a prize."
---
The carnival was packed, neon lights casting everything in a bright, chaotic glow. The scent of fried food, sugar, and asphalt filled the air, mixing with the hum of laughter and the occasional shriek from a nearby ride.
You walked beside Logan, your fingers grazing his every few steps, but neither of you reached out. Not here.
"Alright, hotshot," you said, stopping in front of a shooting game. "Let’s see if you’re actually as good as you claim."
Logan stepped up to the booth, rolling his shoulders like he was preparing for a fight. "You doubtin’ me?"
You crossed your arms, smirking. "I don’t doubt that you’re good at a lot of things, but precision? Patience? Not exactly your strong suit."
Logan just grunted, dropping some cash onto the counter. The guy running the booth handed him a plastic rifle, looking thoroughly unimpressed.
"You gotta hit all five targets," the guy drawled, popping gum in his mouth. "You miss one, you lose."
Logan spun the rifle in his hand like it was nothing, raising an eyebrow at you. "Watch and learn, sweetheart."
You huffed a laugh, but then—
Crack.
The first target dropped.
Then the second.
Then the third, fourth, fifth—so fast the guy running the booth barely had time to register it before the last one clattered down.
Logan set the rifle down with a smirk. "Told ya."
You blinked. "Okay. That was… impressive."
"You're damn right it was." He turned to the booth guy, jerking his head toward the line of stuffed animals. "Pick whichever one she wants."
You looked at the rows of plush toys, pretending to think before pointing at the most obnoxious, oversized teddy bear in sight.
Logan’s smirk faltered. "Really?"
"You said I could pick," you reminded him, grinning.
He muttered something under his breath but took the giant bear when the guy handed it over, tossing it at you. "Happy now?"
You hugged the ridiculous thing to your chest. "Very."
Logan shook his head, amusement flickering in his eyes. "You’re gonna be the death of me, doll."
You grinned, looping your arm through his as you walked. "Yeah, but what a way to go."
---
By the time you got back to the mansion, it was late. The house was mostly quiet, save for the faint murmur of the TV in the common room.
Logan parked in the driveway, shutting off the engine. Neither of you moved right away.
He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel. "You know we can’t keep this up forever."
Your chest tightened. "I know."
Silence stretched between you for a beat. Then he spoke, "you worth the trouble, sweetheart?" Logan’s voice was softer, rough in a different way.
You turned to him, meeting his gaze. "You tell me."
His lips twitched, but he didn’t answer. Instead, he reached over, curling a hand around the back of your neck, pulling you in for a slow, deliberate kiss.
It was different from earlier—less teasing, less rushed. Just warm, steady, like he was trying to say something without actually saying it.
When he finally pulled back, his forehead rested against yours for a second before he exhaled and pulled away completely. "Go on. Before Summers comes lookin’."
You rolled your eyes but grabbed the stupidly large teddy bear and climbed out. As you walked inside, you didn’t have to look back to know Logan was watching.
---
"Jesus, sugar. That’s a big teddy bear," Rogue said, leaning against your doorframe with her arms crossed, smirking.
You flopped onto your bed, the ridiculous oversized bear landing beside you. "Yeah, well, I earned it."
She raised an eyebrow. "Oh? Did you? ‘Cause I got a feelin’ Logan earned it, and you just picked the biggest, most obnoxious thing you could outta spite."
You grinned, not even trying to deny it. "He said I could pick."
Rogue let out a snort and stepped inside, flopping down next to the bear and poking its fluffy face. "So, how was date night with our favorite bad decision?"
"Great, actually," you admitted, hugging a pillow to your chest. "We got drinks, he won me this monstrosity, and Scott still thinks I was eating funnel cake and riding the Ferris wheel all night."
Rogue let out a dramatic sigh. "That boy is so clueless, it’s almost sad." Then she shot you a look. "But you know he’s gonna find out eventually, right?"
Your stomach twisted, but you shrugged. "I know."
She tilted her head. "And?"
"And… we’ll deal with it when we have to."
Rogue studied you for a moment, then smirked. "You’re fallin’ for him."
Your mouth opened, but no words came out. Instead, you grabbed the teddy bear and smacked her in the face with it.
She cackled, shoving it away. "Oh, sugar, you are so screwed."
"Shut up."
"Nah, I love this," she teased. "Big, bad Wolverine gettin’ all soft for little ol’ you. It’s cute."
"He is not—" You stopped yourself, because… yeah. He kind of was. At least with you.
Rogue grinned, smug as hell. "I bet he’s outside your window right now, just sittin’ there, all broody, waitin’ for me to leave so he can sneak in."
You rolled your eyes. "He’s not that predictable."
A faint tap at your window made you both freeze. Rogue's eyes went wide before she burst out laughing, smacking your arm. "No fuckin’ way."
You shot her a glare before pushing off the bed, crossing the room, and pulling the curtain back.
Sure enough, Logan stood outside, arms crossed, eyebrow raised. You cracked the window open just enough to whisper, "Are you serious?"
Logan just smirked. "You gonna let me in, or what?"
Rogue was still laughing behind you. "Oh, sugar, I’m never lettin’ you live this down."
---
“Where’d you get that necklace?” Jean asked, looking over the rim of her coffee mug.
You barely paused as you stirred sugar into your coffee. "Bought it for myself," you said, keeping your tone casual.
Jean hummed, watching you for a second longer before taking a sip. "It’s nice. Simple."
You nodded, fingers brushing over the small silver Earth pendant. "Yeah. Thought so too."
Across the table, Rogue smirked into her cup but said nothing. You could feel her amusement radiating off of her, but you refused to look at her. If you did, you’d probably give yourself away.
Jean, thankfully, didn’t press. She just shrugged and leaned back in her chair. "Well, good for you. You don’t usually wear jewelry."
You forced a small smile. "Guess I’m changing things up."
Rogue let out a quiet snort. You kicked her under the table.
Jean’s gaze flicked between the two of you, like she was debating whether or not to ask what that was about, but before she could, Scott walked in, yawning as he grabbed a cup of coffee.
"You training today?" he asked you, rubbing a hand over his face.
"Yeah," you said. "After breakfast."
Scott nodded, taking a sip of his coffee. He didn’t seem to notice the way Rogue was still fighting laughter or how Jean kept glancing at your necklace.
You exhaled quietly, focusing on your coffee. Crisis averted. For now.
---
Later that day, you found Logan in the garage, leaning against his bike, arms crossed as he watched you approach.
"You know," you said, stopping in front of him, "Jean noticed the necklace."
Logan raised an eyebrow. "Yeah? You tell her?"
"Nope," you said, rocking back on your heels. "Said I bought it for myself."
He huffed a quiet laugh. "Smart girl."
You smirked. "I try."
Logan reached out, hooking a finger under the chain and tugging you closer. "Y’could’ve just told her the truth."
You gave him a look. "Oh, sure. ‘Hey Jean, thanks for noticing! My secret boyfriend who my brother would literally kill bought it for me. Cool, right?’"
Logan smirked. "I’d pay to see the look on Summers’ face if you ever actually said that."
You rolled your eyes. "You just wanna see him lose his shit."
"Maybe," he admitted, voice full of amusement.
You sighed, shaking your head. "You are such a menace."
Logan’s grip on the necklace tightened for a second before he let it go, letting his fingers trail lightly over your collarbone. "You still wearin’ it, though."
Your breath hitched slightly at the touch, but you kept your expression neutral. "Yeah. I like it."
His smirk softened, just a little. "Good."
For a second, you just stood there, his fingers still ghosting over your skin, the garage quiet except for the distant hum of voices from the mansion.
"You gonna let me take you somewhere tonight?" Logan asked, tilting his head slightly.
You raised an eyebrow. "Somewhere like…?"
Logan shrugged. "Just a ride. No missions, no Scott breathin’ down your neck. Just us."
Your stomach flipped. You hadn’t had much alone time with him outside of stolen moments in your room or hidden corners of the mansion.
You hesitated for half a second before nodding. "Yeah. Alright."
Logan’s smirk widened. "Good girl."
Your face heated, but you ignored it, turning on your heel before he could say anything else. "I’ll meet you out here at eleven," you called over your shoulder.
"Don’t be late, sweetheart," he said, and you didn’t have to look back to know he was grinning.
---
The night air was cool against your skin as you stepped off the mansion’s back porch, your pulse quickening with every quiet step. You stuck to the shadows, moving with practiced ease—this wasn’t your first time sneaking out. But it was always a gamble. Always a risk.
Still, that didn’t stop the thrill from curling low in your stomach.
Logan was already waiting by his bike, leaning against it with his arms crossed, cigarette glowing faintly between his fingers. He exhaled, watching you with that familiar smirk—half amused, half something darker.
"Took you long enough," he muttered, flicking the cigar away.
“I said eleven," you shot back, coming to a stop in front of him. "It’s eleven."
Logan glanced at his watch like he didn’t believe you, then shrugged. "Close enough."
You rolled your eyes, but before you could say anything else, he grabbed the helmet from the handlebars and held it out. You hesitated for half a second before taking it, slipping it on as Logan swung a leg over the bike.
"Hop on, doll."
You did, settling in behind him, your arms wrapping around his waist automatically. He was warm, solid beneath your touch, the scent of leather and faint cigar smoke clinging to him.
"You gonna tell me where we're going?" you asked, voice slightly muffled behind the visor.
Logan reached down, gripping your thigh just enough to make you feel it. "Nope."
Your stomach flipped. Before you could push for an answer, the engine roared to life beneath you, and then you were moving—tearing down the quiet backroads, the wind rushing past, the world blurring into streaks of light and shadow.
You didn’t ask again. You just held on tighter.
---
Logan didn’t stop until you were well outside of town, pulling off onto a secluded dirt path surrounded by thick trees. The headlights cast long shadows against the trunks as he killed the engine. The night settled around you, quiet except for the faint hum of crickets and the cooling tick of the bike.
You pulled off the helmet, shaking out your hair before looking around. "This is either really romantic or the start of a horror movie."
Logan snorted, stepping off the bike. "Guess that depends on your definition of romantic."
You smirked, handing him the helmet as you stood. "So? What’s the plan, tough guy? You bringin’ me out here to bury a body?"
He huffed a laugh. "Nah. Just figured we could use some real privacy for once." He jerked his head toward a break in the trees. "C’mon."
You followed him down a small path, stepping carefully over the uneven ground. After a few minutes, the trees thinned out, revealing a stretch of open sky and a lake shimmering under the moonlight.
Your breath caught for half a second. You hadn't expected this.
Logan glanced at you, catching the look on your face. "Not bad, huh?"
You crossed your arms, pretending to consider. "It’s alright, I guess."
He smirked. "Brat."
You grinned but didn’t argue. Instead, you kicked off your shoes and stepped onto the wooden dock that stretched over the water, feeling the worn planks creak under your weight. Logan followed, hands in his pockets as he leaned against one of the wooden posts.
For a while, neither of you spoke. The air was crisp, the reflection of the stars rippling over the water’s surface. It was quiet. Peaceful. Something you didn’t get much of at the mansion.
Then Logan’s voice broke the silence. "You ever think about leavin’?"
You blinked, turning to him. "What?"
He kept his eyes on the water. "The mansion. The team. All of it."
You frowned. "Why would I?"
Logan let out a breath, running a hand through his hair. "Dunno. Just seems like sometimes you’re tryin’ to be somethin’ you ain’t."
You stared at him, caught off guard. "And what exactly do you think I am?"
Logan’s eyes finally met yours, something unreadable in them. "Someone who don’t belong in a cage. No matter how nice they make it look."
Your stomach twisted. You knew what he meant. The mansion was safe, sure. But it was also rules, expectations, eyes always watching. You’d built a life there. A good one. But was it really yours? Or was it just the one Scott expected you to have?
You swallowed, looking away. "And what about you?"
Logan tilted his head slightly. "What about me?"
"Do you ever think about leaving?" You asked.
A pause. "All the damn time."
Something about the way he said it made your chest ache.
You didn’t know what to say to that. So you didn’t say anything. Instead, you stepped closer, reaching for his hand. Logan let you take it, his fingers curling around yours automatically.
"You don’t have to stay, you know," you murmured. "If you really wanted to go."
Logan exhaled through his nose, shaking his head. "Yeah, doll. I do."
Your throat tightened. You knew what he meant. He wasn’t staying for the team.
He was staying for you.
For a moment, you just stood there, his hand warm in yours, the lake stretching out endless and quiet beneath the stars.
Then, finally, Logan smirked. "This is gettin’ a little too sentimental. You wanna go for a swim or somethin’?"
You snorted, shaking your head. "It’s freezing."
"So?"
You rolled your eyes. "You go first, tough guy."
Logan didn’t hesitate. He kicked off his boots, shrugged out of his jacket, and before you could even process what was happening—
Splash.
You gasped as water sprayed onto the dock, the surface rippling wildly where Logan had disappeared. You stared at the disturbance for half a second before Logan popped back up, slicking his hair back with both hands. "Water’s fine."
"You’re a liar," you laughed.
Logan grinned, then suddenly shot out an arm—grabbing your ankle.
"Logan—!"
Too late.
You yelped as he yanked, throwing you completely off balance. The last thing you saw before you hit the water was his smug, grinning face. The cold was a shock—freezing against your skin, stealing the breath from your lungs as you surfaced, gasping.
"You asshole!" you sputtered, shoving wet hair out of your face.
Logan just laughed, the deep sound echoing across the water. "You deserved it," he said, treading water.
"You’re dead," you threatened, lunging at him.
Logan dodged easily, still grinning. "Gotta catch me first, doll."
Oh, it was on now.
You lunged again, cutting through the water as fast as you could, but Logan was quick—too quick. He moved just out of reach every time, smirking like the smug bastard he was.
"That the best you got?" he taunted, backstroking away like he had all the time in the world.
You narrowed your eyes. "You realize I have powers, right?"
Logan’s smirk widened. "Then use ‘em, sweetheart. Let’s see what you got."
Oh, he was asking for it. You didn’t hesitate. You focused, letting energy pulse through your limbs, giving yourself a boost as you surged forward. Logan’s eyes barely had time to widen before you tackled him, sending both of you under the water.
Bubbles rushed around you, the muffled sound of movement filling your ears as you wrapped your arms around his shoulders, dragging him down with you. You knew he could hold his breath longer than you, but you weren’t planning on letting this turn into a real fight.
Instead, you twisted, using the momentum to flip him over so you were the one pinning him, hands braced against his shoulders. Even underwater, his smirk was there—amused, challenging.
You rolled your eyes and pushed off, breaking the surface first.
A second later, Logan popped up in front of you, shaking water from his hair. "Not bad," he admitted, voice rougher than usual from the cold. "Didn’t think you had it in you."
"Yeah, well, you underestimate me a lot," you shot back, treading water.
Logan’s smirk softened just a little. "Never."
Your breath hitched, pulse stuttering for a second, but before you could dwell on it, Logan moved—closing the distance between you in one smooth motion. His hands found your waist under the water, steady, warm despite the chill.
"You’re shivering," he murmured.
You rolled your eyes. "Because you threw me in a freezing lake, dumbass."
Logan huffed a quiet laugh, but instead of teasing you again, he just pulled you closer. The warmth of him was instant, the solid weight of his body pressing against yours. His hands slid up, fingers tracing along your ribs, your back. You swallowed, heartbeat thudding as his lips brushed against your temple, then down to the edge of your jaw.
"You wanna get out?" he murmured, voice low.
You nodded, but neither of you moved. Instead, Logan dipped his head, lips ghosting over yours, slow and teasing, like he was giving you a chance to pull away. Like he wanted you to.
But you didn’t. You closed the space, pressing your mouth against his, your fingers slipping into his wet hair as he kissed you back—deep, slow, like he had all the time in the world.
The water rocked around you, your bodies drifting, the night air cool against your skin. It was dangerous, reckless—standing there like this, kissing in the open where anyone could find you.
But you didn’t care.
Not tonight.
Eventually, Logan pulled back just enough to murmur against your lips, "C’mon, sweetheart. Let’s get you warmed up."
His smirk was back, but there was something else in his eyes now—something softer, something real.
You exhaled, nodding. "Yeah. Okay."
Logan didn’t let you go as he led you back toward the shore, his grip firm, steady. Like he wasn’t planning on letting go anytime soon.
a few things - one, reader's powers are energy manipulation. two, i think it's in the next part, but reader has a degree in something nature/environmental related. it's not heavily described though. anyways, enjoy part 2!
❀ part 2 ❀
Frank & Matt Parallels for @anna-hawk ❤️
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
it may take me a month to put out a chapter but at least im not using ai to write it.
IT MAY TAKE ME A MONTH TO PUT OUT A CHAPTER BUT AT LEAST IM NOT USING AI TO WRITE IT
Maybe I’m too busy being yours, to fall for someone new.
Poe Dameron x f!reader
Rated M- 5.7k
Divider by @/saradika
tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, use of nickname "Blue" for reader, strong language, physical fight (not with MMC), cheating (not by MMC or FMC), rival pilots, unprotected piv, cream pie, praise kink, yearning Poe, ass smacking, hair pulling, we love a reader in charge!
Authors Note: Hello! As I was writing this story, "We could be together, if you wanted to" has gained some traction, so thank you all for liking my work! This idea of a yearning and pining Poe hit me, so I had to make it happen. For context, in this story there are three squadrons with order importance, Black squad, Red Squadron and Blue Squadron. Black and Red squad work on high importance missions and are ranked 'higher' than Blue Squad, which leads you, dear reader, to the story! I hope you enjoy "Crawlin back to you" as it is spicier than the others, and I hope to update "On the run (with you)" soon! As usual, I haven't reread this, I just post and hope for the best. I hope you enjoy!
Thank you!
It was only meant to be a one time thing.
A one time thing a month ago.
You gasp as Poe’s lips attach to yours with fervor, his tongue sliding parting your lips as his hands roam underneath your long sleeve. Your legs wrap around his waist tightly, making it oh so easy to arch yourself against the growing hardness in his pants as presses you harder into the wall of his room.
Allegedly, Poe Dameron never spent the night more than once with a lover.
This was the third time this week you've met.
He pulls back, gasping for air before his lips attach to your neck, licking and sucking that sweet spot below your ear so harshly you almost came on the spot.
“Poe, wait-”
He pulls back immediately, his lust darkened eyes meeting yours eagerly. “What is it, baby?” He hums, rubbing his thumbs on the soft skin of your thighs as he waits for, honestly, anything you want.
You smile, shaking your head as your hands thread through the soft curls on his head. This was a dangerous game, you realized. He was someone you couldn't have, no matter how addictive he was.
“I have a flight maneuver early tomorrow, I should head back to my room.” You reply back, letting your fingers drift towards the hot skin of his neck one final team before lowering them to his chest, patting it gently. His hands gave you one last squeeze before he lowered you to the floor, taking a few seconds to pull your shirt down to where it normally sat.
He was sweet.
It was dangerous.
Poe smiles softly, almost bashfully, “Wouldn't want you to miss out on sleep.” He agrees, but his hand still lingers on your waist. One word and you could have another night of pleasure.
You nod, gently stepping away from him and gathering your pants from off the floor, quickly stepping into them as you move around his room to collect your few belongings. “I promise I didn't come here just for this, I swear I had an actual question-” You begin to ramble, suddenly feeling the need to explain yourself, why you showed up so late.
Maker, you have never acted like this before.
Poe shakes his head, moving to sit on his bed as he watches you move through his space. “It’s fine, I’m always glad to be of service to you.” He grins good naturedly, not a trace of sarcasm escaping him. You pause in front of him, mouth opening to say anything to relieve this tension between you both.
You come up empty.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You say softly, giving him a small wave, as if this man were just some regular pilot and not the man who gave you back to back orgasms just the night before. Poe chuckles softly, his head dropping forward before he begins to stand up, joining your side as you both move towards the door.
“Sure, Blue.” He responds softly, and you can feel his hand lingering on the small of your back as you step out of his room, the sensation burning into your skin as his touch so often did. You turn around to face him, to try and explain the visit again, but his eyes are already locked onto yours and stealing any words you could have formed from your mouth. The air between you was thick, electricity striking your body with every noise coming from around you in the living quarters. Poe bites his lip as he raises a hand to your face as if to cup your cheek, the motion so quick you barely had time to close your eyes before a small flick hits the end of your noise.
You let out a shocked gasp as he laughs.“Be safe tomorrow, okay? Don't do anything stupid like you usually do when you get stressed.” The bedroom door slides to a close before your eyes even open again. A huff of irritation leaves your lips at his childishness, but you can't help the smile on your face as you take the long walk back to your own quarters. Even within your living space, there was no tie to the man. His room is filled with posters and plans strewn about his floors. The thick smell of cologne that almost seemed to hover like its own atmosphere. His room was so like him, warm, well lived, and well loved. Your room was bare boned. A bed and desk. Stacks of files for missions and maps coordinating future attacks organized by dates on your dining table. Straightlaced and to the point. This was who you both were. Two entities that orbited around one another but never should have met.
This was how it should have stayed.
The admired Black Squadron leader.
The calculated Blue Squadron leader.
The Blue Squadron was only a few achievements short of being on equal par with your fellow Squadrons. Poe and the Black Squadron were the primary team for any rebellion led missions, Red following as second in command. Today was your first chance of the year to prove to the general your squad was more than capable of handling complex missions, to be given the same opportunities as the Black and Red Squadrons. Your team was ready, you had been practicing for months now, and you felt it was now or never to prove to the rebellion what an asset Blue Squadron is.
And you blew it.
It was a standard attack formation, one you had prepped for so many times before. One you could do in your sleep. Your fingers moved robotically as you adjusted your coordinates, your team flying perfectly behind you. Your hand skims over the edge of the tiller, and before you realize it, your mind is drawn back into a memory of the other night.
Poe lying beneath you, his chest heaving as he bites his knuckles, your hand squeezing at his length with nervousness as you tried to sink yourself down onto him. “You couldnt mess this up if you tried, baby.” He had said to you, his hand resting on the back of your neck as you moved hesitantly against him.
“I don't know, he didn't think I was good at this-” Your words are cut off as his lips sear into yours, his hand threading through your hair to crush your face to his. Your muffled gasp is replaced by a small moan as he sheaths himself into you, already hitting that sweet spot with ease.
“I dont give a fuck what he thought, youre perfect, Blue.” He had hissed, bucking his hips up harshly to draw out another whimper from you.”Say it.” Poe demands, gripping your hips as he plows into you from below, your hands holding onto his shoulders tightly as you nod.
“I’m perfect,” You whisper, trying to muffle your cries against his neck as the sound of your skin connecting reverberated through his quarters. Poe moans in encouragement and you have the desire to bottle up that sound for yourself.
“Fuck yes, y-your perfect baby, so perfect for me-” He gasps, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his breath begins to come out in shorter spurts. Poe leans forward, pressing hot kisses along your chest, biting into the soft flesh of your breasts. You cry out louder, your climax nearing at a rapid pace as he pounds into you.
“P-Poe, please-”
“Please what baby, where do you want me?”
Another thrust has your vision darkening, a buzz sounding in your ear as he fucks into you harder. It was stupid. This wasn't meant to happen again. Not after the first time. But you were always a sucker for complexities. You brush your lips against his jaw, kissing messily along his skin before whispering into his ear.
“I want you to finish in me, I want you to be the first.”
If Poe wasn't gone before, he was now. His thrusts grew harsher, his fingers bruising your hips as he slams into you, mumbling incoherently. “Fuck, you want me to cum in you so bad, my perfect girl-” He groans, moving one of his hands to your slick folds to rub hard and fast against you. A sharp scream leaves your throat and you topple against his chest, your body pulsing around him tightly as you reach your orgasm. You can feel the last few thrusts before hot spurts coat your insides, Poe whimpering as his head falls against your shoulder, his back heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You tilt your head back. Your eyes glazed over with satisfaction as you both ride out your high together. You let out a little laugh and his hand quickly smacks your ass, Poe’s muffled voice coming from below you.
“I’m sensitive, you sadist.” He growls, and now you can't help the tumble of laughter pouring out from you. Poe lifted his head to glare up at you, but in that moment, your smile was so bright he couldn't help but chuckle along with you.
You shake the memory from your head, your squadron already approaching the final bend sooner than you anticipated.
“Focus, Blue, focus.” You whisper to yourself, watching your squad carefully as you begin your turn. It was sharp, but even a rookie could get through this, and you soar through it with ease. Next was more difficult, but you had practiced, you knew the formation like the back of your hand by now. You carefully lock your X-wing in, breathing out slowly as you wait for the harsher turn. The mind was always so fickle, that's why you preferred equations and plans. You could feel yourself slipping back into that same memory, a heat pooling in your lower belly. Then you hear that maker's damned voice once more.
“One more baby, give me one more.-”
“My sweet girl, taking me so perfectly-”
“I could stay in you forever-”
A hard jolt shoved you deeper into your seat, your X-wing began losing altitude. Your squad's voices blaring through your comms, overwhelming your mind as you tried to straighten your ship.
“Squad leader-”
“You’ve been hit!”
“Land now-”
And as if your ego couldn't take enough of it, that same voice from your mind rings out, but this time unfortunately through your headset like the others.
“What the hell are you doing, Blue?!”
Your teeth grind together as you pull yourself back into place, barely registering the sound of the flight tower calling your squadron back to base. Everyone was down there. Everyone had seen.
Cold sweat began to drip down your neck as you carefully took the time to land your X-wing, mechanics quickly running over to assess the damage to the outside exterior. You huff as you climb down the ladder, shaking your hair out of your hemet and relishing in the open air as you struggle to take deep breaths. You can hear your crew clambering to get to you, and you can hear their questions already.
What happened?
What happened?
What happened?
“Blue, what happened?”
Your eyes snap up to meet those soft brown ones you had come to know so well. Poe was gripping your shoulders tightly, his fingers digging into you whether he noticed or not. Your relief at seeing him was short lived as you remembered just why you crashed.
“I’m fine, Dameron.” You snap, shaking his hands off of you. Poe looks at you first with worry, then agitation.
“Obviously you're not fine, Blue. You could do this course in your sleep and you crashed!” He hisses, clenching his hands at his side. You frown, and begin to respond before another set of hands grip your shoulder. You only needed one look at Poe's glowering face to know who it was. One you had done so well at avoiding until now.
Red One.
Poe's second in command.
“Hey, what happened up there? You okay?” He asks quickly, his eyes raking over your appearance.You force a smile, brushing him off with ease.
“Honest mistake, I was-” Your eyes flickered to Poes before returning to the helmet in your hand, “I was just distracted was all.”
Red One was born on a planet near yours, the commonality making you both acquaintances in flight school. You both studied vigorously, and desired high marks, yet somehow both of you were always beaten by the one named Poe Dameron. The three of you grew and eventually joined the rebellion, him and Dameron taking over the Black and Red Squadron while you were assigned Blue. Despite the large amount of rebellion members, it was easy for you to drift back to him, the reassurance of something familiar in your life. While Poe was off gallivanting with his squadron across the galaxy, you both worked together on unit tactics. It wasn't long before you both began to reach for one another, quick meaningless acts of pleasure when it was needed. It was easy for it to mean nothing to you, because you both knew this wasn't forever, but at least you had one another.
It worked then.
Until Poe came around again.
Poe was always smart, but he was also warm, and charismatic. People were drawn to him like the sun, wanting a chance to feel that splendor for themselves. Despite the fact everyone wanted to be around him, after a recent 5 month journey he had decided to follow only you around aimlessly.
“Dameron, don't you have someone else to bother?” You muttered, clutching new plans from the general tightly to your chest. Poe walked behind you with a grin, his hands carelessly tucked into his jacket pockets as he kept up with you.
“When was it a rule that I couldn't spend time with a fellow squadron leader?” He retorts, gently nudging your shoulder with his own. You let out an exhausted sigh, rounding the hallway corner into the row of living quarters right before yours. Maybe you thought you could evade him, you weren't sure, but what you didn't expect was the door nearest you to slide open with a smooth hiss, giving you a clear look into the room. You stop so abruptly Poe barely had time to avoid colliding with your back.
“What the fuck, Blue-” He complains before glancing down to your face. Your eyes stared blankly into the room, one you had become very familiar with over the years.
Red One’s, now occupied by the pilot himself and a mechanic you recognized from the Droid depot, clothes littering the floor as they cling to each other near the door. Red One's eyes widen and he curses, fumbling around to slip back into his flight suit.
Now normally, Poe would make a sly comment, or laugh off the awkwardness with ease. But he couldn't. Not when he saw the expression you were making. Despite his games and jokes, he knew you well. Poes fist tightened as he stalked into the room, shoving Red One back a step. “Now, why the fuck would you do this?” He growls darkly, his brown eyes darkening with rage. You weren't sure if you have ever seen Poe like this, not even after a failed mission. Poe never resorted to violence. Never.
You move quickly, stumbling forward to grab onto his arm, tugging him back. “It's fine Poe, it's not that serious-”
“Not that serious? He had the best damn pilot in the rebellion and it wasn't serious to him?” His words make you pause, heat rushing to your cheeks as you tighten your hand on Poe's arm, giving him one last tug.
“Blue, I can explain-”
“It's fine Red, we're going now.” You respond calmly, carefully dragging Poe out of the room until the door can slide shut. Poe tugs you along swiftly moving down hall after hall until you recognize the path to your own living space. Your hand was still on Poe’s arm, and you could feel his body shaking underneath.
“Poe, it’s fine-”
“How long were you two together?” He asks, his tone softer now than it was previously. You glanced up at him, his brown eyes soft once more as they bore down into your own. You blink quickly, thinking of just how many months it had been.
“Since our first mission to Nevarro.” You answer honestly, and you don't know what to think about the string of curses that leave his lips. “Why does it matter, Poe? It was just a fling-”
“Was it just a fling to you?” He asks suddenly, his gaze hot and piercing. You try to answer, to conjure up some response, but all you can do is shake your head. “We both got what he wanted, and I'm actually surprised he waited this long to find someone else.”
The look of anger that flashes across his face has your brows furrowing, unsure of why it bothered him so deeply. You open your mouth to speak again before Poe lets out a deep sigh, turning to face you fully as his back rests against the metal wall. His hand reaches up slowly, gently touching the soft skin of your cheek.
“Still, are you okay?” He asks in a gravelled tone, continuing to stroke your skin with small movements. His touch was far different from Reds, you quickly realized. Red touched you briskly, his hand roaming over your body as if you would disappear.
Poe touched you with reverence. He kept his movements small, keeping contact with your skin as if you were his center of gravity. “He's an idiot, Blue, you can do so much better than him. He can't even coordinate a landing path to Jakku without using a droid.” A surprised laugh tumbles past your lips, pleasing Poe as he stares down at you.
“And you can't fly a straight shot to Crait even if you tried.” You shoot back, a smile still tugging at your lips. Poe’s eyes soften as you laugh before him, your usual icy exterior melting away to that young pilot he once knew so many years ago. He takes a breath, biting his lip before he speaks in a soft whisper. “I would have made you my second, if it was my choice.”
You can't control the deep flush that rush to your cheeks as you hear him. “Red is a good second in command, I still have a lot to learn-”
“You think I don't know who drafts our tactile formations? I could practically see you solving the broken flight patterns while reading them.” His voice grows more firm, demanding you to accept his praise. “I can only be a good leader with someone like you supporting me, and I'm sorry they don't realize it yet.”
You don't cry. You don’t even cry as Poe leans in closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek as he coos words of praise to you in the dimly lit hallway. Red never acknowledged the work you did, smooth talking his way into putting his name on the plans alongside yours. You would shrug it off, under the impression if one Squadron succeeds surely the other would too. This never changed even when he began to take more missions farther out into the galaxy, while you and your squad stayed back, waiting for the chance to chart your own paths.
The truth now laid out so plainly in front of you.
You had been used.
What did you want? Had you wanted Red to choose you? Only you? Did you ever even think you would have options?
Your hands tighten into fists, sharp pain shooting through your hands. Poe pulls back with a lazy smile on his face, but it quickly falters as he sees the scowl etched onto your face. “Hey what's wrong Blue, did I overstep? I’m sorry-”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Poe's mouth hangs open as your words hit his ears, sending palpitations straight to his chest. “You want me to…”
“I want you to fuck me, yes.”
Poe can't help but chuckle as he shakes his head, his hand covering his face as he inhales deeply. “You don't want that, Blue, you're just mad and understandably so-”
“I am choosing this, Poe Dameron, I am choosing you to make me feel something. I know it's just a one time thing with you, I want one night”
Well, now this was an interesting statement.
This he could work with.
Poe tries to quell the smile tugging at his lips as he leans back, knocking his fingers on the cool metal wall as if it could cool down the heat racing through him. “Just one? I'm afraid you'll end up wanting more, Blue.” He murmurs, taking the chance to glance back down at you. Your eyes meet his, fiery and unwavering. Maker, you meant it. Poe tried to stifle the groan threatening to spill out of him.
“One night, I just want one night.” You promise, stepping in even closer to him. With one deep breath, your chest would rub against his, and you tried to ignore the shaky breaths emitting from the man before you.
“But I want to set some ground rules first.” You say in a soft voice, moving your hand so it begins to trail up his arm. Poe can only nod as he stared down at you, captivated by your movements.
“This happens in your room, I don't need you making a mess of my space.” Poe can't help the snort that leaves his mouth, but he nods his head anyways. “Two, I want to be in charge.” You were proud of how little your voice wavered as you spoke, “I get to decide how this goes.”
Your words make Poe's jaw twitch. How often did you get what you wanted with Red?
“I promise I will be your devoted servant.” He agrees, reaching for your hand and pulling it to his lips, placing a slow and sensual kiss on your pulse.
Maker, this was going to be harder than you thought.
“This is a one time thing, we don’t acknowledge it after, and we dont let it change our working relationship.”
Poe's throat only constricts a little before he nods, “Of course.” He drops your hand gently, waiting for you.
Now Poes stares at you with a burning look in his gaze, his jaw clenched as he stares between you and Red One.
“Distracted? Blue, you could have hurt yourself.” He hisses, running a hand through his hair in an irritated manner. You frown, noticing the crowd gathering around you all now.
“It was a mistake, a stupid one, but I’m fine-”
“Maybe if you weren't so busy sleeping with our Squad leader you wouldn't have messed up.” The insult stabs through your chest. You turn slowly to face Red One, a grim look on his face as he sighs before continuing, “I really thought you were smarter than this Blue, you really couldn't wait for me to explain what happened before you just moved on to the next available guy who would fuck you-”
You honestly aren't sure who moved first. One minute your hearing began to ring, your heart thundering in your chest, and then here you were, standing over a bleeding Red. Your fist felt like it was on fire but honestly, you didn't care. Then you feel Poe’s arms wrap around your waist, tugging you back as people begin to shout, surging in to watch the scene.
“All those years I spent underneath you were absolute shit compared to what Poe’s made me feel in one month-” You spit out, years of rage boiling over as you watch Red sit up, his hand shakily touching the blood pouring out of his nose. “And I hope you can prove you know how to draft a mission plan because I’m going first thing tomorrow to get your name removed from all of my work, my work.” You seeth, tugging against Poe's grip one last time. You can feel his face near yours, his nose gently running along your cheek as he squeezes your arms gently. “Let's get out of here, Blue.” He whispers, and you nod, giving Red one last glare before moving through the parting crowd. You swear you can almost hear cheers as you and Poe enter the flight squads quarters, shutting yourself off from the rest of the world.
You feel yourself enter a room, and you finally feel the world unblurring as you realize Poe brought you back to your own quarters. You can feel him gently pull at your clothes, removing your flight suit with great care, reaching into your drawers to find some comfortable clothes he slips onto your body without an ounce of alternative means. A sudden hiss leaves your lips as he bumps his hand against your injured one, and he quickly moves you to your bed. He curses before you, kneeling between your legs as he tentatively grabs your hand, assessing the broken skin on your knuckles.
“Shit baby, you got him good.” He smiles, taking a clean rage and gently dabbing at the bloodied wounds. You wince and he immediately pulls back, waiting for you to let him continue.
“I shouldn't have hit him,” you mumble, biting your lip as he hits another painful spot, “I’ll probably get written up.”
Poe snorts, shaking his head. “I dont it won't be any worse than what he's gonna get. Plagiarizing plans? Falsifying records? He's lucky if the general even lets him get drinks for us.” You can't help the laugh that tumbles out of your throat, nodding along to his words. He quickly wraps your hand in a simple bandage, just tight enough to keep your hand from throbbing. You meet Poe’s gaze as he looks up at you, crouched between your legs with a serene look on his face.
“What?” you ask softly, gripping your sheets with your other hand. Poe just shakes his head, “So, I've given you a better month than he could in years?”
You groan as you drop your head to his shoulder, embarrassment flooding your senses. “I didn't mean to say that in front of everyone.” Poe just laughs, letting his hands run up and along your thighs.
“It was pretty hot to see you claim me in front of everyone like that, baby.” He smiles, gently using his hands to lift your face so he can look at you. You flush brightly, your eyes unable to look anywhere else but his gaze. “Im sorry, I'm sure that was uncomfortable for you-”
Poe shakes his head, his nose brushing along yours. “You still don't get it, huh?” Before you can speak again he pushes the two of you up and back, laying you down onto your bed as he hovers over you. “I want to be yours, Blue, I think in some way I always have been.” He says softly, intertwining your hands together as he presses them beside your head. “I've slept with people, yes, but none could get you off my mind.” His lips gently trail down your neck, biting and kissing at your skin. You gasp, your body reacting so easily for him. “You were always there, since flight school, in my mind, always competing with me. Then I leave, and I come back to tell you-” He carefully slips his hand under the edge of your shirt, feeling your skin with a gentle touch.
As if he can't believe this is still happening.
“I come back and see you look at him like that, and I would have supported you baby I would have, but-” He hisses as your body arches against him, brushing together as heat begins to flood your body. “Lucky for me he was an idiot.” Is all Poe can say as you crash your lips to his, gripping his jaw tightly as you angle him in closer to deepen the kiss. “Fuck, I can only ever think about you Blue-” He gasps as your hand trails in between you, running your fingers along the seams of his length. “I only want to think about you, I want to be yours forever-” He rambles on, your hand moving rhythmically against him as you listen to him beg. His words fill your chest as he speaks, so plainly yet undoubtedly true.
“Poe?” You say softly, watching as his eyes open to find yours, dark and glazed over with lust, but his attention undivided. You smile softly, only slowing your movements ever so slightly as you take a breath to speak. “I'm yours.” You whisper softly, your smile widening as you see his eyes begin to water. You gasp as you tugged up, pressed against his chest as he buries his face into your neck, holding you impossibly tight.
“Fuck, Blue, I almost didn’t last when I heard you say that.” Poe grumbles, and you laugh loudly as your hands pull his hips to yours.
“We're just getting started, Dameron, I can't have you tapping out so early.” You grin, letting your hands snake up the bros expanse of his back to caress his head. An idea strikes you as you hold on to one another, your hands running along the carved muscles of his body.
“Poe?” You ask softly, turning your head to look at him as he pulls back slightly from your neck. “Can we try something?”
His smile is lethal.
“How do you want me, baby?”
You carefully pull back from his embrace, eyeing him playfully as you turn onto your hands and knees, movings towards the headboard with a sway to your hips, Poe’s eyes practically glow with desire, and you feel his hand run along your spine, gripping your hips dangerously before you grab onto the headboard, arching yourself against him. You can feel his chest contracting behind you, his hands moving to your hips instinctively. You loved this, feeling so crowded by his body and scent.
Poe wasted no time in shucking down your pants, tilting your head to meet his lips in a fiery kiss as the cool air of your room blows against your exposed lower body. You reach a hand behind you, finding the edge to his pants and working to pull them down, releasing his cock between the both of you.
With a practiced precision, Poe sheathes himself into you, a satisfied gasp leaving your lips. You can already feel the headboard creaking under your grasp, but you don't care.
“Shit, baby, I'm not gonna last long-” He pants, kissing your neck while giving you another small thrust. He leaves one hand on your waist as the other snakes to your slick folds, teasing you gently as you let out another moan. “I don’t care, just fuck me Poe, please-” You whine out, pushing yourself against him with need. You gasp as you feel a sharp slap to your clit, only making you infinitely wetter.
“I’m going to take my time fucking my girl.” He growls, and pulls you in for another thrust. Your face turns towards the board, hot pants of air escaping you as he thrust into you from below, perfectly hitting that spot within you that makes your toes curl with pleasure. He leans forward, wrapping a hand over yours as he fucks you into the headboard, his other hand tightening on your hip as he slams into you.
“My beautiful girl, so wet for me. Do you like making me so hungry for you? Driving me wild seeing you so lost in pleasure? Absolutely drenching my cock?” His words almost send you over the edge alone, only capable of giving him a choked sob in reply.
He fucks into you mercilessly, grinding himself against you with every thrust, his own orgasm approaching as quickly as yours. “Fuck, baby, you were made for me, never gonna let you go-” You feel him shake as he begins to unload into you, his hand rubbing tirelessly over your clit and quickly sending you over the edge into your own pleasure.
“Fuck!” You cry out, shaking as he continues to thrust into you, emptying himself entirely. The room is filled with pants as you both lean against each other, your hands trembling as you use the headboard to hold yourself up. You feel so impossibly full. You shift gently, feeling his body tense behind you as his head rests in the crook of your neck.
“Still with me, Dameron?” You smile, turning your head to gently press a kiss to his temple. You can feel him smile against your skin, placing his own soft kiss on your shoulder. “Always, baby.” He whispers back softly, lifting his head to gaze at you with pure adoration. You eventually separate, slinking down into your bed wrapped in each other's embrace. Any other clothes were shed, the need for urgency long behind you both as you tak in these moments of being utterly at peace.
You rest your head on his chest, your eyes drifting close as you listen to the steady beat of his heart. “Poe?” you ask softly, running your hand along his sternum. You can feel him shift, knowing he was looking down at you.
“Yeah, sweet girl?” He asks gently, running a hand through your hair and you swear you are in heaven.
“When did you realize you liked me? You…we, we’ve just been together for so long and I never realized.” You ask, turning your head up to look at him easier. Poe smiles, so easy and carefree, and just shrugs.
“Maybe always?”
You swat at his chest, a chuckle rumbling in him as he grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to your pulse. “Be serious!” You scold, but the smile on your face tells him all he needs to know.
“I am serious. It was always you.”
Your smile only grows softer as you listen to him, your hand continuing to rub small circles onto his skin. “I’m sorry I took so long to realize it.” You whisper to him, reaching up to rub his jaw. Poe grins and moves over you, flipping you both until he rests on top of you. He surges forward, kissing you as if you had all the time in this world. You both stay close, his nose brushing against yours as you gaze into each other's eyes. Poe speaks, whispering into your ear, and you know he means it.
“I would have waited forever for you”
back in my mando era
Hello, thank you so much for wanting to read my stories! Here is a list of what I've written so far for you to navigate.
STAR WARS:
I'm on the run (with you) | Din Djarin x f!reader [series]
Part 1 / Part 2 / Part 3
We could be together, if you wanted to | Din Djarin x f!reader [oneshot]
Crawlin back to you | Poe Dameron x f!reader [one shot]
I'd wanna hold you (just for the night) | Poe Dameron x f!reader [series]- (part 1) (part 2)
WORKS IN PROGRESS:
Divider by @/saradika
All fanfic writers are hot.
— love language
chapter summary: You and Matt are now dating, but you haven't told anyone. How long will it take your friends to notice?
word count: 3.4k+
pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader
notes: i had this idea after writing goodnight n go (which is technically the first part, but you don't need to read it to understand this). anyways, here's a bunch of fluff
warnings/tags: after endgame but date is not specified, best friends to lovers, reader works at stark industries, matt is a cocky little shit, making out
Things moved on normally, the only thing that had changed in the past month was that you two weren’t just friends but dating.
You didn’t realize it, but you were already quite close to Matt.
Matt chuckled, his arm hooked around yours as the two of you waited in line for coffee. “Really?” He asked sarcastically.
“Ugh.” You elbowed him. “You’re an ass.”
“I’m just saying, what kinda friends have a toothbrush at their place?” He tapped his cane against the floor lightly.
You tilted your head. “Uhhh… pretty sure at one point Foggy had a toothbrush at your place.”
“That he never used other than one time.”
You scoffed, nudging his side again. "Still counts."
Matt smirked. "Does it?"
"Yes, because that means I’m not the weird one here. You just have a habit of letting people leave their stuff at your place."
Matt tilted his head slightly, feigning thoughtfulness. "Interesting theory. Except you’re the only person whose toothbrush has stayed."
You opened your mouth to argue, then paused, realizing he was right. "Okay, fine, but that’s only because—"
"You stay over all the time?"
You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You’re impossible."
"And yet, here you are," he teased, squeezing your arm lightly before stepping forward to order.
---
Foggy opened the door to Matt’s office. “Hey, did you ever finish the deposition for the Martin case?”
Matt put down the fork to his Pad Thai, leaving it in the Styrofoam container. “Yeah, I did.”
You took the opportunity, snatching the fork from his container and stealing a bite of his Pad Thai. Matt huffed, but you could hear the amusement in it.
"Really?" he murmured.
"You put it down," you said, chewing. "That means it's fair game."
Foggy barely glanced up from the papers in his hand. "She’s got a point, Matt. You know the rules."
Matt exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he blindly reached for the fork still in your grip. You dodged, keeping it out of his reach as you took another bite.
Foggy flipped a page. "Anyway, judge pushed the hearing back a week, which is good because it gives us time to go over the new witness statement. Karen’s taking a look at it now."
Matt hummed in acknowledgment, still trying to reclaim his fork. You smirked, shifting slightly in his lap. He retaliated by sliding an arm around your waist, pinning you in place.
"You gonna give that back?" he murmured.
"Maybe," you teased, holding it just out of reach.
Foggy sighed, still not looking up. "If you two devolve into a full-on fork battle, at least take it outside. I don’t need Pad Thai in the depositions."
Matt smirked, finally managing to grab the utensil from your grip. "Noted."
You huffed but didn’t move, resting your elbow on his shoulder instead. "Fine. I got what I wanted anyway."
Matt chuckled, shaking his head as he twirled the fork back into his food.
Foggy snapped the folder shut. "Alright, well, since you two seem busy, I’ll go see if Karen needs help."
"Let us know if you need anything," Matt said easily.
"Yeah, yeah," Foggy muttered, already halfway out the door.
---
Josie’s was loud and crowded as always, but at this point it was like a second home. You were telling Karen about an incident in the lab. “—Levi somehow hooks the string around the sprinkler and pulls. I get an alert on my tablet and rush over to the lab. Turns out, when he pulled the sprinkler, he also pulled part of the main water line. All for a tiny qubit that got stuck on the ceiling.”
Karen snorted, shaking her head. "Please tell me this guy got fired."
"Nope," you said, sipping your drink. "Because technically, it worked. The qubit came loose. He just, y’know… flooded half the floor in the process."
Karen groaned. "God, Stark Industries sounds like a nightmare sometimes."
"You have no idea," you muttered, setting your glass down.
As you kept talking, you felt your shirt strap slide down your shoulder. It wasn’t anything major, just a slight shift, but before you could adjust it yourself, Matt did it for you.
His hand found your shoulder with ease, fingers brushing your skin as he hooked the strap with two fingers and guided it back into place. It was quick, thoughtless, something he’d probably done a hundred times before without even realizing.
Karen barely blinked.
You didn’t think much of it either, continuing on. "Anyway, Levi tried to convince me it was an 'engineering breakthrough' and that 'technically' he proved a new method of remote retrieval—"
"You’re kidding," Karen deadpanned.
"Oh, I wish."
Matt smirked beside you, listening quietly. His arm was resting along the back of your chair, close but not overbearing.
Karen leaned forward, taking another sip of her drink. "So what’d you do?"
You grinned. "Told him if he ever did that again, I’d make sure the next thing he got stuck was his own head in the centrifuge."
Karen burst out laughing. "And let me guess—he immediately backed down."
"Pretty much," you said smugly.
Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are terrifying sometimes."
"And yet, here you are," you teased, echoing the same words you’d said to him earlier that morning.
Matt tilted his head slightly, smirk deepening. "Guess I have a thing for danger."
Karen rolled her eyes but didn’t comment. She was too used to the way you two interacted, and nothing about tonight seemed different from any other night.
---
“You didn’t have to come.” Matt murmured, as your hands combed through his hair. “It’s just a mugging case.”
“And yet,” you pulled your hands away. “You were goin’ to walk in there with hair like that.” You gave him a grin. “I helped you devil boy. Oh, wait.”
You pulled his red-lensed glasses off before cleaning them with your shirt. Matt huffed, tilting his head slightly. "You know, most people don’t manhandle my things without permission."
"Most people aren’t me," you shot back, flipping the glasses open and sliding them back onto his face.
Matt’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue.
Foggy sighed from beside you. "How do you two have time for this while standing outside a courtroom?"
Karen smirked, arms crossed. "Multitasking."
You grinned. "Exactly. I’m helping him and annoying him at the same time."
Matt let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You really do take your job seriously."
"Obviously."
Before Foggy could reply, the courtroom doors opened, and the previous case let out, lawyers and reporters filing into the hallway. The four of you straightened slightly as Matt rolled his shoulders, settling into courtroom mode.
"Alright," Matt murmured, adjusting his tie. "Let’s get this over with."
You reached out instinctively, running a hand down the front of his suit, smoothing the fabric. "You’re good."
Matt caught your wrist before you could pull away, his thumb brushing over your pulse for just a second longer than necessary. “You going to stay?”
“Yep. I’ll be sittin’ in the front row looking pretty.”
Foggy snorted. "Sittin’ pretty? That’s your plan?"
"Someone’s gotta balance out Matt’s whole intimidating blind lawyer thing," you teased, adjusting your bag over your shoulder.
Matt smirked. "Intimidating, huh?"
"You know what you do," you muttered, patting his chest once before stepping back.
Karen chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, let’s get in there before we miss the good part."
The courtroom was already filling up when you and Karen slipped into the front row, Matt and Foggy making their way to the bench. You crossed one leg over the other, leaning back slightly as you pulled your phone from your bag, muting notifications.
"You know, sometimes I forget you don’t actually work for them," Karen mused, watching as you settled in.
You glanced at her. "Why?"
Karen shrugged. "You’re here so often, always involved in their cases, bringing them food, making sure Matt doesn’t walk into court looking like he just crawled out of a dumpster—"
"Hey," you cut in. "I don’t make him look good. He just listens to me when I tell him to fix his tie."
Karen smirked, tilting her head. "Mhm."
You rolled your eyes, looking toward the front of the courtroom. Matt and Foggy were talking in hushed tones, Foggy flipping through a stack of papers while Matt leaned slightly toward him, nodding at something he said.
Karen was still watching you, but you ignored her.
The judge entered, and the room settled as the proceedings began.
---
The hearing wasn’t long, but it was long enough for you to notice Karen sneaking glances at you every so often. You didn’t say anything, keeping your focus on the case.
Matt and Foggy handled it well, as expected. You knew Matt’s confidence in the courtroom was unmatched, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes behind the red lenses, you knew he was completely locked in, analyzing every shift in the judge’s tone, every heartbeat in the room.
By the time the judge adjourned the hearing, you were stretching slightly, rolling your shoulders as you stood.
Matt and Foggy approached, gathering their things. "Well," Foggy said, stuffing papers into his briefcase. "That went about as well as it could’ve."
Matt hummed in agreement. "We should have a decision in a few days."
Karen exhaled. "That was exhausting to watch, so I can’t imagine how you two feel."
Matt smiled. "Used to it."
You reached out, fixing the fold of his pocket square before he could tuck his cane under his arm. "You did good."
Matt turned his head toward you slightly, smirk playing at his lips. "Yeah?"
You huffed. "Yeah, Murdock. Try not to look so smug about it."
Foggy raised a brow, gaze flickering between the two of you for a second. Karen, too, was watching, something unreadable in her expression.
Neither of them said anything.
"Alright," Foggy finally broke the silence, snapping his briefcase shut. "Lunch? Please? I need food after all that legal jargon."
"Agreed," Karen said.
You nodded. "Sounds good to me."
Matt tapped his cane against the floor once, falling into step beside you. Karen shot one last glance between the two of you but still said nothing.
---
You pulled out an expired container of milk. “Matty, I seriously don’t know how you, of all people, didn’t notice you had 2-week expired milk in your fridge.”
Matt smirked from where he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "You think I make a habit of sniffing my milk cartons?"
You made a face, waving the expired container in his direction. "Considering you should be able to smell the rotting dairy in your fridge? Yeah, actually, I do."
Matt huffed a quiet laugh, stepping forward as you popped the lid open and took an experimental sniff—only to gag immediately.
"Jesus Christ," you muttered, shoving the carton at him. "Smell it. I dare you."
Matt wrinkled his nose, taking a slight step back. "I’ll pass."
"Uh-huh, that’s what I thought." You shut the carton and tossed it in the trash before opening the fridge again. "When’s the last time you actually bought groceries?"
Matt leaned against the counter, lips twitching. "Don’t know. You usually do it for me."
You shot him a look over your shoulder. "That’s not the win you think it is, Murdock."
"I don’t know," he murmured, stepping behind you, hands settling at your waist. "Feels like a win to me."
Your breath hitched as he leaned in slightly, lips brushing just behind your ear. You huffed, pushing him back lightly with your elbow. "No, you don’t get to distract me. Your fridge is a disaster."
Matt let out a quiet chuckle but didn’t let go entirely. "I’ve survived this long."
"Yeah, because I keep you alive," you muttered, pulling out a sad-looking bag of spinach and holding it up for him. "This? This is a crime."
Matt smirked. "Pretty sure I deal with actual crimes for a living."
"You’re so lucky you’re cute." You tossed the bag onto the counter with a sigh. "Alright, that’s it. We’re going grocery shopping."
"You say that like I have a choice."
"You don’t," you said, shutting the fridge and turning in his arms.
Matt smiled, fingers brushing over your hip before he dropped his hands. "At least let me buy you dinner after."
You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Bribing me with food?"
"Wouldn’t be the first time."
You rolled your eyes, but the smirk you tried to suppress still made its way onto your lips. "Fine. But you’re carrying all the bags."
"Deal," Matt murmured, reaching for his cane.
You grabbed your coat, glancing at him as he adjusted his watch. "And I’m making sure you don’t buy anything that will expire in two days."
Matt chuckled. "Now that’s just cruel."
---
The grocery store was relatively quiet for a Friday night, the kind of late-evening lull where the only customers were people grabbing last-minute dinner ingredients or, in Matt’s case, replacing an entire fridge’s worth of expired food.
You pushed the cart while Matt walked beside you, his hand resting lightly at the crook of your elbow. "Alright, first things first," you said, steering the cart toward the produce section. "You’re getting actual vegetables. Not just things that used to be vegetables before they died a slow, tragic death in your fridge."
Matt smirked. "I resent that."
"You resent having to eat vegetables," you shot back, picking up a head of lettuce and tossing it into the cart.
Matt tilted his head slightly, like he was considering. "That might be true."
You sighed dramatically. "It’s like taking a toddler shopping."
"You did sign up for this," Matt pointed out, casually trailing his fingers over the display of apples as he passed.
You side-eyed him. "Did I? I don’t remember agreeing to supervise you."
"You knew what you were getting into," he teased, reaching past you to grab an apple and setting it in the cart.
"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, adding a few more. "What else do you need? Other than everything."
Matt hummed, fingers tapping lightly against the handle of the cart. "Bread. Eggs. Coffee."
"Obviously," you muttered, already steering the cart in that direction.
As you walked, Matt’s hand slid from your elbow to your wrist, fingers idly tracing over your pulse before his hand found yours, linking your fingers together like it was nothing.
You squeezed his hand slightly. "If you think holding my hand is gonna distract me from making you buy actual groceries, you’re wrong."
Matt huffed a quiet laugh, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Worth a shot."
"Mm-hmm," you mused, scanning the shelves as you walked. You paused near the coffee aisle, reaching for a bag of Matt’s usual blend.
"That one’s good," Matt said, nodding toward it.
You smirked, holding up a different one just to mess with him. "What about this one?"
Matt tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "That one’s decaf."
Your lips parted in mock surprise. "Wow. Look at that. Guess you do pay attention to your groceries."
Matt exhaled a laugh, leaning in slightly. "I pay attention to you."
Your stomach flipped, but you covered it with an eye roll, tossing his usual coffee into the cart before dragging him toward the next aisle.
---
By the time you made it to the checkout, the cart was full. Probably more food than Matt had ever willingly bought for himself.
"You’re never gonna finish all this," he mused as you unloaded onto the conveyor belt.
"You will if you actually cook," you shot back. "And don’t tell me you can’t. I’ve seen you do it."
Matt smirked, handing the cashier his card before you could stop him. "Guess I have no choice now."
You squinted at him. "That sounds suspiciously like a challenge."
Matt tilted his head. "Maybe it is."
You grinned. "Alright, Murdock. Guess I’ll be the judge of whether or not you can actually cook."
Matt chuckled, grabbing the grocery bags as the cashier finished bagging them. "I did offer to buy you dinner."
You crossed your arms. "I thought we were talking restaurant dinner, not Murdock’s Mystery Kitchen dinner."
Matt smirked, shifting the bags in his hands. "I never specified."
You rolled your eyes but reached out, grabbing a couple of bags from him. "Fine. But if you burn anything, I’m taking over."
"Noted," Matt said, leaning in just slightly. "But I wouldn’t underestimate me, sweetheart."
You huffed, shoving a bag at him before walking toward the door. "We’ll see about that, devil boy."
---
“Where’s my shirt? You know, the soft blue one with a star embroidered on it?”
Matt, who was sitting on the couch, fingers tracing a braille legal document, tilted his head. “…Where are your clothes?”
“My—that’s what I’m asking you.” You replied, hands on your hips, leaning against his bedroom door.
Matt’s lips twitched, setting the braille document down on the coffee table. He turned his head slightly, his attention fully on you now. "You’re asking me where your clothes are?"
"Yes, Matty." You sighed, crossing your arms. "I took a shower, and now I can’t find my damn shirt. The soft blue one? The one with the star embroidered on it?"
Matt hummed, pushing himself up from the couch, his movements slow, deliberate. "And you think I did something with it?"
"You have a habit of stealing my clothes," you pointed out. "So yes, you’re my prime suspect."
Matt smirked, stepping toward you. "Interesting accusation, sweetheart."
You didn’t flinch as he closed the distance, his fingers barely brushing along your forearm, trailing up to your shoulder before settling against your jaw.
"You’re not wearing any clothes."
You rolled your eyes. "I am wearing clothes. Just not the ones I want."
Matt exhaled a quiet chuckle, tilting his head slightly. "Bra and underwear don’t count."
"Tell that to every guy who’s ever seen a Victoria’s Secret ad," you muttered.
Matt grinned. "Is that what this is? A show?"
You huffed, lightly swatting at his chest. "You’re impossible."
"And yet, here you are," he teased, echoing your words from earlier, his fingers still lazily tracing the edge of your jaw.
You narrowed your eyes but didn’t pull away. "Are you gonna help me find my shirt or not?"
Matt’s lips twitched. "I’m starting to think you just wanted an excuse to walk around like this."
You scoffed. "Matty, if I wanted to walk around half-naked in your apartment, I would. I don’t need an excuse."
Matt grinned. "Good to know."
You rolled your eyes, stepping back. "So are you gonna help or—"
Before you could finish, Matt turned toward his dresser, fingers trailing over the top before he grabbed something and held it out.
Your missing shirt.
Your jaw dropped. "You knew where it was this whole time?"
Matt shrugged. "You left it here last week. I thought it was mine."
You squinted at him. "Since when do you own a soft blue shirt with a star embroidered on it?"
Matt smirked. "I don’t, but you leave your stuff here so often, I figured it was fair game."
You snatched it from his hands. "Unbelievable."
Matt huffed a laugh, crossing his arms. "You gonna put it on, or do I get to keep enjoying the view?"
You shot him a look, but the heat in his voice sent something warm curling in your stomach. You turned away, slipping the shirt over your head, and when you glanced back, Matt was still smirking.
"Happy now?" you muttered.
Matt hummed, stepping closer again. "Not yet."
Before you could respond, he leaned in, catching your chin between his fingers before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.
When he pulled back, his smirk deepened. "Now I’m happy."
You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your heart was hammering in your chest. "You’re ridiculous."
"And you love it."
You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue.
---
It was late at night when Matt convinced you to stay. Foggy and Karen were out of the office for the night, leaving just you and Matt doing your separate work.
The office was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of paper and the distant hum of the city outside.
You were perched on Matt’s couch, cross-legged, a set of blueprints spread across your lap while he sat at his desk, reading over a case file. Neither of you spoke, lost in your own work, but there was a comfortable ease to it.
"Are you even getting anything done over there?" Matt asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
You didn’t look up. "Are you?"
He hummed. "I was. Until I realized how unfair this is."
You sighed, already knowing where this was going. "What’s unfair, Matty?"
"You get to sit all comfy on my couch, while I’m stuck here, hard at work."
You snorted. "Hard at work, huh? I didn’t realize whining counted as work."
Matt pushed his chair back, standing slowly. "I think I deserve a break."
You barely glanced up. "Then take one. I’m actually doing something productive."
Matt made his way toward you, hands in his pockets. "Are you?"
You narrowed your eyes, lifting a brow. "Yes. Unlike some people, I have deadlines to meet."
Matt hummed, stepping in front of you. "And yet, you’re still here. With me."
"Because you asked me to stay," you reminded him, flipping a page. "You coerced me."
Matt smirked. "Did I?"
"Yes, you—hey!"
In one swift motion, Matt plucked the blueprints from your lap and set them aside. Before you could protest, he leaned down, hands bracketing your sides as he caged you against the couch.
"Take a break with me, angel," he murmured.
You exhaled, glaring up at him. "You are so—"
Whatever insult you had lined up died in your throat as Matt leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw. His lips brushed over your pulse, deliberate, teasing.
"Annoying?" he murmured.
You swallowed hard. "Distracting."
Matt grinned against your skin. "Mm. I’ll take that."
Your fingers curled around his tie, tugging slightly. "You are so lucky I like you."
Matt chuckled, dipping his head until his lips were just barely grazing yours. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
You closed the distance, kissing him properly.
Matt exhaled against your lips, deepening it immediately. His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You barely noticed when he guided you backward, until the edge of his desk dug into your lower back.
"Matty," you murmured between kisses.
"Mm?"
"I thought we were taking a break."
"This is my break," he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.
You huffed a quiet laugh, threading your fingers into his hair. "Productive."
Matt grinned against your skin, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt. "You’re the one distracting me, sweetheart."
You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. His lips trailed back up, capturing yours again in a kiss that left your head spinning.
Neither of you noticed the sound of the front door opening.
At least, you didn’t.
Matt either didn’t hear it, or—more likely—just didn’t care.
"Hey, Matt, I left my phone—"
Foggy’s voice cut through the air like a record scratch.
You froze.
Matt, however, barely reacted. His lips left yours just enough for him to let out a quiet sigh—like he was annoyed—before pressing one last kiss to your jaw.
"Should’ve knocked, Fog," he murmured.
Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t dare turn around. Foggy, for his part, just stood there. Silent. Karen was the one to break it. "Uh."
You exhaled sharply, tilting your head back against the desk. "Jesus Christ."
Matt still didn’t move. He just turned his head slightly in their direction. "You left your phone?"
Foggy blinked. "Yeah." A beat. "But now I kinda wanna leave it here forever."
Karen coughed, her voice tight with suppressed laughter. "Should we leave?"
You groaned, covering your face with your hands.
Matt just smirked. "You could, but I doubt you will."
Karen cleared her throat. "Y’know what? I suddenly really need a drink."
"Yeah, me too," Foggy muttered, grabbing his phone off the desk and speed walking toward the door.
Karen cast one last glance between the two of you, shaking her head before following. The second the door shut behind them, you finally shoved Matt away.
"You knew they were coming, didn’t you!?"
Matt grinned, shrugging. "You said it yourself—I have a habit of coercing you."
You gaped at him. "Murdock."
He just leaned in again, lips ghosting over your ear. "You gonna finish what you started, angel?"
Your face burned. "I started!?"
Matt chuckled, nudging his nose against yours.
"You’re impossible," you muttered, still flustered.
"And yet," Matt murmured, smirking, "here you are."
Surprise.
Last post of the year ofc needs to be my beloved father and son duo 💚 Happy New Year chat! 💚
Star wars men you will always be famous, i’m in love with them.
𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚎• 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 • twenties • 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦[18+ only]Header by @/saradika
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