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notsoverymerry · 2 months ago

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Boyfriend (j.yh x reader)

summary: You can't believe you're dating Yunho. Others can't either.

genre/warnings: smut, unprotected sex (please use protection!), fluff, use of pet-names a/n: let me know literally anything about this :) word count ~3.6k

You were dating Jeong Yunho; you really were.

You went on dates, held hands, kissed, and said the cheesiest, most sweetest, tooth-rotting things to each other. All the time. And yet, none of the boys had caught up. By some mysterious miracle or rather an ominous curse, guys and the staff have considered you two to be just really good friends. You could've screamed love proclamations at each other from mountaintops, and nobody would take that seriously. His habit of calling you his little bro, or some variation of that, as a pet name did not help in the slightest.

At first, it was funny. Just at the beginning of your relationship, when you intended to keep your fondness away from prying eyes and wanted to enjoy exploring each other in this new, intimate side of things, having people consider you pals was great. You can recall Seonghwa making a few remarks about how cute you would look together, but it was dismissed rather quickly. The first time it happened, you totally saw Yunho's ears go red, him stammering out something about friendships and trust and members making you uncomfortable.

At the end of your third date, you were sure you wanted this man next to you for life. He took you to the aquarium. It was a cliché, but it's something you have always dreamed of. You love animals, love to learn new things, and you think you love Jeong Yunho. He looked dashing in just a pair of blue jeans and a white sweater; your heart definitely skipped a beat when he smiled, hands reaching to greet you in a short embrace. It skipped a beat again when you heard him laugh lightly at some joke you made. And again, when his hand brushed against yours as you walked to your destination. Stepping into a room with tiny fish specimens showcased in various tanks, blue lights now illuminated his frame and those round sparkling eyes. Your heart doesn't seem to work correctly.

Few hours went flying. You took pictures. Half of them when he wasn't paying attention. You told him he looks like the prettiest starfish they have and didn't miss his cheeks darkening with blush even in the dim lights. Not too long had passed before you started to point out funky ones to each other, exclaiming, 'You!' and laughing. After a particularly accurate comparison of you to a dwarf puffer ('Dwarf puffers are aggressive, sensitive, and active' the sign read), he reached and intertwined your fingers, not a single hint of trying to hurt you with that juxtaposition, his eyes full of adoration, a huge smile on his face. You could have just kissed him.

He insisted on ice cream later in the evening. You were just heading out the shop when you bumped into Mingi. Faces red but happy, Yunho's arm hugging you to his side, a small bag of sweet treats in his hand. It took a second for Song Mingi to take the sight in. And another second for him to smile and greet you, to ask how's it going and where you're going to go.

''Oh, my girlfriend and I are just going to relax somewhere in the park nearby.''

You couldn't help the giggle that escaped your lips. Girlfriend. You can definitely get used to being called his girlfriend. And then it happened. Cue Mingi's cluelessness, or the fact that he's just tired from their hectic schedules.

''Man, it's great that you can be so close with each other and aren't afraid someone will mistake you for a couple. If you could act a bit better, maybe you'd even get a discount sometime!'' With that, he was gone.

There was a little tradition your small company liked to keep. Board games.

Every once in a while, when everyone wasn't busy, you'd spend an evening playing, talking, lightly drinking, and overall just relaxing. Adult life could take a really boring turn, the one that only had 'road work ahead, and so should you' sign. Bills, taxes, colleagues being stressed and mean, and yada-yada. Idol life was probably even worse.

There was some catching up due, and this Saturday night seemed just the perfect opportunity. The lot of you chose a game, lo-fi music was put on for background, and the living room area was cleaned so up to ten people could comfortably sit in a circle. Drinks were cold and ready to be handed out.

You took a seat in between your beloved Yuyu and Yeosang, a dear friend of yours who got you in the group. You'd expect him to know your heart of all people. Although when you told him about your new boyfriend, all he did was laugh and say that was a good one.

Bewilderment washed over you in a tidal wave. It showed up on your face, swimming behind your eyes and overflowing in a strangled sound from your lips. And you, Yeosang? With your confused and hurt whimper, the topic was brought to everyone's attention.

''Did you guys know y/n likes Yunho?'' Maybe it was the alcohol, but you heard more laughter.

''Oh? But y/n likes all of us, don't you?''

''Well, yes, but—'' you were not going to finish that sentence. He heard what he wanted.

''See?'' Wooyoung looked so smug; if your brain wasn't so busy being confused, you'd be infuriated. Right now you looked like there was a loading circle turning in your head. Hopefully you won't bluescreen.

''Are you guys pulling my leg?''

''Are you? Seriously, you and Yunho.'' There came a playful nudge to your side.

You wanted to protest, to ask your boyfriend to back you up, but turning to him, you saw his eyes creased by a smile. He shook his head slightly, as if trying to say that it's fine and they will catch up to it eventually. He knew it was going to take them a while. And with his hand lightly caressing your back, your anger dissipated, replaced by a warm feeling inside your chest. Was it always so hot in here?

''Just relax, little pal. I got you.''

A while has passed before you decided to be openly affectionate, at least around those closest to you.

It was a day off for the both of you. You planned on going out, but upon seeing your boyfriend's tired eyes, you opted to offer a quiet night in. Weather seemed to agree with that, given that it started raining against the broadcast's best predictions.

You were met with Hongjoong, who opened the door and let you in. When you entered their living room, you saw Yunho, still in sweatpants and a big shirt, holding a steaming mug.

''Hey.'' He said, ''Isn't it my favorite little dude!''

''Hello, honey.''

The warmth in your voices could melt the arctic icebergs. You took a few moments just to look at each other, gentle smiles tugging at the corners of your mouths.

''Oh, hey, bro! I'm also in the room, where's my sweet greeting?''

It was San, a pout already present on his sleepy face.

''You'd get it when you have a girlfriend.''

The day was spent in the comfort of their couch, with soft cushions and comforters draped around. None of you cared for the cancelled plans, not really, when all you ever wanted was to be in each other's presence. That was enough. Several movies were watched, hot tea keeping the cozy atmosphere company. You were cuddled with Yunho, feeling warm and giddy. That's when Seonghwa made another comment about how cute the two of you were.

''But I don't want to make you uncomfortable, y/n. Don't take this close to heart. We know there's nothing romantic going on.''

It was as though they were doing it on purpose.

''It's okay, Seonghwa; we are together. Like, I love him and all that.''

Your voice was steady, your face was serious, and yet…

''Of course you are,'' San almost scoffed. ''But that behavior is exactly why you can't get a date these days. People see Yunho and don't dare approach you.''

A light chuckle could be heard from the room; Yunho also couldn't contain his. The more blunt you were at stating your relationship status, the more oblivious band members became.

''Little broski is saying she doesn't need a date. She has me. Right, darling?''

Yunho was being honest. You nod at him, darting your eyes back at your friends in hopes of seeing the realization there. Yet, his playful tone and charming smile did nothing to convince the others. It's not like you've been actively trying to make them believe you were an item. Though now it seemed to irritate you a bit. Was it really that hard to imagine you and Jeong Yunho together? Were you not good enough in their eyes? Or was it his habit of calling you bro? You never knew.

''Why is it so hard for you to believe we're dating, though?''

You voiced your thoughts, needing to know the answer now.

''Y/n, love… You'd date a reputable scam artist before Yunho; we know that much. You'd probably even date Hongjoong first if-''

''I can hear that!''

That was the captain's answer from the kitchen.

''A reputable scam artist?''

That was your confused reply. What does that even mean?

''And what is so wrong with dating me? I'm handsome, I'm charming, and so, so funny! A real treat. I could also be a scam artist if I really wanted to.''

A strangled sound tore from your chest.

''See? That's a laugh.''

There was another. He was not at all interested in proving them wrong.

You couldn't believe your luck when you showed up at the dorms a week later and no one was there.

Yunho had called you, asking you to come in, some mischevous spark laced in his tone. It turns out, the boys had work, and those who didn't decided on spending the day outside. There was undoubtedly a need for shopping for essential items, as well as just a bit of fresh air and relaxation for those workaholics. Well deserved. Yunho needed it too. So when he asked if you could just cuddle him a bit and maybe cook something easy later, you couldn't find it in yourself to deny this request.

His bed? Soft. His body? Warm. Hands? Big and strong and held you against him perfectly. You were happy. You basked in the feeling of his chest pressed against your back, like puzzle pieces, you thought. You traced the veins on his arms, switching to play with his fingers from time to time. This feels nice. This feels so right. How could his members not see this? You were practically made for each other. You decided to bring it up.

''Why do you think our friends don't take us seriously?''

He let out an amused hum, his breath fanning over your neck.

''I dunno. Maybe they all want you, just can't take the fact I already hogged you for myself.''

He hugged you tighter. In all honesty, that was distracting. How could you think about other guys, about anything else, really, when your big and strong boyfriend held you so tenderly against himself? The thought of him wanting you and caring for you as much as you did for him should melt your heart. Instead, with the way his fingers played with your shirt, caressing your skin where it had rode up, it sent hot waves someplace else. Were you cruel enough to ruin this perfect cuddle session with your dirty thoughts?

''You're here, love?'' His hand went up to cradle your face.

Turning to him, you couldn't avoid looking at his lips. So pink and soft. You know just how nice they feel against yours. Your eyes had darkened already, the feelings you had for this man had your head all dizzy. Without much thinking, you moved forward, connecting your lips in a sweet kiss. You felt his breath hitch. A tiny sound tried to escape his throat, but your mouth didn't let it. His hands moved to your waist again, holding you even closer.

You put your hands in his hair. You just couldn't resist massaging his scalp and tugging gently, soft locks slipping through your fingers. And god were you rewarded with another sound from him, right into your lips, chest reverberating against yours. He stopped kissing you; for a moment he just needed to look at your face. Rose hue on your cheeks and blown eyes — no doubt he looked the same.

''I see,'' he chucled. Hands roaming your body, skimming your sides. ''You're so amazing. I can't get enough of you, my little bro.''

There it was again. The way he said it was ethereal. His voice so soft and perfectly low, his eyes dark and full of adoration. But it was the bro part that got your mind out of the gutter. Only for a moment, though.

''I want to make love to you so badly,'' you started. He sucked in a breath. His eyes fixated on your face, jumping over to your lips for a second. ''But please, stop with the bro thing. You can put that mouth to better use.''

''I'll be good,'' is his promise.

With that, he leaned in to kiss you again. This time pressing into you harder, needier. You couldn't control yourself any longer, too. With a soft moan, he moved even closer, almost getting on top of you, his weight pressing you into the mattress. And it feels, oh, so good. You bite on his lower lip carefully, anything to hear his beautiful sounds again. You let him take the lead, tongue gliding over yours. He moans at the taste.

Tongue keeps rooling over yours; he lets his hands slide under your shirt. He kneads your breasts, then moves his hands over to grab at your hips and thighs, and back under your shirt again. You feel on fire. You want him to touch you everywhere at once; you want to touch him even more. You're the first to give in, reaching to help him take his t-shirt off.

He's gorgeous. Hair a bit messy, lips glossy and red from the kiss. He pants a little, and you reach to glide your hand over his abs and chest, circling over his nipple. You can hear a tiny pleased sound leaving him, but it's not enough. He reattaches himself to you right away, mouth finding your neck. He kisses, bites, and licks at your most sensitive spots. You take him back gladly, hugging him close and moving your hips to meet his. He seems eager to do the same, another perfect sound leaves his lips. It's a groan, and it's right into your ear, and it makes your head spin.

''God, you feel amazing.'' He breathes out, and you can't take it anymore. You want him, you need him with you, on you, in you. Your clothes get swiftly discarded, that eagerness earning you a quiet snicker. You don't care; your brain is in a fog, Yunho is the only thing on your mind.

''Please, touch me.'' you ask, settled in his sheets and looking up in his eyes, dark pools filled with lust to the brim.

He obliges, positioning himself at your side. ''How do you want it, baby?'' He asks, but his hands are already on you. He groups your breasts once more, bringing his mouth to suck at your neck, moving down until he can lick your nipple. He plays with you as he pleases, kneading your skin and ghosting over the area where you want him the most. ''Please,'' you whine.

''What? Isn't it good when I touch you here? Or maybe here?''

He moves his hand to massage your thighs so close to your hot core, playing with your inner thighs, pinching slightly. You start to buck your hips involuntarily. Oh, but then he moves it over your belly to your nipples again. You tug at his hands and whine again. With more and more whimpering coming from you, he surrenders.

Long fingers find your sticky folds to roll through them. The sound you let out makes his dick twitch in his underwear. When he finally pays attention to your clit, you feel exstatic. You look at him, at his concentrated face as he plays with you. You're lost in this feeling, lost in him. His fingers enter you suddenly, and you try to say something, but no real words come out. All you can think of is how good he feels inside of you. Your fingers can never do what his long ones can. They strech you a bit, just enough to feel this sweet pressure and leave you wanting more. Just enough to reach that gummy spot there that makes you see stars behind your eyelids.

''You look so good like this, fuck.'' He praises. His voice brings you back to reality. ''So fucked out already, and I barely even done anything.''

You want to protest, to say that you are not fucked out yet, but the way your walls clench around his fingers is a dead giveaway. You are losing your mind a little. Can he really blame you, though, when he's the one pressing on that spot inside of you, so, so well. You can't really say anything, the only sounds escaping are your moans. Yunho thinks your voice sounds like honey, so sweet and thick with arousal. He bucks his hips against you, breathing deeply.

You reach for his cock, still trapped in his sweats and boxers. Suddenly, the fabric is just so frustrating. He lets out an airy laugh at your feeble attempt at touching him, taking his fingers out. You mewl at sudden loss pathetically.

''What's wrong, love? Do you miss me already?''

He leaves your side not even for a minute, but it feels like forever. With a teasing grin, he discards the rest of his clothing and finally climbs back to bed, now on top of you. It's great. He's big and pinning you down and pressing to you just right.

You want him inside, so you try to shift a little, make it more comfortable for him to finally fuck you, but he doesn't budge. The look you're giving his way is comical. You're flushed and needy, and there's that throbber almost visible on your forehead again. Your boyfriend doesn't give you time to ask, diving into another heated kiss with you. Your moan is bordering on a sob when he opts to fuck your mouth with his tongue instead of fucking you like you desperately need him to.

When at last he's lining his cock up with your slit, you think you're actually going to cry. He's so hard and so big, the stretch feels euphoric. Pleasure overtakes and your eyes flutter shut as he slowly bottoms out.

''Keep your eyes open. Look at me, baby.''

His words come out in a mix of a moan and a growl. You swear you could come just listening to him, hand-free and all that. You open your eyes, and the sight is breathtaking. He moves inside of you, your walls feel hot and tight and like the most expensive velvet. You can see all of that in his eyes. He feels so good, and you're the one making him hiss and groan in pleasure, his mouth forming the perfect O's and stuttering muddled praises. God, you love him.

You can't keep thinking about it for much longer. The pace he's set becomes a bit faster and sloppier, and he reaches his hand in between your bodies to put pressure on your clit. With it comes his strangled warning, '' 'm close, honey.'' And you can feel it, too. His dick hits that spot in you just right, and with your clit stimulated, the familiar feeling is building in your stomach faster and faster. ''Me too,'' your eyes close without you realizing it, and with a cry of his name, you come all over his cock. A string of curses follows, and you feel him twitch, hips stilling, and warm liquid fills you up.

You take a minute to come down to earth again, and so does he. Leaving a chaste kiss on your cheek, he rolls over beside you, still panting a little.

''Fuck. My baby, you did so well.''

You're not sure how it is possible to feel so giddy and syrupy after being so unbelievably horny just a second ago. Guess he has that effect on you.

''It was amazing, Yuyu. I love you, so much.''

''I love you too.''

He drapes his blanket over the both of you, snuggling closer, stroking your hair with your head on his chest. You want to say more cheesy things to him. Just as you open your mouth, though, there's a knock on the door, and Mingi's figure pops in, hand covering his eyes.

''Are you guys done? Please tell me you're decent; I do not want to see y/n's boobs or worse!''

You yelp, tugging the covers to your chin. Both Yunho and you decide to speak.

''We're decent.''

''When did you come back?!''

''Just in time to hear the closing credits.''

Mingi is now taking in the scene. Clothes scattered on the floor, Yunho's disheveled look, you trying to hide in the blanket. Lovely.

''I am traumatized, by the way.''

''What's that supposed to mean?''

''We brought beef, by the way. Wanna join us in the kitchen?''

You're lost. You don't know if you should feel embarrassed or offended. Mingi doesn't bat an eye at your barely covered form. At least that's what it feels like.

''Let us maybe get dressed first?'' Yunho chimes in, hugging you to him to try and cover himself a bit too.

Mingi leaves, and you let out a breath you didn't realize you were holding. You start to shift a bit when the door gets burst open once again, followed by, ''Wait, so you are actually dating?!''

#ateez fanfic #ateez x reader #ateez smut #ateez yunho #jeong yunho #yunho x reader #yunho smut #fanfic #smut #x reader #fluff #kpop fanfic #kpop smut

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thewulf · 8 months ago

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Only You || Legolas

Summary: Request: Can you do a elf reader x Legolas where he's finally home in mirkwood after the quest? Maybe Gimli is with him and he's like 'i see why you always talked about the lassie.' or something funny that exposes Legolas for how much he really likes her. He then confeses and asks to court her or something sweet pleaseee?? My fav fluff writer! Thank u!

A/N: Thank you so much for the kind words and sweet as heck request. Really love this one. I didn't edit it too heavily so please be wary of general writing mistakes! Hope you all enjoy my fav elf imagine :)

Pairing: Legolas x Female Reader

Word Count: 2.9k +

TW: Pure fluff? No LOTR triggers

You had finally gotten a free evening to yourself after training for the better part of every evening for the last year with your father, Girdirion. He had been training you relentlessly after Legolas had left of the quest his father, King Thranduil, had sent him off on. That was over a year ago. You hadn’t heard much other than they had made it to Minas Tirith a few months ago.

Your father suddenly saw you as defenseless without your longtime friend at your side. Being the kings most trusted advisor, he had been trained for centuries and was a formidable fighter. It wasn’t until after Legolas had left that you had realized how serious the threat to middle earth was. Your father must had realized it too as he worked you to the bone, training you at every chance he could.

It was only after King Thranduil received word that the ring had been destroyed and his son was heading home did things begin to change. Your father still made you train but it wasn’t at every waking moment any longer. Tonight, was one of those nights that he had given you off as he had meetings to attend to with the king.

Time felt too slow as you waited for Legolas to return. He promised he would. You knew he would. He was all the way across middle earth, but you just couldn’t seem to wait any longer. You longed for you best friend, who meant much more to you than just a best friend, to come home.

As soon as you settled on your bed to begin reading the novel you had been meaning to finish there was a quick knock at your door. Who could that be? You weren’t expecting anybody at this hour after dinner. Begrudgingly, you set the book down just as you had gotten comfortable and made your way over to the door.

When you opened the door you scrunched your face in confusion, “Father? What are you doing here? I thought you were meeting with the king?”

He nodded, “I was. Then we got interrupted. There is somebody here I think you may want to see.” His smile let you know exactly what you were thinking. Legolas was home. He was back in Mirkwood after nearly a year and a half away. Sure, it wasn’t that long of a time for you in the scheme of your lifetime but it did feel like the longest year of your nearly two thousand years in middle earth.

“Legolas?” You tore out of your room not waiting for his response as you made your way to the throne room. You heard your fathers deep laughter behind you before he jogged to catch up with your lighter than air pace.

Once he caught up to you he had that knowing smile on his face. He had watched the two of you dance around the obvious feelings each other had. You never thought you were good enough to be with the kings son. He never thought you were interested in that way. But to everybody on the outside looking in it was rather obvious the two of you were destined to be together. Even if it was taking longer than expected. A thousand years longer than expected. See, King Thranduil and your father had agreed they would bless the union between the two of you should it come naturally. But neither had the heart to force it. He and your father knew as good as anybody these things had to find their way on their own, naturally. Even if it drove the two elder Ellon’s mad.

“Indeed, your elf has made it home.” He spoke as the two of you walked, much faster than normal, towards the kings room.

Before you opened the massive wood doors you turned to him with a sly smile and a hint of a blush dotting the apples of your cheeks, “My elf?”

Your father raised his eyebrows at you, “Go on then.” He pushed you forward ignoring your question.

When you pushed open the doors you couldn’t find the familiar blonde hair of your best friend. Even as you walked closer to the throne you looked all around the hall and only spotted King Thranduil who was giving you the same smirk your father just did. What were they up to? Where was Legolas? And why was the king looking at you like he knows something you didn’t?

“I apologize my king.” You bowed unsure of what else to do. When you turned to see if your father had followed you in you were left biting your lip seeing the door closed without him in the room. What was he up to? “My father said…”

Thranduil put his hand up pausing you right in your tracks, “Legolas is out in the gardens with a dwarf. A dwarf!” He sounded more frustrated than excited to his son after the time away.

But you cracked a smile instead. That was so him. He was anything and everything his father was not. The two of them could not have more different personalities. Your best friend was the one to push boundaries no elves would or could do seeing that his father was the king, “A dwarf you say? That sounds like him.”

Thranduil studied your happier than he’s seen you in an entire year expression full well knowing it was because Legolas was back from his grand quest. Thranduil rose from his throne before walking down to you. Having to look up to him because he was so tall all you could do was wait on his word.

He pointed his hand towards the entrance to the kings private gardens, “Go, you audience is rather impatiently waiting on you.” He gave you a knowing smile before retreating towards the door you had originally come in, likely to go find your father. Not wasting anymore time you made a beeline towards the doors that led to the private gardens you so rarely got to enjoy. He must have deemed it enough of a special occasion to grant access to not only you, but a dwarf as well. You knew Legolas was behind that as well. He was the only one to get the king to agree to something he might not want to do.

For the second time in a few moments, you threw open the heavy wooden doors leading out to the gardens. It did not take you long to hear the pair before you saw them. You paused hoping to catch just a brief moment between the two of them before you made your presence completely known. As you suspected the dwarf had Legolas distracted from hearing you walk out.

“Look at ya lad. Pacin’ like a horse.” The unfamiliar voice chuckled. You had a feeling the dwarf poked fun at the ellon more often than not.

You just knew he was rolling his eyes, the beautiful blonde prince he was, “I am not Gimli.”

But the dwarf just kept laughing, “Ya’ weren’t even this nervous when we rode up to the Black Gate.”

“Would you quiet down dwarf. She will be out momentarily.” That sounded just like the elf that had left a year and a half prior. It was almost too easy to get him worked up and the dwarf called Gimli certainly enjoyed playing into it.

“The little lassie has you this nervous huh?” You? You made him nervous?

Legolas let out a huff, “Gimli!” And you knew that was your queue to help spare the ellon from his friend who seemed relentless. You already liked Gimli from the sounds of it. You shut the door behind you louder than necessary to signal your arrival.

Taking a deep breath, you walked forward suddenly terribly nervous after those comments. What was Gimli playing on? Why would he be nervous to see you? You didn’t want to get your hopes up on feelings as you buried those away centuries ago. Your crush for the ellon grew slowly the first thousand or so years you knew him. Truly organic in the best way possible. Childhood friends to training partners to friends then best friends after it all. Once your training to become a healer had completed you had a sneaking suspicion all his injuries in the field were so he could come see you after some time away. He would only request you. Straight refusing the other healers help when offered. He would wait for you.

But then it just stayed like that. You thought it could grow into something more, but it dawned on you over the next few centuries his father had a say in who he courts and marries. Why would King Thranduil allow his son to court you of all elves? Sure, your father was his most trusted advisor, but you were no political gain in marriage. So you did what you did best, buried the feelings deep and bottled it all up.

The two of them quieted quickly hearing the door close. When you turned the corner you finally spotted your prince after far too long apart paired with an adorably red-headed dwarf who was staring right at you. You however were staring straight at Legolas as your small smile turned into a massive one. There he was, as handsome as ever, standing right there in front of you after too long. The longest either have you had spent apart from each other.

“Legolas.” You grinned before pulling him into a tight hug. It was when he gave you a big squeeze back that you simply just melted into the ellon completely forgetting you had an audience yourselves.

“Aye lad! You left out the detail of your Y/N being quite the beauty.” Gimli spoke up from beside you breaking the trance the two of you seemed to be under. You giggled once you pulled away from him seeing the look of horror cross his face at his friends comments.

You turned to the dwarf feeling the nerves wash away. You had the advantage here as Gimli seemed to want to torture your friend, “Hello. It is lovely to meet you. I am Y/N. Daughter of Girdirion, King Thranduil’s advisor.”

He pointed at you before narrowing his eyes at you, “Do you hate dwarves as much as his father does?”

You shook your head, “Hardly. You are actually the first dwarf I am meeting. I do not get away often.” You knelt down making yourself level with him, “You are much cuter than made out to be.” That earned a few stumbling words and a rather mighty blush to the warrior who seemed to have nothing but words. You managed to render him speechless.

This earned a snicker from your favorite ellon, “Elf got your tongue there Gimli?”

That comment must have meant war between the two of them. The dwarf cocked his eyes up to his friend, shook his head then turned back to you who was now back to standing instead of crouching, “Lady Y/N. It is lovely to finally meet you too. I feel as though I already know ya lassie.” He grinned knowing exactly what he was about to do.

You looked at Legolas with curiosity framing your face before returning your attention back to Gimli, “Do you?”

“Aye.” He nodded, “Legolas here would never shut up about ye. Y/N this. Y/N that. Y/N would love this. Y/N would hate that.”

You knew your cheeks were surely aflame with embarrassment just as Legolas’ were, “We have spent quite some time together over the years.”

But Gimli wouldn’t have that, “I think it has something to do with you lassie. The way you look. The way you dress. The way you seem to occupy his every thought.”

“That is enough.” Legolas finally chimed in giving his friend a hard stare telling him to get the hell out. But that only egged the red head on further. Your eyes bounced back and forth between the two of them before Gimli relented.

He bowed his head, “My lady.”

Echoing his actions you responded, “Gimli.” Before turning your attention back to the prince. Your eyes finally were able to scan his features. Not a hair seemed out of place. He was exactly as you remembered.

“Welcome home.” You gave him your biggest smile feeling like you could finally relax after seeing him alive and well.

He wasted no more time before pulling you into a second bone crushing hug. He had never been so forward causing you to let out a slight stutter in surprise of his actions. It was the last thing you had expected from him. But then again, who knew what he went through out there. Legolas was a strong warrior, but you knew how deeply this could impact anybody who had to go through it.

“I have missed you.” He whispered into your ear not letting his arms go from around you. He had no clue how his words were affecting you in that moment. Suddenly you felt that stupid little crush, that was surely love at this point, bubbling up from the depths of your heart that you had long since locked away.

When he pulled away after a few moments he took the time to look you over just as you had moments prior. He didn’t drop his hands from around your waist though, simply holding you loosely in his embrace. You had never felt his eyes or his hands on you heavily before or that you had noticed in the past, “I have missed you beyond words Legolas. I have spent a year and a half filled with the dread of the thought you may never come home. Seeing you here is the greatest gift Eru Ilúvatar could have bequeathed.”

It was then that Legolas knew just how deep your feelings ran for him just as they had run for you. He too had spent the better part of a thousand years being absolutely in love with you, his favorite elf, but making no indication of it. For he thought you may have eyes for someone else. He could not risk losing you in the event you said ‘no’ to his request to court you. But by the way you were looking at him he knew that was wrong. Your love laced eyes could not break away from his gorgeous blue ones.

He knew he needed to take the next step with you. Gimli was right. His dwarf friend spent the better part of the journey home convincing him he needed to ask the question he had been dying to ask you. He wanted to court you. Spend the rest of his middle earth life and the next one with you. He had never been so sure of that. The thought of courting another elleth felt wrong. It was you. It was always going to be you.

“Gimli was not lying, my lady.” Even though it came out as a whisper your ears could pick it up with no problem.

That shocked you. Was he admitting the same thing that you were? Did he have feelings for you too? “Pardon?”

He grinned seeing your dumb struck face, “You do in fact occupy my every thought. You are the reason I am here now. I fought for middle earth, yes. But for you more. Thinking of your smile pulled me out of the darkest of times

Your lips parted in utter shock at his admission, “Legolas, I…” You were at a loss for words as you processed his confession to you. Your heart was giving you away completely though as it beat faster than it ever had before.

He continued seeing as you were rendered speechless, “It was only ever you. It was only every going to be you, my love. You are my very best friend Y/N. I would never want to continue this life with somebody who was not you. It is only you. It will only ever be you.” He paused finding the courage to say what had been on the tip of his tongue for centuries, “I love you.”

Your jaw might have been on the floor at this point, “You love me?”

He nodded with a nervous expression, “More than you will ever know.”

That was all you needed before you walked forward, butting yourself right against his chest, “That is a relief my prince. As I love you too. More than you will ever know.”

Euphoria. The truest form of euphoria pulsed through your body as you too admitted what had always been so hard to admit.

His expression melted to that of pure elation. Gently he placed his hands under your chin, cupping your face so carefully, “May I begin to court you, my love?”

“I would be so honored Legolas.” Your head was turned up as you looked into his eyes for likely the millionth time. It was different this time. Charged with love and lust. Like you were looking at a new Legolas. One that you could get to know at a much deeper level.

He brushed his thumb over your lips sending shivers racking throughout your body, “Only you. Only ever you.”

Taglist Sign Up): @loving-and-dreaming @kmc1989 @memeorydotcom @matisse556 @buckylov3r @taygrls @ah-blossom @hardballoonlove @rosiahills22 @djs8891 @guacam011y @illisea @il0vebeingdelulu

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celestial-grls · 6 months ago

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Ciao Amore - Emily Engstler x fem!reader

summary: You and Emily are on vacation in Italy together. You have a small argument on your first night there, angst ensues... word count: 2.0k a/n: I definetely wanna write a part 2 to this w/ smut...y'all lmk

This could've been the perfect ending to your and Emily's first night in Italy. Except both of you let the exhaustion from traveling and jet lag get to you, which resulted in a couple's quarrel.

It wouldn't be fair to say you started it—except maybe that's what Emily would've believed when you gave her the wrong directions to the hotel and delayed your check-in time by a whole hour.

At first, Emily tried to keep her composure as she asked you for confirmation on which way to turn. She scrubbed her right hand down her face and sighed, "Baby, I need you to tell me if I gotta turn left here or up ahead."

The sun is blinding, and the tiny sun visor in the mini Cooper you guys decided to rent is barely doing anything to block it out. You're hopelessly trying to translate the directions from Italian to English from your phone. Still, you're getting less and less service the farther into the drive you guys get. Since it's quiet, you each thought the Tuscan countryside was the best option for your honeymoon. No one would recognize Emily here, and if they did, they'd be more lowkey than fans elsewhere could be. But with half a tank of gas gone, sweat collecting on the back of your neck, and a headache forming behind your eyes, your patience is wearing thin, too.

"Umm…I think it's the next left. Yeah, the one up ahead." There isn't anything in your tone that leads Emily to believe you.

"Are you sure? Because if not, we can't make a U-turn here."

"Yeah, Em. That's what it says in the directions."

As it turned out, you guys were supposed to take the first left, not the second, which led you through a tiny town with the narrowest roads you've ever seen. Emily had to drive as slowly as possible, and you tried to warn her about some of the Vespas parked on the side street.

"Em! You almost scraped that Vespa!" You yelled in exasperation after she avoided the Vespa by half an inch.

"Baby, relax. I know what I'm doing," she huffs before adding, "unlike some people."

You know she's just as eager to get to your hotel as you are, so you let the sass slide this time. "Okay. I wanna see you try to read these directions in Italian. Maybe I should drive instead."

Emily rolls her eyes and scoffs as she drives out of the little town and into wider streets. The directions show that you guys are back where you're supposed to be. "Not if we wanna make it to the hotel in one piece."

Scrunching your brow, you ask her, "What's that supposed to mean?" You shift closer to your door, taking your elbow off the center console.

Emily immediately notices your change in body language. She places her hand on your knee, trying to make amends. She glances over at you but stands by what she said. "C'mon, baby. Don't be ridiculous."

You scoff and start rubbing at your temples. "You know I can drive! It's insulting you don't think I can!"

Ever since the two of you started dating, it was evident that you would have to navigate each other's stubbornness. For most of your relationship, Emily was the driver, and you were in the passenger seat. You glanced down at the directions on your phone and saw it'd be about another five miles before you reached your hotel.

"I never said you couldn't drive! You know what I meant, Y/N," Emily's grip tightens against the wheel as you look out the window, not meeting her gaze.

You annoyedly sniffle and tell her, "Just go straight for another five miles."

Both of you knew it would be the longest five miles you've ever had to drive together.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

When you both arrived at the hotel, you could finally breathe outside the Mini Cooper's confines. The sun was starting to go down as you guys checked in, and neither of you said a word to each other. As you began to take the dress you would wear out of your suitcase, you couldn't stop angrily unzipping the sides. Emily was stomping around the room in search of her slippers. When you kicked them in front of her, she pouted at you and flopped on the bed.

You both knew you could behave like little kids when you got into little spats. It was a relief to finally be out of the heat, stop the stressful shuffling that comes with traveling, and finally get to spend time alone together.

Emily sunk into the bed, shutting her eyes and harshly rubbing at them. When she opened them and turned onto her side, she watched you slide open the balcony door to lean against the railing, eyes trailing the Italian countryside lit up at night. She watched you tie your robe tighter around yourself, knowing you were probably about to step into the shower,

She thought about opening the door and apologizing, but she figured you each needed some moments alone. She felt so sullen, watching you from behind the door. This was supposed to be a time you could spend together, finally away from the craziness and pressure back home.

The hotel was beautiful. Outside of the balcony, it looked like the streets were lit up with millions of tiny string lights, and through the cracked door, you could hear the chatter of other couples having an early dinner. Emily sank further into the plush hotel bed before grabbing her book and busying herself.

You open the door and come back inside, barely glancing at Emily. Emily peers over the top of the book and watches you disappear behind the bathroom door.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

You came out of the bathroom with damp hair and your face scrubbed clean of the makeup you had on before. Emily was still reading on the bed when you decided to sit next to her. She closed her book, marking the page before meeting your gaze.

You tuck a stray hair behind your ear, getting water drips on Emily's arm. You look down at your robe tie before saying, "We should probably get dinner."

Emily sits in bed, unsure whether she's in your good graces again. She tests the waters by tucking your other strand behind your ear. When you let her, she feels relieved. "Sure, baby. Let's get dinner."

You each get ready silently, hanging onto a tightness in your chest. It's stupid to argue the way you do because neither of you likes to admit when you're wrong. The only sounds from your hotel room are from the whir of you blow-drying your hair and Emily hanging up some shirts before choosing the one she'll wear tonight. Even if you are a little upset with her, you hope she wears the blue striped shirt that you love so much on her.

Emily's still watching you from her place on the bed. She's considering how and at what point she should apologize to you tonight. Even if it is true that you're not a stellar driver, she shouldn't have made a comment when both of you were clearly grouchy and eager to just get to the hotel.

It's when she sees you twist your hair up into a clip and slip on a slinky black dress that you've had forever that she feels wholly disarmed and forgets why you guys ever argue in the first place. You're leaning over the bathroom sink to dab the lipstick on and swiping what's left on your fingers on your cheeks, puckering and pouting in the mirror, completely unaware of the way Emily's looking at you. She stands there for a few seconds before clearing her throat and grabbing her shoes. When you leave the bathroom, she looks down shyly like a kid in trouble and mumbles, "Ready to go?"

You nod, remaining neutral outside, but seeing Emily's guilty face tugs at your heart. "Let me grab my shoes."

"I-uh. I took them out already. They're by the nightstand." She nervously adjusts the rings on her fingers as she tells you this. You brought your favorite black heels on vacation and wear them for most of the date nights you guys have.

This little gesture that she does really makes you feel guilty about giving her the cold shoulder, so you stand in front of her, bringing your hand up to rest against her face, and tell her, "Thanks, baby."

Emily stills and looks down at you, eyes focusing on the lip color you're wearing and wondering when it'll be time to kiss you. She'd never dream of asking if you're still mad at her because she knows better than that, and chooses to wait it out and see. When you're done slipping on your heels, she puts her hand on the small of your back as you exit the hotel and have dinner at one of the restaurants down the street.

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

It's hard to stay mad at each other in a restaurant this romantic. Your waiter poured each of you a glass of red wine and left the bottle for you both to split over the course of dinner. Emily's nervously twisting her rings while you look directly at her with your chin propped on the palms of your hand. She's focused on her plate of pasta while you sip from your glass of wine. She wipes the napkin at the corner of her mouth before clearing her throat and looking at you.

Right now, she could really forget she's in Italy at all. All she could see was the gravity of your long eyelashes blinking back at her, your hand wrapped around the wine glass, and the corners of your mouth turned down into a slight frown.

"Y/N? I wanted to say I'm sorry, baby." She laughs, reaching across the table to grab your hand. "I was–I shouldn't have said what I did back there in the car."

You look at her downturned brown eyes, the blue shirt you love so much, and how it bounces off the soft light of the restaurant. You've been thinking about kissing her since she set your shoes out for you, desperately restraining yourself against kissing her stupid and forgetting you were ever angry with each other.

You sigh, "Are we idiots, Em?"

Emily laughs, "We must be. We're like little kids." She punctuates the tenderness of the admission by kissing the back of your hand.

You shrug, "I'm not the best driver, I know."

Emily doesn't say anything at first, knowing it'd only get her in more trouble to agree with that statement. "Aw baby, you know I can't read Italian. I think you were the best person for the job."

You playfully roll your eyes, "You don't have to grovel, y'know? You're already in my good graces again."

Emily reaches across the table to hold the side of your head, gently pressing her lips to yours. You've been thinking about her hands in your hair since she tucked your hair behind your ear earlier in the hotel room. When you pull apart, all you can taste is the wine you've both been drinking, pausing to see how it's turned the corners of Emily's mouth a delicious shade of red. Observing the color makes you kiss her back more intensely, running a finger across her jawline.

She leans back in her chair, spreading her legs a bit before slowly sipping from her wine glass. "Y'look pretty t'night, ma."

She's flirting with you like you guys haven't been dating for some time now. You narrow your eyes at her, "Yeah?"

She gives you one long look, sweeping her eyes from top to bottom. "Yeah."

You consider what your next move should be. Your instincts tell you to ask your lover what she's thinking. Her expression is relieved, cheeks flushed from the wine you've both had. Out of habit, you actually do, softly whispering, "What are you thinking, Em?"

She looked to the side before smirking, "I think we should go back to the room so I can show you how sorry I am."

#my writing #emily engstler #wbb #rpf #emily engstler x reader #emily engstler x y/n #washington mystics

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alphajocklover · 2 months ago

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InstaJock: Going Viral

**Hey! This is my entry for @occamstfs Viral Transformation Challenge. Congrats on getting 2,000 followers, and thank you for beta reading this and helping me edit it. I hope I can get to 2,000 followers myself one day! For those who are new to my stories, this does connect to the plot established in my blog, but the concept is simple enough you should be able to follow along even if you don't usually read my stuff! I hope you all enjoy!**

When I talk about the InstaJock App Phenomenon – which I seem to do a lot. What is this, the 17th InstaJock related post? I need to diversify more – I usually talk about the transformation aspects and not the app itself. That’s partially because the transformation is the most interesting and hottest part, but it’s also because I haven’t been able to take a good look at the app. Even with all the protective spells and equipment I have, I can’t use a phone with InstaJock on it for very long without getting an urge to set up an account.

Until now.

With some help from the devilishly handsome (and literally devilish) Nick, I’ve been able to get my hands on some better equipment and better explore the app. I was able to spend a couple hours on it before I needed to quit, and actually got some very interesting information, mainly about how the app works post-transformation. I had always assumed that once a user got transformed into a jock, they’d ignore the app from then on unless they wanted to change someone. I was very, very wrong, not just about that but about the purpose of the app itself. It’s not just for making people into jocks: it’s for finding the best ones.

The app generally works like any other social media app, with its members posting about their interests. It’s set up is a lot like Instagram, where pictures and videos are the main format used for posting, but what really makes it different from other social media apps is the content. You can probably guess what an app full of buff cocky jocks looks like, but I’ll confirm it for you: the app is a thirst trap paradise.

The entire app is stuffed with half naked – and sometimes fully naked – photos of buff jocks, ones of all different kinds. If you can think up a jock related stereotype, they have a full hashtag dedicated to it. Just buff jocks playing sports, flexing and making out with other hot people, for as far. I know that doesn’t sound too different from normal social media apps, as most have a healthy NSFW side, but the posts have more in common then just showing jocks. Each and every post, every one that I saw, mentioned a Master. Some were talking about how they were getting pumped up at the gym for Master, some were talking about how they loved being jocks and were so glad Master had found them, and some were literally begging for Master to notice them, often wantonly describing how they’d debase themselves and be the sluttiest jock ever, all for him. Everyone on the app would post at least once a day about this mysterious Master. It doesn’t seem to matter if the jock is a dom, a sub, a top, a bottom, in a relationship, single, gay or even straight, all of them wanted this mysterious unnamed master – so much so they seemed to completely change personalities whenever he is mentioned. It seems instaJock has an additional side effect I didn’t know about till now: complete and utter devotion to their Master.

It took me a while, and some covert interviewing of a number of jocks in their DMs, but I think I figured out what's happening. The Jocks aren’t just posting for fun, they’re competing with each other. InstaJock isn’t really a social media app, it’s a sort of ranking app. Every day the jocks log on, post a picture of themselves with a caption somehow related to their Master, and leave likes on some of the other posts, usually the ones they find hot. If a jock’s post gets enough likes though, they get what every jock wants, what all of them are trying to get. They get to Go Viral.

Going Viral on IntsaJock isn’t like going viral on a regular app. It essentially means you’ve gotten enough likes, been reposted enough times, and have become popular enough on the site… that Master has noticed you. That's what the social media part of the app is really for. It’s just a way for Master’s jocks to organize themselves so only the hottest ones show up on his feed. If he really likes you, he’ll do more than just look too. Soon that Jock will disappear from his regular life, never to be seen again, whisked away to become a part of Master’s personal harem. This entire time the app has been about one thing: creating lovestruck sex slaves for the man who created InstaJock.

Like most actual social media apps, InstaJock jumps from one thing to another, and what's viral is always changing. But there are two tags that are always trending on InstaJock. The first, and most popular, is #JockMaster, which is only ever used by this mysterious Master when he makes a post. I’ve seen his account. He never shows his face on it, but from what little of his body that makes it into the photos, he’s… enchanting. As much as I hate to admit it, seeing just a bit of that creep almost made me drool. He usually only posts a couple times a week, as opposed to the jock who posts daily, but everything he posts goes viral on the app in moments. I’ll admit, there's something about his posts that is just… hypnotic. I almost set up an account after seeing one myself, and probably would have if Nick wasn’t there to stop me.

The other tag that's always trending is… more interesting, at least to me. It’s #MastersBoyfriend. It’s another tag used only by Master, and one he uses whenever he posts a picture of one particular member of his harem.

Whenever he posts pictures… of my Uncle John.

I finally know who took my Uncle. I know who this Master is. I suspected it was him for a while, but now I’m sure. The man who made InstaJock and the man who turned my Uncle into a slutty buff himbo are one in the same. I finally have proof.

So now what?

**The identity of the person behind InstaJock AND the person behind my Uncle's transformation and kidnapping has finally been revealed! Been working up to this for a long time, and I'm glad to keep this story moving forward! Hope you liked it as much as I do! Thank you to @occamstfs once again for being absolutely awesome and inspiring!**

#muscle growth tf #muscle tf #jock tf #jock transformation #jockification #nerd to jock #instajock tf #occam2000 #The Master TF

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moonstruckme · 10 months ago

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Whimsical!reader x Shy!remus 🤭🤭🤭 like the boys always try and get Remus to go out with them and he always tries to say no but James promises that Lily has a friend Remus might get along with and Remus is just so entranced by Whimsical!reader that he starts to come out of his shell and James is all 😏 “If I would’ve known it would end up like this I would’ve had you bring her around sooner, Evans”

Thanks for requesting my love!

Remus Lupin x whimsical!reader ♡ 933 words

“You can’t go home before ten,” Sirius insists, stepping through the front door as James chats with the party’s host, some co-worker of Lily’s.

“I can go home whenever I want,” Remus says gruffly.

“Give us an hour at least,” James negotiates as he breaks away from his conversation. He takes the lead of their little group automatically, navigating them through the house to the patio out back. “Lily’s friend is really sweet, I think you’ll like—hi!” His face splits open as he catches sight of his girlfriend, waving.

He hurries over for a kiss. “I’ve missed you, sweetheart.”

“I saw you this morning,” Lily reminds him, smiling against his lips.

“Too long a period of separation. Terrible.”

Despite the fact that they’re really being very tame, Sirius groans loudly.

“You live together,” he complains, “don’t you think you could do this another time?”

Lily rolls her eyes at him, but James straightens, recalling his primary aim of the evening.

“Right, this is Y/N,” he gestures to you, sitting with your feet tucked underneath you on the couch. He supposes you’ve found somewhere to stow your shoes away for the evening. “Y/N, this is Sirius” --Sirius shoots you one of his roguish half-grins. It slips a bit when you smile and nod politely, seemingly unaffected-- “and Remus.”

Remus raises his hand in a little wave, but it does nothing to dim the lustrous smile you send him. James nudges his friend your way, going to sit with Lily and leaving Sirius to go in search of drinks.

Lily’s done her job well. She’s chosen a quiet spot, tucked away at the fringes of the party, where you can enjoy the music without having to shout over it. James watches furtively as you take to Remus instantly, asking a steady stream of questions in your quiet, serene voice. Remus seems a bit tense, as if wary of some unknown form of verbal attack, but James is assured that he’ll relax soon. That tends to be your effect.

You’re an odd bird, but mellow in a way James suspects will appeal to his reticent friend. Over the years, he’s found that Remus doesn’t need to be pulled from his shell so much as he needs people to crawl in there with him. You seem like you’d be exactly the right fit.

“Neither of you are subtle,” Sirius says, returning with drinks for the three of them. “They’re going to scare if you keep staring at them like that.”

“Shit.” Lily turns quickly, accepting her drink and fixing her attention deliberately on Sirius. “Do you think they’ve noticed?”

“No,” James says. He has to hide a smile in his drink as you take one of Remus’ hands in both of your own. Remus’ face has turned stop-sign red, but you’re oblivious, running your fingers over his palm with tender care. “I think they’re too caught up in each other to pay us much mind.”

“What the hell are they doing?” Sirius leans against the back of the chair Lily and James are sharing.

Lily is visibly restraining herself from turning around to see what he’s talking about. James laughs, dipping his head to kiss her freckled shoulder.

“I think it’s a palm reading.”

“Oh, she’s freaky good at that,” Lily says. “I mean, I don’t want to believe in it and I don’t think I do, but she hasn’t been wrong yet.”

James raises his eyebrows at her. “That’s a lot, coming from you.”

His girlfriend scowls, sipping her drink. “I don’t like it.”

“I can’t believe Moony’s blushing just from her holding his hand like that,” Sirius marvels. He shakes his head, astounded. “This has got to be the most prudish flirting I’ve ever seen.”

“I’m not even sure she’s trying to flirt with him,” James admits. “I think this is just the way she is.”

Sirius scoffs. “Whatever it is, it’s working. Look at his mouth.”

James does. “Oh, shit.”

“What?” Lily evidently can’t stand it any longer. She turns around, but frowns when she sees nothing. “What is it?”

“He’s got his tongue tucked into the corner of his mouth,” James explains, leaning over to align her vision with his. “See that little bump? That’s his tell. He’s trying not to smile.” He sits back, smug. “He likes her.”

The more James watches, the more obvious it becomes. The faint flush that’s spread across Remus’ freckles, never really going away. The way he holds eye contact with you unfailingly, when ordinarily he’d be dropping his gaze. The tongue-tuck, which slips up occasionally as a bashful grin lifts the corners of his mouth.

James doesn’t know you as well as Lily does, but he thinks you must like Remus too, from the way you keep talking to him without ever looking for your friend to come rescue you. Soon the conversation seems to have found its rhythm, with Remus contributing as much as you do. He starts teasing you, a familiar hand on your knee or a quirked eyebrow at something you say, and you eat it up. Your laughter tinkles like windchimes, floating over the party even after he, Lily, and Sirius have stopped paying attention.

You move closer together over the course of the night. James’ one-hour stipulation passes, then another. Eventually, Lily is ready to go home and Remus hasn’t brought it up once. Probably distracted by the whisper of air separating his nose from yours.

James whistles softly. “Evans, if I’d known this would go so easily I wouldn’t have you bring her around a long time ago.”

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marvelwitchergilmore · 6 days ago

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Longing Looks to Something More

Summary: Tyler Owens x Fe!Reader -> You and Tyler have been friends for a long time, but one day things begin to change.

Disclaimer: Steamy moments, swearing, fluffy moments, oblivious idiots in love, love confessions (kinda), lots of pining. Not Proof Read.

You heard his boots scuffing the barn floor before he pulled out a chair next to your desk.

“Here.” Looking up, you found where he’d placed a fresh cup of tea beside you. “It’s too late for coffee, and Cathy said it’s good for sleep.”

“I don’t need sleep.” You lifted the mug. “But thank you.”

Tyler sat back in his chair, watching you as you went back to your work. You’d been sitting at that desk since four o’clock in the afternoon, and that hour was long gone.

“When was the last time you got some decent shut eye?” Tyler asked, picking up a folder you’d finished looking at so he could make the conversation feel less like an interrogation.

He smiled as he saw the small scribbled in the margins.

“Before college properly.”

He shut the document. “I’m being serious, Y/n.”

“So am I,” you said, holding in a laugh. But then he gave you the look.

Sighing, and relaxing your shoulders, you leaned to look at him. “I appreciate your concern, Ty, I really do. But I’m okay. I promise.”

He watched you for a moment before taking half of the scribbled notes from you and using the folder as something to lean on.

“What are you doing?” You asked, watching him.

“Helping.”

“Tyler-”

He looked at you. “You need sleep and I’m not leaving until you do. And that won’t be until you finish. Twice the people, half the work.”

You would have fought him on it, but in truth, you’d spent so much time looking at the calculations and data you thought you were starting to think in them, instead of words.

And he was right.

Whatever work you’d been distracting yourself with was as wrapped up as it could be until you gathered some more data. And by the looks of it, the tea was working. You’d been giving into your yawns rather than trying to fight them off.

Tyler had seen you do this for years. He was just glad they had Kate’s barn to work out of when chasing. You all finally had a home base now.

“Right, come on.”

Tyler practically hauled you from your seat.

“Bedtime.”

It was easier than previous nights to get you to move away from your work and head down to the farm house. There were three places to sleep on the farm. Inside the main house, which was where Kate stayed with Cathy and someone else would take the guest room. Then there was the guest house, with a couple different rooms which everybody had slept in at least once. Whoever fell asleep first, got the first pick of a room. Then there was the smaller guest house. It had one bedroom, a kitchen, a bathroom, a small sitting room and enough of a wooden stand in the back to be considered a porch.

That was where you and Tyler would be tonight since you were the last to go to bed.

“I brought your stuff down here earlier. I’m gonna brush my teeth.”

“Okay,” you yawned.

By the time you’d gotten dressed in your pyjamas, these days consisted of a random t-shirt which you were sure had belonged to one of the boys at some point, and cotton shorts. You joined Tyler in the bathroom, brushing your teeth whilst he washed his face.

Turning off the bath tap, he wrung out the face cloth before throwing it over the towel rail to dry.

“Come on.”

Finally rinsing out your mouth, you heard the clink of your toothbrush in the cup and wiped your mouth.

Tyler’s hand hovered by your hip as he led you out of the bathroom, turning the light off behind him, across the small living room and into the bedroom.

By that point, Tyler had practically wrangled and tucked you into bed before laying down beside you. For years, you’d shared a bed. You’d both shared a bed at least three times with each member of the crew. There was always a motel somewhere that didn’t have enough space.

So it didn’t freak you out to think you’d be sharing a bed with Tyler.

By the time the lights cut out, it wasn’t long before you were fast asleep.

When you woke up, you felt secure. Like you’d been wrapped in a weighted blanket. Only when you opened your eyes did you realise it was Tyler’s arms. With your back against his chest, his arms held you securely against him. He was fast asleep. His breathing even, soft snores coming from him as he held onto you for dear life.

It took you a minute but you eventually pulled yourself from his arms and headed for the bathroom. By the time you’d finished, you could hear him walking around the place before you heard the pans being moved around.

He was making breakfast.

“Hey.”

Tyler looked over his shoulder as he scrambled the eggs. “Hey, how’d you sleep?”

“Good. Better than college.”

Tyler smiled. “Good. Eggs’ll be done soon.”

“Thanks. Want some coffee?”

Tyler nodded and you started brewing it from the pot, grabbing two mugs and setting them beside each other.

After breakfast and coffee, Tyler headed for a shower and you got changed into some fresh clothes. You’d also found his inside one of the closets so, after pulling back the bed covers, you laid his clothes out at the foot of the bed.

“Hey, Ty? I’m gonna head up to-”

You’d been focusing on tying the bottom of your shirt up as you walked the short distance out of the bedroom and past the sofa, ready to call through the door to him. However, without looking up, you ran into something.

At first, you figured it was the door, but when the door suddenly grew arms, steadied you and spoke, you realised what had actually happened.

Stood, his waist wrapped in a towel, his hair still dripping a little from the water, Tyler had opened the door.

And there you stood, suddenly dumbfounded, in his arms, unsure of what to do.

“Uhh, sorry. I-I didn’t.” Your mind seemed to take a mental picture of the Tyler that stood in front of you in that moment, and for the life of you, you couldn’t understand why.

“You okay?”

Clearing your throat, you stepped back and out of his grasp. “Yea-yep. Yes. All good. I was just gonna…”

You forced yourself to look at his face before he thought you were checking him out.

“I was gonna head up to the barn. I’ve, uhh, I’ve left your stuff in..in the bedroom.”

You started to make a break for it towards the front door and Tyler remained in his position, watching you.

“Sure you’re okay?”

You nodded firmly. “Just peachy.”

Tyler couldn’t help but smile a little as he watched you leave after getting so flustered. But, shaking his head, he turned back towards the bedroom. He hadn’t meant for that to happen, but something inside of him was glad it did.

The rest of the day, you tried to keep your mind focused on your tasks rather than constantly replaying what had happened that morning. Tyler. His arms. His grip. His body. His eyes. His voice. Him.

None of that was helped when you saw him walking up the small hill towards the barn, his wranglers being filled in all the right places.

“Stop it.” You told yourself over and over and over again. Even more so when he leaned over you from behind your chair, asking about the data collection. How was it that a man could still smell so good hours after taking a shower? Immediately, your mind projected the towel-wrapped image of him from that morning.

“Stop it.”

Tyler hummed a response, not having heard you.

“Nothing,” you brushed it off. And he just shrugged.

However, you weren’t the only one confused by your sudden replay of the morning going over in your head.

“Stare at her any longer and somebody might think you’re in love.”

Tyler turned and looked back at Dexter. “What are you talking about?”

Dexter smiled. “I’ve seen the way you’ve been looking at her. If you’re not looking around this barn for her, you’re looking at her.”

“No, I’m not.” Tyler tried to laugh it off. But then he found himself looking back at you. Your reaction to him coming out of the shower kept playing on his mind. As did the feeling of you being in his arms this morning before he woke up again.

Standing and leaning behind you as you sat at your desk allowed for your shampoo to fill his senses. And it took him right back to being in bed with you after ushering you to bed. He’d woken up just a little before the sun had come up. His arms were already around you, but he wouldn’t have moved in fear of waking you considering you were holding his arms to you.

Calming himself down, your shampoo filled his senses and imprinted the feeling and image of you in his mind. So, when he stood with you, that feeling came right back.

He must have fallen back to sleep, too, because when he woke up, he heard the sink running in the bathroom.

“Dex, can I ask you something?”

“Sure. So long as it’s not how to read Y/n’s handwriting. What does this even say?”

Leaning over him, Tyler read it. “Continued on page five.”

Dexter nodded, a little shocked. “What’s your question?”

“When…” He looked back at you for a moment before tearing his gaze away. “When do you know something is changing?”

“Is this about you and Y/n? Because I have to say, I think you might be the last to know.”

“What?”

Dexter started listing things off. “The way you look at her? The way she looks at you? The fact you’re the only one she’ll listen to, or you’re the only one who can read her handwriting?”

Tyler shrugged. “You get used to it after a while. But, I…”

“Did something happen?”

Tyler shook his head. “Technically, no.”

“But you wish it had?”

“That’s the thing. I don’t know if I did or not. We’re friends. We’ve only ever been friends. Why would things start changing now?”

“Maybe now is the time.” Dexter said. “It’s like you say, a tornado is part science, part religion. Some things, or at least part of them, can’t always be explained. You and Y/n have a deep connection. You’re friends. Maybe now it’s time to explore things further.”

Taking one final look over at you, Tyler didn’t know what to do.

“Maybe.”

Tyler wrestled with the idea for a week or more. You’d both been friends for a long time. And, sure. Maybe he’d checked you out once or twice over the years. He wasn’t blind. You were beautiful. Why you were still single baffled him. And, yeah, maybe he’d felt a little jealous when someone from a bar would ask you to dance with them. But that didn’t mean he was catching feelings, did it?

Except, the longer time went on, the more he could feel them becoming more noticeable. He kept catching himself looking at you throughout the day, His heart and stomach kept doing a weird ‘hop, skip and jump’ thing every time he saw you. Except, it had started to be whenever he even thought about you. Whenever he saw you in one of the guy’s t-shirts that wasn’t his, he felt a pang in his chest, but when he saw you in his…he had to leave the room for fear of the extent of his emotions showing up in front of everyone.

And just when he thought he was getting better at hiding his feelings, Boone asked him a question.

“When are you gonna ask her out, dude?”

Tyler, who had been on the roof of his truck since you got back from another tornado chase, stopped what he was doing and looked down at Boone.

“What?”

Pausing where he was in the book you had given him only a few hours ago to keep him occupied, Boone looked at Tyler. “You’ve been watching her all day.”

Tyler looked back at his work, rather than back at you. You were a short way across the farm, helping haul some bags of feed from the truck and into the barn.

“No, I haven’t.”

Boone just laughed. “Come on, man. We all see it. Hell, I’ve seen it since you first met her. D’you know you get this funny look on your face when you look at her? Had it then, have it now. Just louder.”

Tyler just shook his head and mumbled; “Don’t know what you’re talking about.”

This time, Boone stood up. “You’re my brother, Tyler. So I’m gonna tell you straight. You’re in love with, Y/n. So rather than sitting here, thinking about her. Go over there and do something about it. Or else Me and Lily are gonna have to start watching Parent Trap to take some more notes.”

Tyler looked back at Boone. “More notes?”

Boone cleared his throat and shook his head, scuffing his feet on the ground. If Tyler or you knew the lengths they’d gone through to get either one of you this far…

“Dude, just ask her out.”

As he went and sat back down, he watched Tyler look back down the field towards you. Except, that was interrupted by Dani and Dexter heading up the road.

It was from their announcement that everyone found themselves getting dressed up to head to the local bar for a night of country dancing.

However, that caused one problem.

Tyler.

Smelling just as he did a few weeks ago when you ran into his freshly showered, towel-wrapped body.

Filling out his jeans in all the right places.

With a crisp white t-shirt.

And you caught him from the moment he’d taken his backwards cap off his head, throwing it onto his dash and pulling his cowboy hat out, fixing it onto his head.

And the way he was looking at you as you walked down the steps of the house, dressed in your only pair of denim shorts that didn’t need washing, a t-shirt you’d borrowed from Kate since the one you planned on wearing still had motor oil on from when you were helping Dani with the camper, and an oversized checked shirt, along with your cowboy boots; it was giving you more ideas than you needed in your head when it came to Tyler.

“Ready to go?”

Tyler had to look away from you, letting his gaze land on his feet as he nodded and opened up his passenger door for you. “Yep.”

For a moment, you could have sworn he looked nervous. But considering you couldn’t bring yourself to look at him any longer than a second and a half in fear he’d see exactly what you were thinking when you looked at him, you couldn’t be sure.

And when he grabbed your hand half way through the night to bring you onto the dance floor, holding you close to him as you both two-stepped across the old wooden floor, those feelings that had been bubbling inside you for weeks; you could feel them pouring over whatever container you tried to shove them into.

The feeling of his hand on your lower back, the feeling of his hand in yours, the feeling you got when he looked at you, and the way his voice sounded, so close to your ear.

“Can I ask you something?”

“Sure.”

“It’s kinda personal.”

You were confused. “Okay?”

Now he just had to find the last shreds of courage to ask you. “Is something…has something…between you and me…is there…”

Each time he said a word, your head rushed around the million different things he was trying to ask you.

“Just spit it out, Tyler.”

“Do you like me?”

No. I love you.

“How’d you mean?” You asked.

Tyler had a few seconds to think how to phrase his question as he spun you out before pulling you back.

“Like, more than usual.”

Now he was starting to confuse himself. “I just…am I imagining things here, or is something…different? Between us, I mean.”

It was your chance to think. Had he been feeling it too? The way the room felt a lot more claustrophobic, in the good way, when it was just you two? Did he feel your touch as strongly in his bones as you did? Did he…did he love you the same way you did for him?

“It’s just…I feel like I woke up one morning and…I don’t know. You’re the person I’d talk to about this kinda stuff, so…I just thought I’d ask you about this, too. Is there…Is there something changing between us?”

The song slowed and you were completely against Tyler, standing in his space as he stood in yours. Looking up at him and meeting his green eyes, you told him the truth.

“I think it already has.”

From the table in the corner, the others watched you and Tyler slow down and just simply look at each other.

“Think he finally told her?” Lily asked, turning to the other hoping they saw what she did.

“I think she told him.” Dani said, grabbing a handful of chips.

“I think they’ve just told each other.”

Everyone looked at Dexter before turning to look back at you and Tyler on the dancefloor.

You watched as Tyler registered everything you said and after an eternity, he looked up and around the room. You didn’t know what or who he was looking for, but after another moment, he grabbed your hand.

“Come with me.”

You led you towards the back of the bar and out of the doors, the cold air hitting both of you all at once. The sound of the music and people drowned out as the door swung shut behind you both.

“Ty, where are we-”

Swinging you around, you felt Tyler stop you in your tracks before he looked at you. Really looked at you.

“Do you trust me?”

“Of course.”

From day one of meeting Tyler, you knew you could trust him. And you knew you always would.

Brushing the hair from your face, he seemed to finally breathe. And you slowly leaned into his touch. “Y/n…”

He swallowed nervously before asking the question that had been on his mind since the first time he’d woken up with you in his arms.

“Can I kiss you?”

Drawing his eyes from your lips, he looked into yours. You knew if you said no, he would walk away. He wouldn’t question you, he wouldn’t push.

But you wanted him to.

“Yes.”

“Are you su-”

You cut him off, standing a little higher on your toes, you took his face into your hands and pulled him in to kiss you. His hands held you steady at your hips before snaking around your body and holding you flush against him whilst your own arms did the same around his neck.

Parting for a breath, Tyler’s hands were quick to lift you up and you locked your ankles around his hips before your back was up against the cold brick wall.

A small moan left your lips which forced Tyler to pull his lips from yours for a moment.

“Are you okay?”

“Shut up and kiss me, Cowboy.”

Tyler smirked with a small chuckle. “Yes, ma’am.”

One hand holding you under your ass and another pushing through your hair, Tyler kissed you as if your life depended on it.

You died with his kiss, and he brought you back with the next. God, you never wanted it to end.

However, it was forced when you both heard the back door to the bar swing open and crash against the wall before a pair of drunk laughs getting closer.

Thankfully, it wasn’t anyone on the team. Otherwise you and Tyler would have been caught in a very compromising position considering you could feel all of Tyler against your body at that moment.

Looking back at you with a half drunk smile, which you were sure you owned the other half to, Tyler kissed you quickly once more. Before giving you another, and another and another as you slowly unhooked your legs from him and he lowered you to the ground.

“We better get back inside.”

You smiled. “I think the others already have an idea on what we’re doing out here.”

“Still. If we’re gonna go any further, I’d rather make love to you someplace that isn’t behind the back of a bar.”

You blushed. “Make love?”

Tucking a stray hair behind your ear, Tyler leaned down and kissed the shell.

“Would you prefer for me to fuck you? Because I can do that, too, Sweetheart.”

Tyler watched as your cheeks heated. He didn’t have to look at you to know what you were thinking about. Because he was thinking about it, too.

“Come on. We better get inside.”

Pressing a final kiss to your lips, Tyler took your hand and led you back into the bar. You were pretty sure after his question, your brain had been completely fried with thoughts of Tyler fucking you.

Not helped by the fact that when he walked you back inside, he pulled you to stand in front of him, his hands on your waist. “I’m gonna get a drink, you want one?”

You still couldn’t speak so just nodded.

Tyler smiled a little and kissed your temple. “You keep thinking about my question, Sweetheart.”

You felt his hand tap your ass lightly before he walked away and towards the bar and you were left to walk back to where the team had been sitting in the corner. Thankfully, most of them apart from Dexter were up dancing.

“You two finally talk?”

You felt yourself blush. You were glad most of the lights were directed onto the dancefloor or behind the bar. “A little more than that.”

Dexter smiled before taking a sip of his drink and handing you a small sketch.

“Dexter, you’re the only person I know that brings a pad and pencil to a bar.”

He smiled. “Never know when inspiration will strike. Plus, I think you’ll like this one.”

From his pad, he pulled a small piece of card, no bigger than a beer coaster. In the middle stood the outline of two people.

You and Tyler.

Just moments ago, when you were standing on the dancefloor together.

“Dex…”

He smiled. “You keep it. I’m gonna go to the gents.”

Standing up, Dexter walked away just as Tyler reached the table and handed you your drink before sitting beside you with his arm over your shoulders.

“Look at this.”

“It's us.”

You smiled as you watched Tyler take hold of it and examine it for a moment. You could hear the cogs turning in his head but you weren’t sure why. But then he removed his hat and fixed the picture in place on the inner band.

He fixed the hat back onto his head. “Well?”

You smiled. “You look handsome.”

Tyler smiled before leaning in to kiss you, and as he pressed his lips to yours, you both heard the hollering and whistles being blown by the rest of your team on the dancefloor.

You felt yourself blush and chuckle, Tyler doing the same except as you hid your head for a moment on his shoulder, he waved his hands at the other to get them to stop.

Looking back to you with a rested smile on his face, he leaned down and kissed you once more.

“Ready to go home?”

You nodded and went to stand.

“The offer still stands, Sweetheart.”

This time, as he remained seated, you turned back and pressed your knee into your chair, leaning over him as he looked up at you.

“I want both,” you told him. Then you leaned in closer. “But if you’re gonna fuck me, you better fuck me like you mean it.”

It was his turn to blush, but you didn’t get away with not for long because Tyler’s hand came to your hip holding you steady when you kissed him.

“Think you can take me, darlin’. Might need to get you ready first.”

You felt yourself smirk. “After those words and everything that happened outside, I’m already halfway there.”

Considering another tray of drinks made their way to the table in Dexter’s hands, Tyler told Tyler the others wouldn’t be leaving for a good while.

Tyler pressed one last kiss to your lips before he stood and took your hand in his, leading you back through the bar and towards his truck.

“We’ll have to see about that.”

#tyler owens #twisters #tyler owens x reader #tyler owens tornado wrangler #tyler owens x you #tyler owens cowboy scientist #fluff #pining #mutual pining #oblivious idiots #steamy moments #falling in love #glen powell #glen powell tyler owens #glen powell cowboy #cowboy #tyler owens x fe!reader #tyler owens x fem!reader

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1lovehanni · 6 months ago

Text

Fun in Fanmeet (Minju of ILLIT)

Minju x Male Reader (Y/N) Wort count: 2087 words Summary: A fan meeting leads to a fun experience for you.

You have been a fan of Minju ever since RU next; the way she has the visual and talent of a perfect idol is what captured your heart.

She has a unique voice, is a wonderful dancer, has a great personality, and lastly, has a gorgeous visual.

She indeed has such K-actress beauty that if she had pursued her acting career rather than her idol career, she would still flourish.

You’ve been playing the Super Real Me album 24/7, thinking of how this group started from being a nobody to a hit with their title song Magnetic. Eventually, a fanmeet has been announced in their official Twitter account. Reading through it, you saw a chance of having a one-on-one conversation with a member, but it was a random draw during the event. Nonetheless, the important part is to attend your favourite group and meet Park Minju. After the 150th album you just bought, you finally got a ticket for the fanmeet. A week has passed, and the day of the fanmeet is here. You’ve dressed as well as you can. You arrived early to the venue and chatted with some fans. And patiently waited for the fan meet to begin.

After some time, a staff member walked to the stage and announced that the fan meet was about to begin. Excitement rises in yourself; you're about to see Minju in real life. A loud cheer as the members each slowly walk. Yunah was dead gorgeous; same with Iroha and Moka. Then there’s the cutest Wonhee, but your eyes fixated on your princess, the queen of your dreams, the one and only Minju. The flower crown on her head makes her an angel that comes down from heaven to save you. Nonetheless, the fanmeet is starting with their hit song Magnetic. After that, they introduced themselves. Doing challenges, literally being themselves. Two hours have passed, everyone still has the energy to cheer, and the girls are still entertaining. But every event has to come to an end; eventually they draw the winner for the one-on-one convo. Since there are a lot of fans who attended, you thought that there's no chance you can win one, let alone win for Minju. But as the staff was picking the winner for Minju, they called in the person, but they had already left, so they redrawn again. This time, luck had come to you when they called your name.

Y/N is selected for Minju; please come right to the stage. You're dazzled by the announcement, and fans near you congratulate you for winning. You followed the instructions to come near the stage. They gave the five winners an envelope with the time and place where they could have a chit-chat with the idols.

For you, the time is from 10pm to 12 midnight; you thought it's kind of late for a fan meet. It feels like a date for you, which isn't a bad thing but suspicious nonetheless. And the meeting place is private, which makes sense since it's a one-on-one conversation. Arriving at the place, it seems so empty—just 2 bodyguards and 1 staff member. You greeted them and handed them the invitation. Welcome Sir. Y/N, congratulations! Enjoy your date with Minju. ? Huh, did I hear you right? They didn’t talk after that. You entered the place and saw a table for two with a couch right next to it. You didn't mind the place, but suspicion arises since you haven't heard anything for the past 5 minutes. Walking to the door, you noticed the bodyguards and the staff left. You heard footsteps walking toward the door. You instantly hide as if a murderer is on you. The door opened, and a girl walked in. Where’s the guy? Minju said,Umm hi! "Shock.” OMG, why are you there? Ugh, I thought someone was about to kill me. So you won the draw? Yes, I did. I am Y/N, btw, and sorry to startle you. Haha, no worries; it kind of seems like a dark place, right?

Yes, it is.

You two casually just talked to each other for half an hour. You noticed she texted her staff to bring the food. This is fun—she said, Oh, yeah, different from a normal fan meet. Yeah, um, I just noticed my staff for the food; I'm getting hungry. Are you not? Oh, before I got here, I had already eaten. The staff knocked on the door to deliver the food for the two of you. Thank you! Miss Minju, text again if you need something. Both of you munch the food the staff delivered, and deep inside of you is screaming as to how you got to eat with Minju.

After eating, she asked, Do you have a girlfriend or something? No, not at the moment, but you did have? An ex? Ye That's perfectPerfect? Well, I don't know if you're keeping up all this time. But you haven't just won a date with me; something else is better. Something else? Think Y/N; you're running out of time. Your head is full of confusion; you cannot think straight about what Minju just said. A lot of things are going on in your head. As you think, she stood up and got to the couch. Well, if you can't think of what I am referring to, you won't experience it. This just added to your confusion. Minutes passed, and you still can't think of what she's referring to. But then it hit. Is she giving a massage perk? I think I got it. Finally, you got it! But shouldn’t it be a flat bed rather than a couch? Huh? What? Are you thinking of massaging? Well, I can’t think of any. Ugh, you're too innocent but cute too. I like you, Y/N. But this isn't okay; it’s not massaging. Well, it involves massaging, but in a special way, and you're the massagist. Huh? Me? Are you saying random things? Did the food make you think less? Shibal, I can’t take you anymore. It’s so simple yet you can’t get to it. Sorry, it’s just my first time, okay? I don't usually go to Fanmeets. It’s my first time too. Ugh, fine, since you only have an hour with me, I’ll do it. What are you going to do? Have fun, fun with you. Ugh, Y/N, I want you to fuck me here. That’s the prize you won; you won me for 2 hours, babe. What are you on? Are you really Minju? She then pinned you down on the couch, like the captured food of a predator.

This is what you won; I am your prize. So get it now before your time runs out. Min... Minju, I don’t see you like that; I like you but not like this. Why are you so cute? You're making me regret this.What? She then slowly removes her clothes—the white dress and her safety shorts—leaving her in her underwear. You're perplexed by the sight you're seeing. She then goes close to you and unbuttons your shirt. Please be gentle, you said to her. She mirks, going for your mouth. Feeling her dessert to you. You just follow what she desires in you. You alright, she asked. Eyep, I am fine. Strip me, touch my body. Y/N, you earned it. Okay, just like that, good boy. You have a silky smooth skin, Minju. I never imagined this. You’re really my fan, right? You mentioned you watched me in RU next Yes, I am Alright, I am gonna suck your dick now Um, okay, I’ll be gentle, I promise She takes off your pants and briefs. Showing your hard cock to your favourite idol She was shocked by the length and girth you have. Wow, you're so big.

Thank you, I guess.

You gasped from the way she grabbed your rod, spitting on it as a makeshift lube. Slowly jaculating your dick. You are in ecstasy as seconds pass; you feel like you’re going to cum from just a handjob. Ugh, Minju slows down a bit. Am I reaching it already? I guess it's because of me. She slowed down a bit, but this time using her mouth. She kisses your tip, slurping her own spit on it. Tasting your pre-cum is like juice. She then takes it and swallows slowly, inch by inch, in her mouth. How is she good at this? You asked yourself. You thought this was why they'd debuted; they probably got used by the higher-ups. But you cleared that in your mind; you just thought of what is happening at the moment. Slurp.” Hmmm, I love your cock, Y/N. Its so big and juicy. I am glad you like it. I am getting close to it. She swallows all of it while looking at you, having the begging eyes like she's not satisfied. Alright, time to fuck me now, Y/N. You’re special since this is my first time with a fan. Are you not a virgin anymore? She nods, then gets up to align her freshly shaved pussycat with your dick. You feel your body losing strength as it enters the heavens of Minju. Oh my god, you’re so tight. I can’t believe I am inside you, Minju. Just like that, do you like it? Yes, I am getting comfortable now. That's what I want to hear. Now bring me your game. Yeah, fuck me all you want. She's in a cowgirl position on top of you, having the sight of a goddess and her small, cute tits. You moved your hips up, trying out how to fuck a girl.

I am not good! That's right. You’re hitting my G-spot. The face she’s making fuels you. The cute, innocent-looking Minju is now a cute, hottie, sexy girl, wanting to be fucked. After a minute, she told you to change positions. Ugh, maybe doggystyle? I don’t know my position. Hmm, do you want to see my face? Then I’ll lay here and insert it while looking at me. Alright, you did what she said; you have a full view of her from top to bottom. Now, deep in this state, you just want to taste every part of her. You carry her legs to your shoulder and lick her toes. Wow, getting bold, good boy. Just like that, lick my toes. You get close to her as your body starts to lose some energy; getting this close to her wants you to kiss her. You tried to get it, but she avoided it. Um, sorry, no kissing yet. Oh really, my bad. No, I want to cause you’re cute, but that's one of the rules. Okay, Another change of position led both of you to lay down on the couch. This time you can only see her back, but your cock is still in her. Ugh, like that, Y/N, I am going to stop. You want me to stop? No, she shouts, Okay, okay, continue to fuck me like this. You continue to go inside of her, eventually feeling that her walls are getting tighter. Hinting that she's cumming.

Yes, ughh, ohhhh, yesss, just like that, I am cumming, babe. I am about to cum too, Minju GOOD. Yes, cum inside me. Yes, you can cum in me. YES, just fucking cum in me Okay okay OHHHHHHH, Yes cum in me baby. Ugh, this is so good. After cuddling inside her, both of you were just silent on the couch. She then hugged you and kissed your cheeks.

Don't tell them I kissed you, okay? Okay, I won't. Hmm, how about we do this sometime again, but with no time restriction? You down? For real? Yeah, I like you, Y/N. Maybe we can do more. Oh, alright, give me your number. She then gets dressed, giving you a wink. She looks like nothing happened, but the atmosphere in this small corridor is screaming sex.

I had fun. Did you? Yes. Hopefully next time you win again, haha. Well, I will try. Alright, I’ll call you later. Okay. She then left as the time with her ran out. You stand outside thinking of the things that happened today; not only did you meet Illit and Minju, you have just had the best experience a fanboy has ever had.

Hmm, what happened to the other four guys? Fin. A/N: A late Birthday smut for my girl. Is this the first Illit Smut here? Not proofread cuz I am lazy. Also it got fucked halfway in terms of formatting.

#park minju #illit minju #illit #smut #male reader #fan meeting #illit x male reader

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amirasainz · 1 month ago

Note

Hiii I love your blog so much. It always makes me so happy when you post something♥️😘

Can you write like Oscar x reader, where they are both in university and they always meet in the library. It's like the silent love and they slowly fall in love with each other.

Enjoy reading and send some requests

-xoxo, Babygirl 💋

The quiet kind of love

The first time Oscar noticed Yn, she was sitting three tables away from him in Oxford’s grand Bodleian Library. He wouldn’t have given her a second glance if it weren’t for the fact that she was always there. Every evening, just after 6 PM, Oscar would settle in at his usual spot by the arched windows, and without fail, she would be somewhere nearby, always engrossed in her books.

It became a quiet routine. They both came to the library at the same time, stayed until it closed, and left without exchanging a word. The first week, it was coincidence. The second, it became an unspoken ritual.

Oscar was the kind of student who liked order. His desk was neatly arranged with color-coded notes, pencils lined up with perfect precision. He had come to Oxford with a scholarship to study history, and he took every second seriously. He told himself that he didn’t have time for distractions, and Yn, sitting quietly at her table, wasn’t one. But still, he noticed her.

Yn had a quiet intensity about her. She studied with the same focus and determination that Oscar did, but there was something different about the way she immersed herself in her work. Where Oscar’s approach was clinical, Yn’s was passionate. Her fingers would glide through pages, her pencil tapping against the desk when she was deep in thought. She studied literature, and every so often, Oscar would glance up and see her smiling slightly at whatever she was reading.

For a long time, they didn’t speak. Neither one seemed inclined to break the silence. It wasn’t awkward, though. The quietness of their shared space felt right, like they both understood the importance of the library and their respective work. It was a kind of peaceful companionship.

Then one evening, as the early chill of October settled into the old stone walls, Oscar glanced up from his notes and saw Yn sitting at her usual spot. But this time, there was something different. She had a takeaway coffee cup in front of her, and without thinking, she stood up and walked over to him.

Oscar blinked in surprise as Yn set the cup down next to his laptop. “I noticed you always look exhausted by the time we leave,” she said, her voice soft and even. “Thought you might need this.”

He didn’t know what to say. His brain stalled for a moment before he managed to mumble, “Thanks.”

Yn nodded, a small, polite smile on her face, and returned to her seat. That was it. A coffee, a thank you, and then back to silence.

The next evening, when Oscar arrived, he brought two packets of biscuits with him. After half an hour, he quietly stood up and walked to her table. Yn looked up, her wide, curious eyes meeting his for a second before she noticed the snacks.

“Here,” he said simply, holding them out. “I figured you might get hungry.”

Yn’s lips curved into a full smile this time, not the reserved one he had seen before. She took the biscuits with a small nod. “Thank you, Oscar.”

He felt a warmth spread through him, hearing her say his name for the first time. How did she know? Then he remembered their IDs had been out on the table one time when the librarian was checking their books, and she must have caught a glimpse. He liked how his name sounded in her voice—like it was meant to be there.

“See you tomorrow?” she asked, more a statement than a question.

“Yeah,” Oscar replied, surprised by how natural it felt.

From then on, every evening they brought small things for each other—Yn’s coffee, Oscar’s snacks, sometimes even a scribbled note with a suggestion for a book they thought the other would enjoy. They still didn’t talk much, but the silence between them felt comfortable, not awkward. There was something more than just the quiet. It was shared, and it was theirs.

Weeks passed, and as November approached, the air grew cooler. Oscar found himself looking forward to the evenings more than ever. It wasn’t just the books or the studying—it was the simple act of seeing Yn, knowing she would be there.

One Friday, the library was quieter than usual. Most students had gone home early for the weekend, but Oscar and Yn remained, tucked into their usual places. After about two hours, Oscar stretched, his back aching from sitting so long, and when he looked over at Yn, she was staring at him.

She blinked, caught off guard for a moment, then smiled. “Want to take a break?” she asked, her voice soft.

Oscar hesitated. They had never taken breaks together before. But he nodded, feeling something stir in his chest. “Yeah. Let’s go for a walk.”

They left the library and wandered through the cobbled streets of Oxford, the night air crisp and cold. Their breath hung in the air like ghosts, and for the first time, they talked.

Yn spoke about her love for literature, her fascination with stories that revealed something hidden about the world. Oscar shared his passion for history, for the way people and events could shape entire civilizations. They walked for hours, moving from topic to topic as if they had always known each other. It wasn’t forced; the conversation flowed easily, like it had been waiting to happen.

“I’ve always thought Oxford was the perfect place to study,” Yn said as they paused by a bridge, watching the river flow beneath them. “The history here, the way the buildings seem to have stories of their own… It feels like the right place to find something, or someone.”

Oscar turned to look at her, the moonlight casting a silver glow on her features. He wanted to ask her what she meant by “someone,” but instead, he just said, “Yeah, it does.”

When they returned to the library, neither of them mentioned the walk. But from that night on, something had changed. They no longer sat in complete silence; sometimes, one would quietly comment on a passage they were reading, and the other would respond. They didn’t need to talk much, but the few words they shared each night felt more meaningful than entire conversations with anyone else.

By December, their routine had deepened. One evening, when Yn arrived, Oscar was already there, waiting with her coffee and a small smile. She sat down, and without thinking, reached across the table, her fingers lightly brushing his hand. She started to pull away, embarrassed, but Oscar’s hand moved to meet hers.

The touch was brief, barely more than a second, but it felt like something had shifted. Neither of them spoke about it, but from that night on, their hands would meet under the table, fingers brushing, lingering longer each time. It wasn’t something they planned or discussed, but it felt natural, like a quiet confession they both understood.

One evening, after the library had emptied, Yn leaned over her desk and whispered, “Do you ever feel like this is the best part of the day?”

Oscar looked up from his notes, surprised by her sudden admission. “Yeah,” he said honestly. “I do.”

She smiled, her eyes soft. “I like this. Us.”

“Me too,” Oscar said quietly. His heart was pounding, and before he could stop himself, he reached across the table and took her hand fully in his. This time, she didn’t pull away.

The weeks leading up to Christmas were filled with more moments like that. They spent their evenings together, sometimes in silence, sometimes whispering small things to each other. They held hands more often now, not hiding it under the table but keeping them interlocked where they could see. It was as if every day, they allowed themselves to fall a little more into the connection they had been building.

Then, one night, just as the library was about to close, Yn looked over at Oscar, her eyes serious. “Oscar,” she said softly.

“Yeah?”

She hesitated, as if searching for the right words, then spoke. “I think I’m falling in love with you.”

Oscar stared at her, the words settling over him like a blanket. He knew, in that moment, that he felt the same. He had felt it for weeks but hadn’t been able to put it into words.

“I think I’m falling in love with you too,” he said, his voice steady but full of emotion.

Yn smiled, her eyes shining. And for the first time, they both understood that the quiet library, the long nights, the coffee and biscuits—it had all led to this. Their unspoken connection had turned into something real, something they could no longer ignore.

Oscar leaned across the table, and in the soft glow of the library’s lamps, he kissed her, gently, just for a moment. It was a quiet kiss, fitting for the quiet love that had grown between them.

When they pulled away, Yn’s smile widened. “Let’s keep meeting here,” she whispered.

“Always,” Oscar replied, knowing that now, the library was more than just a place to study. It was where they had found each other.

And so, they did.

#formula 1 #formula 1 x reader #oscar piastri #xoxo babygirl 💋#oscar piastri x reader #oscar piastri x you #lando norris x reader #charles leclerc x reader #max verstappen x reader #lewis hamilton x reader #fluff #f1 x reader

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babygirlwritessmut · 18 days ago

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♡︎ part1. get me out of here

MINORS DNI!

・❥・pairing: vi (arcane) x fem!reader

・❥・ summary: your relationship with your partner ended badly, but support came from where you did not expect it. Vi. is this the start of a new friendship or something else?

・❥・ genre: smut + kinda friends to lovers

・❥・ word count: 2k

✎ warnings: 18+, mention of smut, cheating, smoking, alcohol, swearing

WHEN I NEEDED YOU masterlist

in a small town like this, everyone always knows each other, and yours was no exception. you were comfortable with everything in its place: your neighbors who hosted the best barbecue in town, your best friend who lived across the street, and your boyfriend, one of the most handsome guys on your college football team.

when you came of age, you had a choice to make: either move to the big city or stay in your hometown with friends. you chose the second one, and it was the best decision of your life. you even enjoyed living with your parents; you were lucky to have them, and the only rule in the house was never to lie. your parents never saw a reason to forbid you from going to parties and dates, as you weren’t a problematic kid. if there was a party, you just told them the address and when you’d be back.

tonight was one of those parties, hosted by your boyfriend Troy at his place. his team had won the game, and honestly, you didn’t understand much about the sport, but you had to support your partner. you even tried to join the cheerleading squad, but jumping around in a short skirt wasn’t your thing.

getting ready for the party, you looked at yourself in the mirror. for the night, you chose your blue jeans and a red top - comfortable and stylish.

“mom, I'm going to Troy's, I'll be back around midnight!” you called out, running downstairs from your room. your parents’ bedroom was downstairs, so your mom didn't hear you immediately.

“sweetie, did you call me?” your mom responded from the bedroom. when you entered, your dad was already asleep, and your mom was reading a book beside him.

“yeah, I said I’ll be late; there’s a party at Troy’s to celebrate the team’s win,” you said, approaching her and kissing her on the cheek.

“alright, be careful. school tomorrow, so don’t have too much fun,” your mom winked at you.

“okay, love you,” you said, closing the door behind you as you left.

Troy's house was already packed, and it wasn’t hard to spot the whole team in the center of the room, with everyone applauding while your boyfriend thanked the team for their hard work. you noticed all his friends were there.

“and here’s my good luck charm!” he pulled you by the hand and kissed you. “babe, congratulate the best players! Josh, Vi, and I totally crushed the other team!” he shouted, and everyone started cheering and clapping again.

you smiled and congratulated everyone; Josh hugged you, while Vi just nodded. you noticed that Josh already smelled heavily of alcohol; his green eyes were red and tired. he could never hold his liquor but could never turn Troy down. Vi, on the other hand, looked very sober with a glass in her hand.

half an hour later, you were sitting on the couch with Trish, your best friend, who was happily chatting and filling you in on the latest news. you laughed together, occasionally glancing at your boyfriend, who was, as always, the center of attention.

“I really want to make a move on Vi, she looks so attractive tonight. did you notice how her pink hair looks especially nice today?” Trish adjusted her dress to make her chest more noticeable.

“honestly, I hadn’t noticed,” you laughed.

“you have to ask her if she likes me, but don’t tell her I was asking,” your friend grabbed you by the shoulders.

“and how am I supposed to do that? we’re not that close; if it weren’t for Troy, I wouldn’t even be talking to her tonight,” you looked at your friend in surprise.

“I don’t know, think of something, please,” she looked at you with puppy eyes, and you nodded. “fine, I’ll think of something.”

“yay, you’re the best! now let’s go dance; I’m tired of sitting here!” Trish tried to pull you up.

“no, you go; I’ll join in a bit,” you said, and with that, your friend left you. you thought about how much you disliked being the center of attention. that was probably why you were friends. opposite personalities - she energized you, while you calmed her down. you had been friends since school; you loved her brightness and energy. you balanced each other out.

you drifted into thoughts and memories while sipping your beer when someone joined you. it was Josh; it seemed he hadn’t even noticed you as he collapsed onto the couch. just as you were about to ask if he needed help, he threw up right by his feet.

“ew, Josh,” you grimaced, jumping up from the couch. this party didn’t seem so fun anymore.

“I need to find Troy and say goodbye; it’s time to go home,” you said to yourself, setting your glass down in the kitchen before heading off to look for your boyfriend. Troy was nowhere to be found, so you decided to check the bedroom, half-expecting to find him passed out on the bed like Josh. climbing upstairs, you opened the door to his room, but what you saw shocked you. Troy was standing there, pants down, while some girl was giving him a blowjob. your breath stopped; you couldn’t process what was happening. a second later, you were running downstairs, and as you burst outside, you could hear Trish calling out to you, but there was a ringing in your ears.

“fuck, no,” tears streamed down your face, the feeling of betrayal cutting you from the inside out. you wanted to scream, but couldn’t make a sound. catching your breath, you looked up to see Troy's car in front of you. without thinking, you started kicking the tire, your eyes still wet, but your sadness slowly turning to anger.

“I’ve got a baseball bat in my car if you want,” you turned to see Vi standing by the neighboring car, smoking a cigarette and watching your emotional meltdown.

“what?” you asked, though you had heard her words clearly.

“if you keep going like this, you’ll hurt your leg,” she said, exhaling smoke slowly. in response, you only nodded, to which Vi smiled and pulled a bat from her trunk. when she handed it to you, you took it without hesitation, raised it, but something held you back.

sadness filled your body once again, and you simply lowered the bat, looking down at your feet. no matter how painful this betrayal was, you couldn’t bring yourself to damage someone else’s property; the consequences weren’t worth it. your head started spinning, and you felt yourself falling. a moment later, you felt strong arms catch you.

“careful, or you’ll end up breaking your head instead of the car,” Vi’s voice was soft as she leaned you against her car and handed you a glass.

“no, I don’t want any alcohol,” you said, wiping away tears and finally getting a clear look at her face. she looked at you a bit nervously.

“it’s water. I’m driving," she replied. you reached for the glass, and your hands touched. you felt the unexpected warmth of her hands against your cold ones; it was a pleasant sensation. after drinking some water, you composed yourself. Vi was watching your every move, making you feel shy, so you averted your eyes.

“thanks, and sorry about all this,” you mumbled under your breath. it seemed Vi wanted to say something, but Troy’s voice echoed from the doorway.

“hey babe, why are you out here? come to me!” the feeling of disgust rose in your throat, and you looked at Vi with frightened eyes.

“please, get me out of here,” you whispered, desperate to escape without breaking down again. she just nodded, and the two of you got into the car. it seemed like Troy was yelling something after you, but you didn’t care anymore.

the evening city lights flashed outside the window as you drove in silence, while someone sang an unfamiliar song on the radio. you glanced at Vi; she was focused on the road. her pink hair looked really beautiful, and she wore a white shirt that highlighted her toned arms. her fingers tapped along with the song. you noticed how relaxed her face looked; from the side, her thick brows and full lips were even more attractive. Trish had been right after all.

a few minutes later, the car stopped, and you looked around. lost in your thoughts, you hadn’t even asked where you were headed.

Vi stepped out of the car, and you did the same. when you saw the view, you were pleasantly surprised. you were on a hill overlooking the whole town; it lay below like it was right in your palm. Vi sat on a bench by the edge, and you followed. she was the first to break the silence.

“I don’t know what happened, but from your state, I figured you needed a quiet place,” she looked into your eyes, waiting for you to respond.

“you’re absolutely right,” you said, taking a deep breath before continuing. “Troy cheated on me. some girl was sucking his dick in his room while I was downstairs.” a tear rolled down your cheek again.

Vs just nodded and wiped away your tear with her thumb. you took her hand in yours and drew a deep breath again.

“you know, this is my secret spot. I’m not sure anyone else knows about it but me. sometimes I come here to take a break from people.”

“well, now I know about it too,” you smiled at her.

“you’re not the worst person to show it to,” Vi winked at you.

you laughed and squeezed her hand. “thanks for helping me.”

“I suggest we change the subject - you need a distraction,” she said, turning to face you.

“do you like anyone?” you asked unexpectedly.

“wow, where did that come from?” she raised her eyebrows in surprise.

“oh, don’t take it the wrong way! I’m just curious, asking for a friend,” you awkwardly released her hand and laughed. “it’s just… someone likes you, so I thought I’d ask… how about Trish, for example?”

“I don’t know; she’s nice, but not my type,” Vi still looked into your eyes.

“why? do you like someone else?” you felt a little disappointed, knowing Trish wouldn’t like that answer.

“yes, maybe,” she said, taking a cigarette from her pocket, lighting it, and shifting her gaze to the city and the starry sky.

“do I know this person?” you grew incredibly curious - you’d never seen Vi show interest in anyone, especially romantically.

“do you need to know everything?,” Vi said, laughing softly. “you should head home now; I’ll drive you,” she added, tossing her cigarette and walking to the car. just as you were about to sit in the passenger seat, Vi draped a red leather jacket over your shoulders.

“you’re freezing - put this on to stay warm.” you liked the feeling of her hands on your shoulders. you felt safe.

the drive home was quiet again, but it was comfortable. growing up in the same town, you sometimes talked, but after you started dating Troy, Vi began showing up in your life more often. you didn’t talk much; sometimes you thought you annoyed her, though maybe that was just her way. Vi wasn’t talkative or the life of the party, but tonight’s gesture had genuinely surprised you. you’d never imagined you’d find help and support from her of all people.

when you arrived at your house, you thanked Vi again and hugged her. her warm body pressed against yours, and you didn’t want to break the embrace. her hands rested on your waist, and it felt right. when you pulled back, you realized your faces were very close. your breath grew heavy as your eyes flickered between her lips and eyes. you mumbled something resembling a goodbye and rushed inside.

as you climbed up to your room, you realized you’d forgotten to return her jacket.

“what a strange day,” you murmured, falling onto your bed and quickly drifting off to sleep, thinking about Vi, still wrapped in her jacket.

#vi arcane #vi #vi from arcane #vi fanfic #vi arcane x reader #vi x reader #when i needed you

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enbyfrogwrites · 11 months ago

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you're so needy, baby

first actual post, be kind!

tags: mommy kink, sub! choso, smut, begging, afab reader but reader is nb coded, reader is mixed coded but there's nothing pertaining to race tho outwardly, begging, cockwarming, needy!choso, dom!reader, 18+

also i tried my best but there's going to be spelling error and shit, i'm only one person and im sorry. Also decided to end it early because I don’t think that it’s that good. But if you want me to actually finish it, shoot me an ask.

word count: ~1.7k

It started that you wanted to play your game, and Choso kept asking for attention. He kept standing by your side even though you just started your new quest in your game. It was going to take awhile. You kept looking up at him when you saw him shuffling side to side from the corner of your eyes.

"Cho," You voice soft, this was your first forreal day off that you didn't have to do errands or still go on missions. You wanted to play your game. It's been weeks. "What is it that you need, baby?"

Your boyfriend just silently pulled at your sleeve, giving you a pout.

"If you want something, you have to tell me, I can't read minds." You pause your game and full turn to face the poor curse.

"I just..." His voice so quiet and sounds? Whiny? "I really miss you, Mommy."

oh. Oh.

"You miss Mommy, baby?" You coo, your face splitting into a toothy grin. You watch him nod, his face flushing such a pretty shade of pink.

"We...we haven't done it in so long," His voice was most definitely whiny. He wasn't wrong, since you were sent on back to back missions, all you did when you got home was just...sleep. The only thing you two did for the past couple weeks was scattered blows and handies. You understood where he was coming from.

But you really wanted to play your game. You also happened to look down, and see that Choso was half hard in the joggers you bought him. A bright idea crossed your mind, making you giggle slightly. It was perfect.

"How about this," You purr, your hands reach out and caress his stomach through his shirt. You watch as his body tensed and breath hitched. It made you smile softly. He's such a needy boy.

"I'll warm your cock, baby. I'll sit on your cock, and you be good for Mommy, okay?" You watch as his face twist in lust and confusion.

"Let Mommy play their game for one hour, okay? If you don't move and be a good boy, Mommy will let you fuck their hole however you want to, sound okay, Cho?"

Choso's face brightened up, you watched as his cock gave an interested twitch in the joggers.

"So... I can fuck Mommy if I'm good?" His voice was too cute, it was so hopeful and happy.

You nod, your lips giving your boyfriend a small smile of encouragement. "But, you're not allowed to move in me for one full hour. If you're able to do that, then yes." You really wanted to clarify the last part. You still really wanted to play your game.

Choso nodded, his face bright pink in lust and his facial expression showed so much excitement. You get off your office chair and motion for him to sit in it. You watch as he clammers into the chair, his hands fidgeting in his lap. His pants was still on…now that just won’t do.

You decided to pull the chair out from the desk, his hands grabbing on to the arm rests of your chair as you move him back. You move the chair far enough that you can slot yourself between the desk and your boyfriend, with space to move. You bend down to gently tug at Choso’s pants, pulling softly at each pant leg to get your point across. He dutifully lifts up his hips and you pull his pants down. He wasn’t wearing any underwear.

“Oh you, slut. No underwear? You’re so needy, baby!” You laugh, not maliciously but out of surprise. Generally he always kept his underwear on even at home, it was a habit he picked up from living with Yuuji before coming to live with you. He’s so desperate. It was so cute.

Choso nodded, his flushed face deepening in color. “I missed you so much, Mommy.” Your heart fluttered, god he was so cute. You were wearing one of your boxers only, so you swiftly pulled them off and tossed them off to your bed which was next to your desk. You watched as your boyfriend’s cock jumped, his cock almost all the way hard just from taking off both of your bottoms.

“This only works if you’re fully hard, so I’m gonna suck on it okay? Don’t move, okay? Be a good boy.” He gulped, his blush went down his neck and to his chest.

You didn’t wait for a response, you carefully dropped to your knees so you don’t land on your boyfriend’s feet. You looked back up at his face, looking at his lust filled eyes as you carefully brought the tip of his cock to your lips. Choso gasped quietly as you began to go down on him, your brain storing all his beautiful sounds in your memory bank for later. You sucked as much as you could comfortably fit in your mouth, making sure not to swallow around his hard length. After all, it’s just to make sure he’s completely hard not to actually get him off. You pulled back and went down again, doing this action a handful more times. Each time you took a bit more of his length in your mouth than the last. By this point Choso began panting, his mouth was open and he was mewling pathetically at the attention that you were giving him. You watched as his face began to scrunch up, his eyebrows furrowing cutely as he whined softly and gripped the arms of your desk chair.

You decide to pull off, which caused Choso to whimper. “Mommy, you felt so good though!” Choso was adorable, his eyes had tears in the corners from the stimulation.

“I know baby, but I told you I just wanted to just get you hard so you can slide in my hole, remember?” You were teasing him, you hand coming to gently stroke the tip of his cock. You felt his cock twitch in your hand deliciously, making you smile up at him. “Only for an hour, okay?”

You stood up and pulled up your shirt a little, it was baggy and you didn’t want it to catch on his cock or anything else. You leaned down a little bit and kissed Choso, your lips only going for a peck then pulling away. It was adorable seeing the poor curse trying to follow your lips. You turned around and felt Choso’s hands grab at your back, massaging your rolls lovingly as you pulled the chair closer to the desk with one hand. It was nice, your boyfriend didn’t care what you looked like, he loved your fat stomach, all your stretch marks and cellulite. It made you so happy that Choso genuinely love you for you, and wasn’t an asshole or embarrassed by you being fat. It made your heart soft when you felt his right hand snake its way to your front and rubbed at your stretch mark covered apron belly. You loved him so much. Without much prompting, you reached between your legs and aimed Choso’s cock to your now sopping wet hole. You carefully sat down, sheathing his length inch by inch. It took you a couple moments since your boyfriend was so big, but you finally bottomed out and was fully seated in his lap. Behind you though, you hear Choso gasping and felt him grip at your stomach. You looked behind your shoulder and saw his face was completely blissed out but also tortured. Your boyfriend’s face was so flushed, and his lips were parted and had drool partially leaking out of the corner of his mouth.

“Oh fuck, baby you feel so good around me.” Choso gasped out, his eyebrows furrowing as he opened his eyes to look at yours. “Love your hole, Mommy! It makes my cock feel so good!”

You smile softly as you lean back to give him a kiss. You sloppily landed it on his nose, since that was as close as you could get, but nonetheless you turn back around. You shifted a little, getting a bit more comfortable on your boyfriend’s muscular thighs. The moment made both of you sigh, his shaft was hitting your insides Perfectly, and your hole was clenching around his shaft so good. It was then that you realized with a laugh that you were still too far away from the desk, Not too far away, but too much so that you couldn’t reach your keyboard well enough to actually play.

“Baby?” You ask, your head turning around to look at your boyfriend. “You can move me for a minute or two if you scoot the chair up closer to the desk.”

“Move you on my cock?” Choso sounded so excited.

“Yep! Only for a minute or two, then I’ll play my game. But I can’t play this far away from the keyboard.” You blink at Choso as he smiled at you as he did what you ask in a heartbeat. You felt yourself and him scoot across the hardwood floor in a smooth motion, his thighs clenching as he flexed his legs to propel forward. Choso propelled you two enough so you can reach your keyboard and pull it closer to you. He left enough room so your stomach wasn’t digging into the desk, he was so considerate. God you loved him.

“Okay, you can move for only two minutes then you’ll let me play, okay?” You grinned at Choso as you felt him grab at your hips and sides, and hefted you up. Since he was a half-curse, his strength was able to carry you with no problems. He swiftly brought you down, your ass smacking against his pelvis with a loud slap. You grab at your desk as he lifted you up and began a brutal pace. You were left moaning helplessly. Your body jolting with each time Choso meeting you halfway. You look at your desktop and see that two minutes has passed and you reach down and grab at Choso’s legs, making him come to a halt.

“Baby, that’s two minutes.” You grinned wolfishly.

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jetii · 1 month ago

Text

Until Morning

Pairing: Wolffe x Jedi!Reader / Wolffe x fem!Reader

Words: 12,758

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! angst, hurt/comfort, fluff, established relationship, forbidden relationship, smut, soft dom!Wolffe, orgasm denial, fingering, oral (f receiving), dirty talk, praise kink, overstimulation, multiple orgasms, marking (in both ways), the beginning is filthy but he's actually so sweet in this, well ok it's all filthy, they are in looovvve

Summary: After confessing your feelings for each other, you and Wolffe carry on. During the day, you're nothing but professional, but what happens behind closed doors is something else entirely.

Prompts: 67. “It’s taking all my self control not to bend you over the table and fuck you right here.” & 92. “Fuck, knowing that you’re walking around filled with my cum has me so hard.”

A/N: I spilled angst all over the smut again, sorry! Hope sweet, affectionate Wolffe makes up for the bits of sad. I'd recommend reading For One Night first if you haven't already. Thanks @aynavaano for the inspo I needed to write this sequel and for inspiring the original!

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Waking up next to someone was a feeling you had yet to get used to, but it was certainly not something you would complain about. The warm, firm body beside you, the steady rise and fall of his chest, the sound of his breathing — it's a balm on your weary soul, and a reminder that for a little while, at least, you aren't alone.

You open your eyes and watch him, his features soft and peaceful. In sleep, the lines of stress and worry are gone, the scar stretching across his eye less harsh, and Wolffe looks almost boyish, his expression open and vulnerable. Your heart clenches at the sight, and you resist the urge to reach out and stroke his cheek.

In the early hours of the morning, it's easy to forget what awaits you both outside this room. To imagine a world where you could stay like this forever, the two of you lost in each other. You'll take what few moments you can get, though, and treasure them.

Wolffe stirs beside you, his face scrunching up in annoyance, and he lets out a grunt. That was something you were used to — how grumpy and irritable he could be in the mornings. It's endearing, and you stifle a smile, knowing he would grumble even more if he saw it.

"I can hear you thinking," he mutters, his eyes still squeezed shut. "Go back to sleep."

"Good morning," you reply, amused.

"No, it's not."

He turns his face, burrowing deeper under the covers, and you bite your lip hard to keep from laughing. He's a notorious grump in the mornings, and you'd learned the best way to deal with it is to leave him alone and let him wake up at his own pace, but when you try to get up, his arm snakes out, pulling you back against him.

"Wolffe!"

"Where do you think you're going?" he rumbles, his voice husky.

"To start the day," you tell him. "Some of us have a meeting to get to."

"No," he protests, his arm tightening around your waist. "Canceled."

"It's not canceled," you huff, but the protest is half-hearted, and when his hand slides down to your hip, squeezing the flesh, you can't help but lean back into him, a soft sigh escaping you.

"Not yet," he murmurs as his fingers trace circles on your skin. "Stay here a little longer."

"Plo is expecting you," you say, the reminder more for yourself than him. "You have a lot of work to do."

"I'm sure the General will understand," he says.

You know you should be the responsible one here, but it's hard to resist him. Especially when his lips are ghosting along the sensitive spot beneath your ear, his breath hot against your skin. It's tempting, too tempting, and your resolve crumbles.

"Fine," you relent. "But not too long."

Wolffe smirks, triumphant, and his lips find yours, capturing them in a deep kiss. You melt into him, your body sinking against his, and you lose yourself in the sensation, the feel of him surrounding you. His hand drifts down, tracing the curve of your waist, and he tugs you closer, his hardness pressing into your hip.

"Wolffe," you mumble, breaking the kiss. "We shouldn't. I need to report to Plo, and you—"

"Are busy," he interrupts. "Very, very busy. Right now."

"You're impossible," you groan.

"Mm," he hums, his lips trailing down your throat. "Don't worry, jet'ika. I'll make it quick."

Before you can protest, his hand is slipping between your legs, his fingers seeking out the wet heat of your core. He finds your clit, his thumb rubbing lazy circles on the bud, and you gasp, the sound lost in the kiss.

He's insistent, his touch firm and purposeful, and he wastes no time in delving deeper, dipping into your wetness. Two fingers slide inside of you with little resistance, and the stretch is just shy of too much, his thick digits filling you in a way that has you trembling.

"Kriff, you're so wet already," he growls, his mouth pressed against the hollow of your throat. He nips at the sensitive flesh, his stubble scraping against your skin. "Tell me, jet'ika, does the thought of sneaking around turn you on?"

"No," you gasp, even as your hips buck against his hand.

"Liar," he chides.

Wolffe pulls his fingers out, and before you can whine in protest, he flips you over, pinning you beneath him. His gaze is dark, pupil blown in his single gold eye, and the predatory look on his face makes your toes curl. He leans down, his mouth pressing against the shell of your ear.

"Do you know what I'm going to do?" he murmurs, his breath hot against your skin. "I'm going to fuck you. And I'm going to make it quick, just like you asked. But I'm not going to let you come."

"Wolffe—"

"You're going to walk around today with my cum dripping out of you, and every time you see me, you're going to remember how good it felt. You're going to be thinking about how hard you came on my cock last night, and how badly you want to do it again. And you're not going to get to,” he continues. "You're going to have to wait, like a good girl, until we can sneak away again. Until I can fuck you properly."

The words make a wave of heat wash over you, and your cunt clenches around nothing, a desperate ache forming between your legs. You arch against him, seeking friction, but his hands pin your hips to the bed, preventing any movement.

"Understand?"

"Yes," you breathe, your voice shaky, and he rewards you with a sharp nip to the neck.

"That's my girl," he murmurs. He moves to straddle your thighs, and the sudden shift of his weight makes you gasp. You can feel his length, hot and heavy against the curve of your ass, and you can't help but push back, teasing him.

He chuckles, the sound rough.

"Oh, I see how it is," he says, and he pushes you flat, his palm splayed on your lower back. "You're not very good at being patient, are you?"

"You're taking too long," you grumble.

"I told you I was going to make this quick," he says. "So be a good girl and keep still."

He grips your hips, pulling you up, and then he's pushing into you, his length sliding in easily. The stretch is delicious, and you bite your lip, the ache settling low in your belly. He fills you perfectly, the angle allowing him to sink deeper than before, and you moan, the sensation of being full almost too much. Your head drops down, resting on the pillow, and he gives an experimental thrust, the motion slow and deliberate.

"Maker," he hisses, his hands digging into the flesh of your hips. "You feel so fucking good."

He sets a punishing pace, his thrusts hard and fast. He fucks you like a man possessed, the sound of his skin slapping against yours echoing in the room. He's not gentle, not sweet, and the contrast of his tenderness the night before and his roughness now has you panting, your fingers twisting in the sheets.

He leans forward, his chest pressing against your back, and the change of position has him hitting a spot deep inside of you, the friction sending sparks dancing across your vision. You whine, and he shushes you, his breath hot against your skin.

"Shh," he whispers. "Gotta keep quiet. Wouldn't want anyone to hear you, would we?"

The thought makes you tremble, and he huffs a laugh.

"Yeah," he says, "you'd like that, wouldn't you? For everyone to hear how good I'm fucking you."

He punctuates his statement with a sharp thrust, the head of his cock hitting the spot again. You clamp a hand over your mouth, muffling the moan that threatens to slip out.

"So good," he growls, his voice low and ragged. "You're so fucking good for me."

His pace becomes frantic, his thrusts losing their rhythm. You can tell he's getting close, his breathing heavy and labored, and you can feel the tension coiling in his muscles, the anticipation of his release making your cunt clench around him. Wolffe hisses, his grip tightening on your hips, and he slams into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt.

The sensation is enough to make your eyes roll back, and you feel him twitch inside you, his cock pulsing. His release is hot and sticky, coating your inner walls, and the knowledge that he's filling you up, marking you as his, sends a rush of arousal through you. The idea is depraved, filthy, and it's only your hand covering your mouth that keeps you from crying out.

You can't help but grind back against him, the pressure inside you almost too much. His hands grip your hips, holding you still, and he chuckles, his lips trailing along the shell of your ear.

"Ah, ah," he chides, "be a good girl and take it."

You bite your lip, trying to ignore the desperate need building inside you, but the friction is almost too much, the sound of his voice whispering in your ear making the ache worse. You're trembling, the tension in your body coiled tight, and the only thing you can focus on is the feel of him inside you, his cock stretching you wide.

And then he's pulling out, his length sliding free. The sudden emptiness inside you is a shock, and you can't help the small whimper that escapes. He shushes you, his fingers stroking the curve of your hip.

"What did I say?"

"Wolffe," you gasp, your voice hoarse. "Please, I need—"

"No."

He moves off you, the mattress shifting, and the loss of his warmth is almost enough to make you sob. He runs his hand along your spine, the touch soothing.

"Turn over."

You do as he asks, rolling onto your back, and the sight of him, his pupils blown and his chest flushed, is almost enough to undo you. He leans over, his hand coming up to cradle the side of your face, and his thumb traces the curve of your cheek.

"Fuck, you're so beautiful," he murmurs, his eyes burning. Your cheeks flush, the compliment making your heart skip a beat, and he gives you a soft, almost sad, smile.

"You really are, you know," he says, his voice thick. "Beautiful."

His other hand trails down, brushing against your thigh, and he grips your leg, his fingers digging into the flesh.

"I want to see you."

You open your mouth to ask him what he means, but the words die in your throat as he pushes your legs apart, his gaze zeroing in on the spot between your thighs. The action is intimate, almost obscene, and you can't help the flush that spreads across your cheeks, but he doesn't seem to notice.

"Perfect," he mutters. "Kriff, you're perfect."

His fingers move, his knuckles brushing against the wetness that's gathered between your folds. You whimper, the touch almost painful, and he lets out a rough sound before sliding his fingers into you. You can feel him pushing his cum back inside you, the action somehow more erotic than anything else he's done, and the thought makes you blush even more.

"That's it," he murmurs. "There you go.”

You can't help but push back, grinding yourself against his palm, and his fingers press against the spot deep inside of you, the pleasure making your vision blur.

"Oh, fuck," you breathe.

He leans forward, his breath hot against your ear.

"If you can make it through the day," he says, his voice low and rough, "I promise I'll make it worth your while. I'll take my time. I'll taste every inch of you. I'll lick my cum out of you, and then I'll fuck you until you can't walk."

The promise makes your toes curl, and you whimper, the ache inside of you almost too much.

"Wolffe, please—"

"Commander?"

There's a knock at the door, and the sound of a voice just outside is enough to make your heart drop through your stomach. Wolffe's head snaps up, and he curses, his expression shifting from lust to irritation in an instant.

"What?" he calls out.

"Sir, it's Sinker," the trooper replies. "General Plo wanted me to remind you of your meeting with him. You're late."

"I'm aware," Wolffe grits out.

He glares at the door, jaw clenched, and then he turns back to you, his expression softening. He runs his fingers through your hair, smoothing down the messy strands, and the touch is so tender, the look on his face so vulnerable, that it almost makes your heart stop.

"We'll finish this later," he promises. He glances down, his gaze taking in the sight of his fingers buried inside you. "Fuck."

You look at him, and his expression is torn, the desire to stay, to continue where the two of you left off, clear. You bite your lip, trying not to whimper, and he closes his eyes, his nostrils flaring.

"I wish I could just—"

He cuts himself off, and then he's pulling his fingers out, leaving you empty and wanting. You watch, mesmerized, as he brings them to his mouth, his tongue darting out to taste the slickness that coats them.

"Fuck, I can't wait to have you on my tongue," he says.

You whine, the image of his face buried between your thighs making the ache in your core flare, and he smirks.

"I know, cyare," he murmurs. He leans forward, pressing a kiss to your forehead. "Don't worry. I'll take care of you."

"Okay," you whisper.

"Get dressed," he says. "I'll see you at the meeting."

"Right."

He gets up, moving away from you, and the sudden loss of him is enough to make the knot in your chest tighten. The room feels empty, colder, and you swallow hard, the feeling of him still lingering on your skin even as he pulls on his blacks and starts to clip his armor back into place.

"Wolffe," you say softly.

He pauses, turning to look at you, and the tenderness in his expression makes your heart skip a beat. Wolffe was not a soft man, and the thought of him looking at you like this, like you were something precious, was enough to bring tears to your eyes.

"I love you."

He smiles, a real smile, the kind you don't see often. The kind that reaches his eyes.

"I love you too," he says. "I'll clear the way. You wait five minutes and then follow. Don't make eye contact."

You nod, and he hesitates, the look on his face making it clear that he's just as reluctant to leave as you are. His hand hovers over the control panel, his fingers trembling, and then he lets out a sigh, pressing the button that slides the door open.

"Five minutes," he says.

"Five minutes."

And then he's gone, the door sliding shut behind him. You stare at it, your chest aching, and then you bury your face in your hands, pressing hard against your eyes. You take a few deep breaths, trying to get yourself under control, before you climb out of bed, searching for your discarded robes.

The next few hours are going to be difficult, if not downright painful. You had no idea how you were going to get through them, how you were going to look at him and not see the man who'd held you, touched you, whispered the sweetest things in your ear.

It's a cruel trick, one the universe is playing on both of you, and you know it. But despite the pain, the longing, you would choose him. It's been months since the two of you started sneaking around, stealing moments here and there, and while it's far from ideal, you can't bring yourself to regret any of it.

Despite everything, you're happy. Happier than you've been in a long time. And if the price for that happiness is the constant ache, the longing, the knowledge that you'll never truly be together, then so be it.

Because in the end, it's worth it. He's worth it.

So you dress, ignoring the way the fabric brushes against the sensitive skin between your thighs, clinging to the dampness of your skin, and you steel yourself for what's to come. The rest of the day is going to be miserable, the hours dragging on as the two of you struggle to keep up appearances, but when the night falls and the lights dim, he'll be waiting.

And that is the promise that keeps you going.

"Five minutes," you say to yourself.

You count down the final seconds, the minutes passing agonizingly slowly. When the timer finally hits zero, you let out a shaky breath and push the button, the door sliding open with a hiss.

You step into the hallway, closing the door behind you, and then you square your shoulders, the resolve in your gut steeling you for the hours ahead.

It's going to be a long day.

But the promise of the night to come makes it a little easier to bear.

It's a familiar routine now, the two of you sneaking around.

Hiding in the shadows, finding quiet places where no one will find you. Kissing him, touching him, and letting him do the same. Whispering promises, sweet nothings, and holding him close. The stolen moments, the brief seconds when it's just the two of you and the rest of the galaxy fades away.

It's a dance, a game, and it's one you and Wolffe have been playing for months now.

And yet, there's something new about today. Something different.

This time, there's a hunger, an intensity, to his gaze that wasn't there before. Wolffe has been watching you all day, and each time your eyes meet, it's like a current running between the two of you, an awareness, an acknowledgement.

You know, and he knows, that when the two of you are alone, nothing will stop him from taking you. From claiming every inch of your body. From showing you exactly how much he needs you, how badly he wants you.

The knowledge makes you ache, and the hours crawl by, each second feeling like an eternity. The two of you haven't had the chance to be alone since this morning, and the anticipation is making you tremble. It's a cruel thing, this game, and you've spent the better part of the day trying to keep yourself from looking at him.

It's hard, though.

Wolffe is an imposing figure, his presence commanding. And even with his armor, even when he's not touching you, the pull between the two of you is electric, magnetic.

It's almost painful, this dance the two of you are doing.

He's standing at the front of the command center, his hands clasped behind his back. His shoulders are tense, his expression stoic, and his gaze is trained on the holotable. You know he's only half paying attention, his thoughts no doubt elsewhere.

On you, you think.

You try not to fidget, not wanting to draw attention to yourself, but the longer you stand here, the more aware of him you become. His scent, the way his breath hitches every time someone gets too close. The heat of his body, the way his eyes track your every move.

It's maddening.

You've spent the past few hours working in silence, the two of you trying to avoid raising suspicion, but now, with the day almost done, the tension between you is palpable. You're wound tight, your body thrumming with nervous energy, and the thought of spending another second in this room is making you antsy.

Your gaze flickers to Wolffe, just for a second, and his eyes find yours, the intensity of his stare sending a thrill through you. His expression doesn't change beyond the working of his jaw, but the gold of his iris burns bright, the color shifting as his pupil dilates.

It's a simple gesture, but it's enough.

And it's enough to make the ache between your thighs throb.

He looks away, his focus returning to the hologram in front of him, and the moment passes. But it lingers, the ghost of his gaze, the weight of his attention, settling on you like a physical touch. You're trembling, and it takes every ounce of your willpower not to glance over at him again.

Wolffe is a patient man, a trait that had served him well as a soldier, but when it came to you, that patience was a thin thread. A single strand that could snap at any moment.

And if the look in his eyes is anything to go by, it won't be long before that thread breaks.

"You've done well, Commander," Plo Koon says, his deep voice cutting through the silence.

Wolffe inclines his head, his expression neutral.

"Thank you, General," he replies.

"I appreciate the hard work you've put in. As well as your dedication. It hasn't gone unnoticed."

"It's my duty, sir," Wolffe says stiffly.

"I'm aware that these have been... difficult times."

Wolffe's jaw clenches, but he doesn't respond.

Plo turns, his gaze sweeping the room, and his eyes linger on you, the corners of his mask shifting in what you've come to recognize as a smile. You struggle to return it, and his expression softens. You have a sinking feeling that your former master is aware of more than you'd like, but he doesn't seem upset. If anything, he looks understanding, perhaps even a little sad.

"These are trying times for us all," he says, his voice soft. "I understand that this mission has been particularly difficult for the two of you."

You glance at Wolffe, and the look in his eyes is enough to make your breath catch. The raw hunger, the naked need, is enough to make your knees buckle. He doesn't look away, and his gaze is intense, searing.

"Yes," he rasps. "It has."

"Then perhaps we should call it a night," Plo says. "The both of you have earned a rest."

"I—" Wolffe clears his throat, tearing his eyes away from you. "Sir, with all due respect, I'm fine. I don't need a break."

"Commander," Plo says, his voice gentle but firm, "I insist.”

Wolffe's nostrils flare, but he doesn't argue.

"Sir," he grunts.

Plo Koon gives a dismissive wave, and the others shuffle out, their chatter filling the air. Wolffe remains at the front, his hands still clasped behind his back. His posture is rigid, his shoulders tense. The only movement is the subtle clenching and unclenching of his fists.

He's waiting.

You watch him, trying to hide your own nervousness.

"You've done good work, Commander," Plo says. "Both of you."

"Thank you, General."

"I'll leave you to your evening."

He turns, walking toward the exit, and you can't help but stare after him. There's a sense of finality in his words, and you feel a stab of guilt. Plo has been a father to you, a mentor, and a friend. And the idea of deceiving him, of sneaking around behind his back, is something you've wrestled with for months.

The truth is, though, that there's no other choice. Not really.

It's a cruel game, and the rules are set.

The door slides shut behind him, leaving the two of you alone, and you can't help but hold your breath. Wolffe doesn't move, and the room is filled with silence, the tension between the two of you thickening. You can feel his gaze on you, his stare burning, and you swallow hard.

"Sir, a word," he says to you, loud enough for anyone who's still lingering to hear. "I'd like your opinion on the reports."

"Of course, Commander," you reply, swallowing hard, and Wolffe waits until the room is completely clear before turning his gaze on you, his eye burning.

"You," he growls.

"Me?"

"Are you trying to kill me?"

It takes you a moment to realize what he's referring to, and when you do, a flush spreads across your cheeks. You bite your lip, trying not to grin.

"I don't know what you mean," you say innocently.

"All fucking day," he mutters, stalking toward you. The sound of his footsteps echo, the click of his boots against the floor loud in the otherwise silent room. His stride is steady, his pace even, and the tension between the two of you builds with every step he takes.

Wolffe stands in front of you, his body towering over yours, and the proximity, the way he's looking at you, is enough to make the blood rush in your ears. He places a hand on the console, leaning towards you, and his eyes are dark, his pupils blown.

"You've been watching me," you whisper, and his eye darkens.

"Do you blame me?" he murmurs. "You're a sight, jet'ika. Standing there, pretending like nothing's going on. Fuck, knowing that you’re walking around filled with my cum has been driving me crazy.”

His hand moves, the tips of his fingers brushing against your cheek, and the touch sends a shiver down your spine.

"Did you like it, cyare?" he asks, his voice low. "The idea of me watching you all day, knowing what we did? How much I wanted to fuck you?"

You let out a shaky breath, your body aching for his touch.

"Yes," you whisper.

"Maker," he breathes. "What you do to me."

His hand moves, tracing the line of your jaw, and his gaze is fierce, possessive. You can feel the weight of his attention, the heat of his skin. His hand comes to rest under your chin, his thumb brushing against your bottom lip.

“It’s taking all my self control not to bend you over the table and fuck you right here, right now," he says.

The words send a jolt through you, and you bite your lip, trying not to moan. You've been aching for him all day, the memory of this morning leaving you wanting. You want to touch him, feel his skin against yours, and the hunger in his eyes, the need in his voice, is enough to make you lose any remaining shred of self control.

"You're not the only one," you whisper.

He lets out a rough sound, his other hand moving to grip your hip.

"Is that so, jet'ika?" he murmurs. His lips brush against the shell of your ear, and you can feel his hot breath, his stubble scraping against your skin. You whine, arching into his touch, and he huffs a laugh, the sound making your toes curl.

"I can't wait to get you alone," he says.

"You won't have to."

His hands tighten, his fingers digging into the flesh of your hips, and he pulls you close. The press of his armor against your body is sharp, the cool plastoid making you shiver. He leans down, and his lips brushing against the hollow of your throat.

"We should stop," he murmurs, his breath fanning across your skin. "I should walk away."

"Probably," you agree, even as your fingers trail along the curve of his cheek.

"I don't think I can."

"Neither can I."

His teeth scrape against your neck, his stubble scratching the sensitive flesh, and you can't help but tilt your head back, exposing more of yourself to him.

"Kriff," he mutters. "I've been thinking about this all day."

You sigh and close your eyes. "Me too."

He lets out a sound that's half growl, half sigh, and his lips move along the column of your throat. His fingers trace circles on your waist, the touch making you tremble. He's close, his body pressing against yours, and the feel of him, the scent of him, is almost too much.

You've waited all day for this, the promise of being with him, touching him, the only thing keeping you from falling apart. And now that the moment is here, it's hard to breathe, hard to think. Harder still, to think about the consequences of this.

But you can't bring yourself to care. Not with his hands on you, his mouth on you.

You need this, and he needs you.

It's the only thought in your mind.

Wolffe presses a kiss to your pulse point, the sensation sending a spark of electricity through you, and his hands are roaming, tracing the curve of your waist. One wanders higher, skimming your side until it cups your breast. His thumb brushes over the stiff peak, and the friction makes your toes curl, a jolt of pleasure shooting down your spine.

"Wolffe..."

"Yeah?"

"We need to leave."

"Right," he murmurs. He pulls back, his hands gripping your waist. His gaze is heavy, his iris dark, and his pupils are blown wide, his chest rising and falling with each breath.

"Right," he repeats, and you can't help but smirk at the reluctance in his tone. The heat in his gaze softens, his expression shifting into something that looks a lot like adoration.

"Fuck, I love you."

You bite your lip, trying not to grin like an idiot.

"I love you, too," you tell him.

He huffs a laugh, his hand coming up to cup the side of your face, and he leans in, his lips brushing against yours. The kiss is soft, gentle, but there's a hint of urgency, a tension, to the way he's holding you.

"Come on," he murmurs. "Let's get out of here."

You nod, and he lets go, his hands dropping away from you. The sudden loss of him is painful, and you have to force yourself not to grab him and kiss him again. Instead, you step away, moving toward the exit, and he follows, his pace slow.

As you approach the door, his fingers brush against the small of your back. The touch is light, the barest hint of contact, but it's a promise. A reminder.

A reassurance.

"Come on," he whispers, his breath ghosting across your ear. "I have plans for you."

The promise makes your cheeks flush, a thrill of anticipation running through you. Wolffe was not a man who did things by halves, and when he set his mind to something, he was relentless. You've seen that same dedication, that single-minded focus, in battle, and the idea of it being turned on you is almost too much.

"Oh?"

Wolffe grins, and the sight is almost predatory.

"Oh yes," he murmurs. "So hurry up. Unless you want me to take you here."

You let out a shaky breath, a rush of arousal making your core throb. The hand on your back urges you forward, guiding you until the door slides open. As soon as you step into the hall, his touch retreats, and he clasps his hands behind his back, the picture of professionalism.

But the look in his eyes is anything but.

"After you, General," he says.

Despite yourself, you can't help but smirk. "As you wish, Commander."

He falls into step beside you, the sound of his boots loud in the empty corridor, and the two of you make your way toward the turbolift. The silence is heavy, the air charged with anticipation. Every part of your body is acutely aware of him, the heat of his gaze, the sound of his breathing.

"So," he says, his voice casual. "How have you been enjoying your time back with the 104th?"

You frown and glance at him over your shoulder. His expression is smooth, the line of his mouth even, but his eyes are burning.

"What do you mean?"

"Just making conversation."

You study him for a moment longer, and then shrug, turning back to the hallway.

"It’s been fine," you reply, unable to keep the confusion out of your voice.

"Fine, huh? No problems? No difficulties adjusting?"

You hesitate, your brow furrowing before you realize what he's doing. You give a friendly nod to a group of troopers walking past, and they greet you in return, oblivious to the tension between the two of you.

"No, Commander," you say evenly. "Nothing I can't handle."

"That's good to hear," Wolffe replies. "We're all happy to have you back."

"It's nice to be back."

"I'm glad."

The two of you enter the turbolift, the doors sliding shut behind you, and Wolffe turns to you, the look in his eyes sending a thrill down your spine.

"I think we should talk about these 'difficulties adjusting,'" he says, and his tone is almost teasing. "Maybe come up with some solutions."

"Maybe."

The lift begins to descend, the floor numbers flashing above the doors, and the air crackles with anticipation. You're acutely aware of his proximity, his body so close to yours, and it takes all your self-control not to touch him. Not to run your fingers over the ridges of his armor, the smooth plates glinting in the dim light.

Not to kiss him.

He glances at you, his eye burning, and he reaches out, his fingers brushing against the curve of your shoulder. It's a simple touch, barely a caress, but the gesture is deliberate. He's making a point, and you can't help but smile, your chest aching with fondness.

"You seem tense, General," he says, and there's a hint of amusement in his tone. "Is everything alright?"

"You're insufferable," you murmur.

"I'm not the one who's been distracting me all day," he retorts, his voice low.

You can't help but roll your eyes. "You started it."

"Did I?"

"Yes."

"And how do you figure that?"

"You know very well what you did this morning," you hiss, and you can't keep the smile off your face. "Don't think I've forgotten."

"Remind me," he murmurs. He steps closer, and his hand drifts lower, his fingers skimming along your arm.

"Wolffe—"

"Please," he whispers. "Remind me."

You can't stop yourself. You reach up, your fingers cupping the side of his face, and the gesture is tender, affectionate. You brush a lock of his hair behind his ear, and he leans into the touch, his eyelids fluttering closed.

"You were very naughty," you murmur, and the word, so unlike you, makes him smirk. You can't help but grin in return.

"Is that right?" he whispers.

"Very," you continue. "Teasing me like that. Filling me up. Making me wait."

He lets out a low groan, his eyes opening.

"It's been torture, Wolffe. Thinking about you. Thinking about this."

His hand comes up, his fingers curling around your wrist, and he presses a kiss to the palm of your hand. His breath is warm, his lips soft. He doesn't break eye contact, his gaze fixed on yours, and you can't help but lean into him, your body pressed against his armor.

"It's been hard for me too," Wolffe whispers.

The admission is almost painful, and you bite your lip, trying to fight the swell of emotion in your chest. The two of you have been sneaking around for months now, finding stolen moments here and there. You've made the most of it, but the fact is that this is dangerous, the risk of being caught too high.

"I hate this," you say. "Having to hide."

"Me too," he says. His expression is raw, vulnerable. "But it's worth it. Being with you. Seeing you."

You blink back tears, and he cups the side of your face, his thumb brushing against the curve of your jaw. He presses your palm against his lips again, and his gaze is fierce, unwavering.

"Worth every moment," he whispers. "Even if it kills me."

"I know," you reply. "I know."

The lift slows, the doors sliding open, and the spell between the two of you is broken. Wolffe steps back, his expression neutral, and he gestures for you to step out.

"After you, General," he says, polite and detached.

"Thank you, Commander," you murmur. Your hands fist at your sides, your body aching for his.

Wolffe follows you, the two of you stepping into the empty hallway. It's late, the corridors abandoned, and the silence is almost deafening. The only sound is the hum of the ship's engines and the pounding of your heart. You walk slowly, deliberately, and the tension between the two of you builds, the ache in your core growing stronger.

"Your quarters or mine?" he asks.

"Yours," you reply.

"Why?"

"Because they're closer."

Wolffe lets out a rough laugh, the sound making your heart skip a beat, and he falls in step beside you. His arm brushes against yours, the contact sending a jolt through you, and he looks down, the corners of his mouth curving into a smirk.

"So eager," he murmurs.

"You're one to talk," you reply.

"Fair point."

He grins, his eyes twinkling, and the sight is almost too much. He's breathtaking, his expression bright and playful. It's rare to see him so open, so free, and the realization that you're the only one who gets to see him like this is humbling.

You smile back, the warmth in your chest spreading, and he bumps your arm, his gaze fixed on yours.

"It's nice, though," he says softly.

"What is?"

"This," he replies. "Being with you."

You can't help but bite your lip.

"It is," you agree.

"Even if we're not... able to..." He trails off, and the look on his face is almost bashful. It's adorable, and it makes your chest ache. You reach out, placing a hand on his arm, and his eyes drift to the spot, a sigh escaping him.

"I'm happy," he murmurs.

"Yeah," you whisper. "Me too."

He huffs a laugh and gives you a sheepish grin.

"Sorry," he says. "This isn't exactly how I planned to start the evening."

"I don't mind," you say.

"I know," he replies. "But we have time for all that later."

"What did you have in mind?"

"Wouldn't you like to know," he murmurs, and the promise in his tone sends a shiver down your spine. You bite back a smile, trying not to squirm, and he gives you a mischievous look in return. He's teasing you, and you can't help but feel a stab of affection.

There was a time, not so long ago, that Wolffe had been wary of you, reluctant to trust you. But now? Now, there was a level of familiarity between the two of you that you had never experienced with another person. An ease, a comfort. And while you knew the risks, the thought of walking away, of ending this, was unbearable.

Whatever it was that was happening between the two of you... it was real. It was important. And it was worth the risk.

You turn to him and smirk.

"What are you going to do to me?" you ask. "Gonna tie me up?"

Wolffe groans. "You'd like that."

"I would," you agree, unabashed.

"Not tonight," he murmurs. "Tonight is about you."

"Really?"

"Mmhmm," he says, and the low rumble of his voice makes your toes curl. He looks down, his gaze darkening, and he smirks. “To make up for this morning."

You try not to groan. Wolffe's dedication to your pleasure was both a blessing and a curse. While the man was nothing if not determined, his focus was intense. And when he set his mind to something... well. You could hardly complain.

But it was difficult to accept his attention without offering anything in return. It was hard not to want to give as good as you got, and even harder to relinquish control. But when it came to Wolffe, the urge to surrender, to submit, was overpowering. He made it easy. Made it tempting. Made it feel right.

You let out a shaky breath, trying not to tremble. "I don't know what I'm going to do with you."

"You're going to let me take care of you."

The words make your stomach twist. It's hard to believe that a man as powerful and intimidating as Wolffe is capable of such gentleness. That he can be so soft and tender. You don't deserve it, and yet, he seems content to give it.

"If you say so," you murmur.

"I do."

His tone is firm, almost stern, and the sound makes your heart skip a beat. He glances at you, and the look in his eye is tender, his expression filled with warmth.

Wolffe stops in front of his door, and you stand a distance back, your hands tucked in your robes. He places his hand on the scanner, and the door slides open, revealing his darkened room.

The two of you stare at each other for a long moment.

Then he steps aside, gesturing for you to enter.

"After you," he says, his voice a low rumble. You look around the empty hallway before stepping inside, and the door slides shut behind you, the room darkening.

There's a faint click, and then the light flares, illuminating the space.

The sight makes your breath catch.

The sheets are rumpled, the same as you left them this morning, but there's a vase of flowers on the nightstand, the petals a vivid red. Next to it is a bottle of wine, and two glasses sit beside it. There are candles lit around the room, their flames dancing, and the smell of spice and clove fills the air.

He's been busy.

He's been planning.

The thought of Wolffe standing here, arranging flowers, lighting candles, setting everything up for you, makes your heart ache. The gesture is so unexpected, so sweet, that you feel the breath leave your lungs. You don't deserve him.

He moves around the room, extinguishing the lights until only the candles remain, casting everything in a warm glow. His movements are precise, careful, and the look on his face is almost nervous.

"You did all this?" you whisper.

"Well," he says, his tone hesitant. "It's not much. But... yes."

"What would you have done if I said I wanted to go back to my quarters?" you ask, your voice hoarse.

He steps closer, his body looming over yours.

"I would've convinced you," he murmurs, his breath fanning across the side of your face. "I can be very persuasive."

You glance up at him and are startled to find his gaze already on you. His eyes are dark, his pupil blown wide. His mouth is set in a firm line, and there's a flush spreading across his cheeks. Your lips part, your throat suddenly dry, and you swallow hard.

He smiles, and it's a small, hesitant thing. "Too much?"

"No," you whisper, shaking your head. "Not at all."

He lets out a low sound that might be relief and reaches out, his hands coming to rest on your hips. His grip is light, and the heat of his skin seeps through the fabric of your robes, warming your flesh. You can't help but sway closer, leaning into his touch.

"So," he starts. "Would you like a drink? Or should we get started?"

Your eyebrows shoot up. "Started?"

"We have a lot to cover," Wolffe says with a wicked grin. "A lot of lost time to make up for."

Your eyes widen, and a shiver runs down your spine.

"How long were you planning this?" you ask.

He shrugs, his gaze flickering across your face.

"A while," he says, his voice a low rumble. "Would have done it last night, but someone was feeling feisty."

You can't help but grin, remembering how you had teased him. How you had teased each other. The way his mouth had felt against yours, his hands gripping your hips. How you had ridden him, his body trembling beneath you. The look in his eye as he'd watched you.

"Sorry," you murmur. "But the view was incredible."

"It's always a show with you," he murmurs, his smile wry.

"Oh?"

"Yeah," he says. "Every time you walk into a room."

You blush, and he chuckles, the sound low and throaty.

"Don't deny it," he says. "I've seen the way you move. The way you hold yourself. Like you know people are watching. Like you're aware of every eye on you."

You swallow hard, your cheeks hot. He's not wrong. There had been a time when you'd enjoyed the attention. But that was before. Before the war. Before your world had changed. Before Wolffe. Now, his gaze was the only one you craved. His opinion the only one that mattered. And the idea of disappointing him, of letting him down, was unbearable.

"You do that," he murmurs. "Get people looking at you."

"You're the only one I care about," you whisper. "I've always had eyes for you."

Wolffe blinks, startled, and a slow smile spreads across his face. The sight is devastating, the softness of his expression making your chest ache. You can't help but lean into him, drawn to him like a magnet.

The way he looks at you... It's the same way he's always looked at you. Fierce and gentle. Aching and longing. Hungry and hesitant. You've never met anyone who can convey so much emotion with a single look. And you've never felt as seen as when he looks at you. You've never felt as loved as when he holds you.

Wolffe's hands slide along the curve of your waist, and he pulls you against him, the press of his armor against your chest making you shiver. He leans in, his nose brushing against yours, and you tilt your head back, trying to capture his lips. But he avoids the contact, his mouth hovering just out of reach.

You huff a laugh. "Kiss me already."

He hums and brushes his lips against yours. It's barely a kiss, the touch a featherlight tease. But it's still electric, the contact making your skin tingle. He does it again, the pressure lingering, and your eyes flutter closed, a soft moan escaping you.

The two of you trade soft kisses, and it's torturous, the pace so slow and gentle. It's almost maddening, and your core throbs, the ache becoming more persistent.

He breaks the kiss and pulls back, his gaze burning. You can't help but reach up and cup the side of his face, your fingers brushing against his cheek. The skin is smooth, and you trail a finger down the line of his scar, the raised tissue warm.

"What is it?" you ask.

"I can't decide where I want to start," he says, his voice low. "And how much I can fit in."

"You have all night," you murmur, trying not to smile.

He raises an eyebrow. "Is that a challenge, General?"

You bite your lip. "Maybe."

"Mm," he hums. "Well, we'll see how you feel after I've had my way with you."

"Promises, promises," you say, a smirk curving your mouth. You gasp as his hands tighten on your waist, the touch making your skin burn. He's not hurting you, not even close, but the pressure is a reminder of his strength, the raw power he has over you.

"Do I ever disappoint you?" he asks, his voice soft.

"Never," you whisper.

His mouth curves into a smile.

"Good," he murmurs. He dips his head, his lips brushing against the curve of your ear, and his breath is warm, his stubble scraping against your skin. "Take your robe off."

You nod and fumble with the clasp, your hands clumsy. He waits patiently as you tug the garment off and toss it to the side. As soon as the fabric falls to the ground, his hands move to the collar of your tunic, and he begins to undo the ties, his fingers working slowly.

"You have no idea how much I want you," he whispers. "No idea how badly I need you."

You shiver, a moan escaping you, and his hands slide down, tugging the shirt free from the waistband of your trousers. He pulls it over your head and tosses it aside. It lands in a heap next to the discarded robe, and your boots quickly follow

He leans down and presses a kiss to your bare shoulder as his hands find the clasp of your bra. He unhooks it with ease and lets it fall to the floor before straightening up and pulling you flush against him. His mouth finds yours, and his lips are soft, the kiss gentle.

He breaks the contact, and his gaze is burning.

"Take the rest off," he says, and his tone is soft, but the command is clear.

You reach down and push your pants off along with your underwear, and his hands move, gripping your hips. He lifts you effortlessly and sets you down on the edge of the bed, the mattress dipping under your weight. You shift, the sheets cool against your skin, and he kneels down, his hands trailing along the length of your leg.

His fingers brush against the inside of your ankle and begin to trail upwards. The touch is light, almost ticklish, and his mouth follows, his lips leaving a burning trail along the inside of your calf. He reaches the sensitive flesh behind your knee and presses a kiss to the spot before continuing upwards.

"Wolffe..."

His lips find the inside of your thigh and continue upwards. His breath is warm, and his stubble scratches the delicate skin, making you gasp. It's agonizingly slow, the pace unhurried, and your toes curl, your muscles clenching. He reaches the crease of your hip, and his teeth scrape against the sensitive skin.

"Wolffe..."

He chuckles and continues higher, his mouth moving toward your center. His lips brush against your folds, and you shiver, the sensation making you tremble. He pauses and looks up at you, his gaze burning.

"I've been thinking about doing this all day," he murmurs. "My mouth on you."

You can't help but squirm, his words sending a thrill down your spine. He presses a kiss to the hollow of your hip, and then, without warning, his mouth is on you, his tongue tracing along the length of your slit. You let out a ragged gasp and fall back onto your elbows, the contact sending a jolt of electricity through you.

"Oh," you whimper, your voice shaking. "Oh fuck."

His mouth is relentless, and the pleasure is immediate and intense. The sensations are almost too much, and you can't stop the moan that escapes you. You're wet, embarrassingly so, Wolffe's release still leaking from your core.

The thought makes you blush, but Wolffe doesn't seem to mind. His hands slide along the length of your thighs, and his thumbs part the swollen flesh of your folds. He dips his head lower and licks a long stripe up your slit before sucking on your clit. The pressure is unrelenting, and you writhe under his attention, your legs trembling.

"Fuck," you hiss, trying to keep still. "Fuck."

His mouth is everywhere, his tongue licking and teasing and tasting. It's too much, the pleasure building, and you can't help but arch your back, your eyes squeezing shut. Your breath comes in short gasps as he laps at your folds, his hands gripping your thighs. You can't help but thrust upward, grinding against his mouth.

"That's it," he whispers. "Good girl."

The praise sends a shiver down your spine, and the orgasm hits you like a bolt of lightning. Your eyes fly open, and the room blurs, everything fading away except for the sensation of his mouth on you. Your body tenses, your muscles contracting, and your head falls back, a ragged gasp escaping you.

The waves of pleasure roll over you, and it's several moments before the feeling subsides, the tension in your body finally releasing. You've barely relaxed against the sheets when Wolffe slides a finger inside of you, his movements slow and gentle. The sensation is almost painful, the friction making you hiss.

He pauses, his mouth pulling away from you, and he studies you, his brow furrowed. "Alright?"

You can't help but nod. "Yes."

His eyes dart to the scar that bisects the inside of your thigh, his gaze lingering.

"Does it hurt?" he asks softly.

"Not anymore," you reply. "Just sensitive."

"Are you sure? I don't want to—"

"Please," you whisper. "Please don't stop."

Wolffe nods and continues, his movements slow and steady. You watch as his finger moves in and out of you, the sight making your skin flush. His thumb brushes against your clit and begins to move in small circles. The contact is almost too much, and a whimper escapes you.

"Oh," you gasp, biting your lip. "Fuck, Wolffe..."

He dips his head and his tongue joins his thumb, the two of them working in tandem. His mouth is warm and soft, and the sensations are almost too much, the pleasure making your eyes roll back. He adds a second finger and his movements become faster. Harder. You can't help but buck against him, grinding into his hand.

"More," you beg. "More. Please."

He doesn't hesitate. His mouth closes around your clit, his tongue flicking over the swollen bud, and your core pulses. It's almost too much, and you writhe beneath him, trying to get away from the pleasure.

But he doesn't stop.

His fingers continue moving inside of you, his mouth relentless. He adds a third finger, the stretch almost painful. Your core clenches, the tension building, and it's a matter of moments before another orgasm crashes through you, more intense than the first.

Your back arches off the bed as your muscles tense and then go limp. Your limbs feel like lead, and you collapse back onto the mattress, gasping for air. Your vision is blurry, the room spinning. You can feel sweat beading on your forehead, and it takes a moment for your senses to return.

Wolffe's kneeling between your legs, his hand resting on the inside of your thigh. His expression is smug, his eyes twinkling, and there's a hint of mischief in his gaze.

"Want another?" he asks.

"Fuck," you groan. "You're going to kill me."

He smirks and leans forward, pressing a kiss to your stomach. "You said that last time."

"Did I?"

"And the time before that," he murmurs.

"It's a good way to go."

"Hm," he says. He kisses a line across your abdomen, and his hands wander, sliding along the curve of your waist. "I can think of a few other ways."

His mouth travels lower, his lips brushing against the hollow of your hip. You can't help but tense, a moan escaping you.

"Relax," he whispers. "I've got you."

"Please," you beg.

"Please what?"

"More."

"More of this?"

"Yes," you gasp.

Wolffe smirks, and his tongue licks a long line up the inside of your thigh. His stubble is rough against your sensitive flesh, and you can't help but squirm, trying to get away. But his hands grip your legs, his hold firm, and he continues, his mouth traveling up the inside of your thigh.

The contact is teasing, his movements slow and deliberate, and his tongue is hot and wet against your skin. You can't help but buck your hips, grinding against his mouth. He groans, and the sound makes your eyes roll back.

"Don't stop," you beg.

"No?"

"Please."

"Beg me," he murmurs, and he nips at the inside of your thigh, the sharp pain making you gasp.

"Please," you gasp. "Don't stop. I need you. Please."

He chuckles, his breath fanning across your slick folds.

"Good girl," he whispers.

You shudder at the praise, a shiver running down your spine. His mouth returns to your center, and his tongue traces along your folds, lapping at the sensitive flesh. The contact is electric, and you writhe, your head falling back.

"Wolffe," you moan, trying to pull away. But his grip is too tight, and his tongue continues to move, licking and teasing and tasting. It isn’t long before you're trembling, the tension in your body reaching its breaking point. Your hands fist in the sheets, and you arch off the bed, crying out as the third orgasm rocks through you.

You collapse back against the mattress, panting.

"Fuck," you hiss, trying to catch your breath. "Wolffe."

He doesn't respond, his mouth still on you. His tongue flicks over your clit, and he sucks the swollen bud between his lips, drawing another cry from you. He doesn't stop, and the pleasure builds, the sensations becoming almost unbearable.

"Wait," you gasp. "Wait, I—"

But it's too late. The fourth orgasm is even more intense than the others, and the intensity makes you see stars. Your whole body goes rigid, and you can't stop yourself from thrashing. Your back arches off the bed, and your fists twist in the sheets as your mouth clamps shut, a high-pitched whine escaping you.

It feels like an eternity before the pleasure finally subsides, and you slump against the mattress, trying to catch your breath. Wolffe pulls away, his mouth shining, and he presses a kiss to the inside of your thigh, his gaze never leaving yours.

"Okay?" he asks, his tone amused.

"I'm... I'm..." You swallow hard, unable to form a coherent thought. "Yeah."

"Good," he murmurs, and his voice is a low rumble. He pushes himself up and sits back on his heels. His eye is dark, his pupil blown wide, and his hands come to rest on your waist, the pressure firm.

"Up," he murmurs. "Knees."

You nod, and your limbs move slowly, the exhaustion from earlier creeping up on you. Your body is still trembling, and it takes a moment for you to settle into position, your knees digging into the mattress.

You watch as Wolffe stands, and he strips off his armor in quick succession, the movements smooth and efficient. The sight is always a surprise. You're not used to seeing him bare.

When the war first started, the clones had been reluctant to undress around you. Their uniforms were a source of comfort. Of safety. It was only later that you realized how vulnerable it made them feel. How naked they were without their armor. It was a show of trust. A sign of acceptance.

It had taken months of gentle coaxing to get Wolffe out of his armor. The fact that he had removed it for you that day in the bunker was a testament to how far the two of you had come.

And now?

Now it was a familiar sight.

You watch as he unclasps his codpiece and sets it on the shelf. He's already hard, the bulge obvious, and his cock is straining against the material of his blacks. You can't help but bite your lip, the sight making you squirm despite the exhaustion in your limbs.

"Like what you see?" he asks, a smirk curving his mouth.

"You know I do," you murmur.

"Well then," he replies. He hooks his thumbs into the waistband of his blacks and pushes the material down his hips. His cock springs free, the tip red and swollen. You can't help but lick your lips, the sight making your core clench.

"How do you want me?" you ask, the words breathles.

He lets out a rough laugh. "You'd let me do anything right now."

You swallow hard. He's not wrong. The orgasms he'd given you had left you weak and trembling. You couldn't deny him anything, and you didn’t want to.

"True," you say. "But where do you want me?"

"Right where you are."

He steps closer and grips his cock. You can't help but stare, his length impressive. Everything about him is impressive. It's almost intimidating. Almost.

The truth is, you've never felt as safe as when Wolffe's arms are wrapped around you. As cherished as when he's between your legs. As protected as when his gaze is on you.

His hand begins to move, his fist pumping his length, and you watch, transfixed. He lets out a low groan, and the sound makes you shiver, the heat in your core flaring. His thumb brushes against the tip, spreading the precum, and he grips the base, the veins along his length prominent.

"Touch yourself," he orders.

You nod and reach between your legs. Your folds are wet and swollen, and your clit is still sensitive from the attention Wolffe had given you. You press a finger against the bundle of nerves and gasp. The contact makes you shudder, and your eyes drift shut, a ragged moan escaping you.

Wolffe watches, his gaze intent. "Good girl."

"Fuck," you hiss. "Wolffe... I need..."

"What do you need?"

"You."

"Yeah?" he whispers. "Do you think you can handle it?"

It's a tease, but you know he means it. He wants to know that you're okay, that you're not pushing yourself. You've experienced Wolffe's stamina firsthand. More than once. And while it had been incredible, the man was insatiable. It's a miracle the two of you hadn't gotten caught.

"I can take it," you say. "Come here."

He nods and steps closer. His hand grips his cock again and he gives himself a few more pumps. He's flushed, his breathing ragged, and his hair is damp, a lock of it falling over his forehead.

The sight is breathtaking.

"Come on," you urge. "I'm ready."

"You sure?"

"Positive," you murmur. "Please."

He grunts and shifts forward, climbing onto the bed. His hands find your waist, and he guides you back, the pillows cushioning your head. He moves to hover over you, his forearms braced on either side of your head, and his hips settle between yours, the length of his cock pressing against your center.

The sensation is delicious, and you can't help but roll your hips, grinding against him. Wolffe groans, the sound deep and rumbling, and he presses his face into the crook of your neck, his stubble scratching the delicate skin.

"Easy," he murmurs. "Let's take it slow."

"Why?" you breathe.

"Because we have all night."

He kisses a trail along the column of your throat and then pulls back. His hands find the backs of your knees, and he lifts, hooking your legs over his elbows. He shifts forward, the head of his cock brushing against your folds, and the contact makes you hiss.

He pushes in, the stretch almost painful. The sensation is so intense that your eyes roll back, and you gasp, your nails digging into his shoulders. His movements are slow and steady, his pace agonizingly unhurried.

"Fuck," you hiss.

"Yeah," he whispers. "You're doing so well."

The praise sends a thrill through you, and you can't help but moan. Wolffe’s lips quirk upward, the corners of his mouth curving into a grin, and he dips his head, kissing a trail along your collarbone. His tongue traces the curve of your shoulder before moving higher, his mouth finding the spot below your ear.

He sucks on the sensitive flesh, and the contact makes your breath catch. He continues, his teeth grazing your pulse point, and the pressure is firm, but not painful. He wouldn’t leave a mark. Not in a visible spot. That was one of the unspoken rules.

You were both careful not to leave any evidence behind after the first time. No bruise, bites, or scratches. Nothing that could raise questions. Nothing that could cause a scandal.

But the thought of being marked by him, of him leaving some sign of possession, makes your heart pound. It’s a possessiveness you reciprocate. You can’t help it. When it comes to Wolffe, you’re hopelessly drawn to him.

His mouth moves lower, his teeth scraping against the swell of your breast. He sucks on the tender flesh, and the feeling is intense, the ache making you writhe. He repeats the motion, the suction firm, and the sting makes your toes curl.

He releases your skin, and his eye flickers upwards, the color a dark grey.

"I should stop," he murmurs. "Shouldn't leave any marks."

You can't help but whine. "Please..."

"It's not a good idea."

"Just one."

He frowns, his expression conflicted. But he doesn't say no.

"Where?"

You consider the question for a moment, then your hand finds the back of his head, your fingers tangling in his hair. You guide him lower, toward the valley between your breasts. He obliges, his mouth moving over the spot, and the contact makes you shiver.

"Here," you murmur. "Please."

He pauses, and then he dips his head and bites. The feeling is sharp, the pain making your muscles tense. His tongue flicks against the skin, and then he's sucking, his mouth relentless. The pleasure is immediate, and the combination of pain and bliss makes you moan.

His mouth lingers, his tongue tracing over the mark. Then he pulls back, the look on his face almost proud.

"Good?"

You can't help but huff a laugh. "Yeah."

He leans in and presses a kiss to the spot, and you can't help but squirm, the friction making your core clench. Wolffe lets out a groan, the sound low and guttural, and his hips snap forward, his movements quickening.

The sudden change makes you gasp, the feeling almost too much. You're still sensitive, and the feeling is intense, the ache deep. You can't help but tilt your head back, your eyes squeezing shut, your chest heaving as your lungs fight for air.

"You alright?" he asks.

You nod, biting your lip. "Yes."

He kisses the hollow of your throat.

"You're taking it so well," he murmurs. "Just a little more."

"Okay."

His thrusts pick up speed, and the rhythm is steady, his pace unhurried. But the strength of his thrusts makes your eyes water, and when he moves your legs, hooking them over his shoulders the change in angle is almost unbearable.

You cry out, and your eyes fly open. The sight is devastating, and you can't look away. Wolffe's above you, his body caging yours, and his face is flushed, his mouth open, his brow furrowed.

The expression is one you've seen before.

The look in his eye is intense. Fierce. Possessive. It's a side of him that only you get to see, a vulnerability that only you get to witness. You can't help but wrap your arms around him, your hands roaming his back, his shoulders, his sides. You touch him everywhere, the feeling almost desperate.

Wolffe leans down, pressing your thighs further into your chest, and his mouth finds yours in a messy kiss, his tongue tracing over your bottom lip. His movements are sloppy, his focus on his thrusts, and the lack of coordination makes him seem vulnerable.

It's a side of him that he would never show anyone else. Only you.

You break the kiss, gasping for air, and your hands find his face, your thumbs tracing along the scarred ridge of his brow. He turns his head, kissing the palm of your hand, and then his lips find the inside of your wrist, his mouth moving along the line of your pulse.

"Wolffe," you whisper, his name a plea.

"I've got you," he says. He picks up the pace, his thrusts becoming faster, and his hand snakes between your legs, his fingers finding the swollen bud of your clit. His touch is electric, and you let out a ragged gasp, your nails digging into his skin.

"So close," you breathe.

He nods, his breath coming in short gasps. "Come on. Let go."

You can't help but obey. You arch off the bed, your head falling back as the final orgasm rocks through you. It's the most intense of the night, the waves crashing over you and pulling you under. It feels like an eternity before the sensations subside, and when they do, you collapse back onto the mattress, the exhaustion threatening to overwhelm you.

You're dimly aware of the fact that Wolffe is still moving, his thrusts becoming frantic. It's a matter of moments before he follows you, and his whole body goes rigid, the muscles of his abdomen tensing. He lets out a low moan, the sound deep and rumbling before the warmth of his release fills you. He keeps moving, drawing the pleasure out until the last of his release has been spent, and it's a few moments before he finally stills.

Wolffe lets out a long exhale and leans forward, his weight settling on top of you. He buries his face in the crook of your neck, his breath hot against your skin. You wrap your arms around him, and your hands find the nape of his neck, your fingers threading through his hair.

The two of you lie there for a while, neither one of you speaking. Your limbs are heavy, the ache in your core pulsing. It's a struggle to keep your eyes open, and you can't help but sigh, the exhaustion catching up with you.

Eventually, Wolffe shifts, his head turning to press a kiss to the underside of your jaw.

"I'll be right back," he murmurs.

You nod, and he pushes himself up, his body moving away from yours. You miss the contact immediately, the warmth of his skin, the smell of him, and you can't help but reach for him.

"Wolffe..."

He chuckles. "I'll be back."

He slides off the bed and stands, the mattress shifting. His body is silhouetted by the light from the candles, and he moves across the room, disappearing into the refresher. He returns a few minutes later with a damp cloth.

"Up," he murmurs, and his hands find the back of your knees, the touch firm. You let him move you, the cloth warm as he wipes away the remnants of the two of you. When he's done, he tosses the cloth aside and moves around the room, extinguishing the candles and grabbing a clean shirt from the shelf.

You sit up, wincing at the twinge in your muscles. Wolffe turns, holding the shirt in his hands.

"Here," he says.

You accept the garment and slip it over your head. The fabric is worn, the collar loose, and the sleeves hang over your hands. It's comfortable, and the scent of him surrounds you, making your heart clench.

"Better?" he asks, his mouth curved into a smirk.

"Much," you reply as a yawn escapes you.

He reaches for the sheets, pulling them up.

"Get in," he says, and you slip under the covers. He does the same, the mattress dipping under his weight. Wolffe rolls onto his side and pulls you close, his arm draped over your waist. The two of you trade soft kisses, and he brushes the hair out of your face, tucking it behind your ear.

"Sleep," he whispers.

"Don't want to," you murmur. "Not yet."

He pulls your head to rest on his shoulder, his fingers threading through your hair.

"You need to rest."

You let out a soft sigh and bury your face in the crook of his neck, his pulse beating beneath the thin skin. "Don't like the dreams."

Wolffe stiffens, his body tensing, and he's quiet for a long moment. The silence is deafening, and you wonder if you've said too much. You hadn't meant to. Not tonight.

"I don't like them either," he says, his voice hoarse.

You know what they are, how vivid and real they can be. You'd heard him wake more than once, watched him gasp for air, his eyes wide, his expression terrified. And he'd comforted you more than once when the strange visions found you in your sleep, the two of you laying in the dark, clinging to each other, afraid to let go.

You'd tried not to think about what it might mean. How it had gotten to this point. Whether the nightmares would ever end.

If you could survive the war.

"Sorry," you mumble, your voice barely audible, the words muffled against his skin.

He presses a kiss to the crown of your head. "You have nothing to be sorry for."

"Still."

"No," he says firmly. There’s a beat, and then he sighs, the sound weary. "I hate watching you struggle. Hate not being able to do anything."

"You are doing something,” you whisper. You pull back, propping yourself up on your elbow, and the two of you look at each other. He reaches up, his fingers brushing against your cheek.

"Doesn't feel like it," he murmurs. "Sometimes I worry..."

He trails off, and the look in his eye makes your heart clench. You can't help but lean down and press a soft kiss to his lips. He reciprocates, his hand moving to cup the back of your head, and you kiss him again. And again.

"You have no idea how important this is," he says as the two of you break apart.

"What is?"

"Being here," he replies. "Holding you."

Your throat tightens. "Wolffe..."

He gives you a small smile, his thumb brushing against your cheek. "I've always been good at taking orders. Even before I met you. Before the war."

"Is that right?"

He hums, his gaze focused on his thumb.

"It's what I'm trained to do," he says. "It's what I was bred for. It's why they created us."

"I don't think they planned for this," you murmur, and it's an effort to keep the bitterness out of your voice.

He frowns. "What?"

You reach up, your fingers trailing along his temple, his scars soft. The sight of him in his armor had been intimidating at first. Terrifying, even. The way he held himself, his expression hard, his jaw set, his demeanor unreadable. But now?

Now, the thought of him putting it on was heartbreaking.

"For you to want more,” you whisper.

He's quiet for a long moment, and then he leans in, pressing his lips against yours. The kiss is gentle, and he cups the back of your head, his fingers tangling in your hair. You return the pressure, trying to convey what you're feeling. What you've always felt.

Wolffe's the most incredible man you've ever met. He's strong and brave and kind. Loyal and fierce and protective. And you would give anything to give him the life he deserves. The life he should have.

When he pulls back, the look in his eye is fierce.

"This is the only order I've ever disobeyed," he murmurs. "The only thing I've ever wanted to break the rules for. To rebel. To choose for myself."

And he doesn't have to elaborate.

Your heart skips a beat, the words making your chest ache. The first night you'd spent together had changed everything. The two of you had known the risk, you'd known what would happen if you got caught. But neither of you had cared. You'd been helpless to resist, the tension finally becoming too much.

It had been an act of defiance.

A way to rebel against the orders you'd both been given and the path your lives had taken.

You'd done it again and again. The two of you had fallen into bed more times than you could count, and every encounter had been the same. And now, with the war coming to a close, with the fighting reaching a fever pitch, the two of you were running out of time.

"Wolffe..."

"And I'd do it again," he whispers. "In a heartbeat. And I'm not sorry."

The words make you shiver. They're so similar to what he'd said when the two of you had first laid together. When the two of you had surrendered to the connection between you, unable to resist the pull.

You can feel tears start to prick your eyes, and it’s a struggle not to let them fall.

"Me neither," you whisper, your voice thick.

He reaches up and brushes the stray tear that had escaped away, his thumb leaving a trail of warmth against your skin. You swallow hard, and he pulls you closer, his hand moving to the back of your head.

"You need to sleep," he murmurs. "We're leaving early tomorrow."

You nod, and the two of you adjust, shifting into a more comfortable position. He curls around you, his body solid and warm, and his arm wraps around your waist, his palm flat against your stomach. The slow, steady rhythm of his breathing begins to lull you, and your eyelids grow heavy, your vision blurring.

"Don't let go," you whisper.

He tugs you closer, his face pressed against the back of your neck.

"Never."

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#wolffe x reader #tcw wolffe #commander wolffe #commander wolffe x reader #the clone wars #clone trooper wolffe #clone x reader #roy writes #i love them but they also make me so sad #i had a request for a post order 66 with them and i might write more #however not entirely confident they have a happy ending...

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anundyingfidelity · 3 days ago

Text

HAPPY MISTAKE — Logan Howlett

Summary: Not ever, through all the years of your life, you found someone like Logan. Since he arrived at the school, something brought you together like a magnet. Sadly, not everything came out as you wished it would be. Time is not gentle with mutants, and you try so hard to show him your unconditional love before everything is over, but can you finally accept your feelings for each other? Or yours and Logan's tumultuous relationship through the years.

(PART ONE → PART TWO) | GEN MASTERLIST!

Pairing: Logan x mutant!female!reader.

Word count: 9.6k.

Warnings: slow burn, breaking up(?)/making up, heavy angst, hurt/comfort, eventual smut and unprotected everything, language, character death, time travel, Logan hurting reader unintentionally, wounds and blood. Logan being a whore for both Jean Grey and the reader. Reader has slow aging as Logan and looks around mid 30s in my head. Anthropology teacher!reader. Reader can manipulate light (just like Starlight from The Boys). This takes place between different movies from the franchise, from X-Men 1 to DoFP, so spoilers of the movies ahead.

Notes: Long time no write. Life is horrible but somehow I managed to get this in like two months. I love Logan so fucking much now you don't have an idea. This was also written with Happy Mistake by Lady Gaga in mind. If you'd like to be tagged in the second part let me know or let me know your thoughts on this, it's very much appreciated! I suffered a lot writing it .

𝒊𝒇 𝒊 𝒄𝒐𝒖𝒍𝒅 𝒇𝒊𝒙 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒓𝒐𝒌𝒆𝒏 𝒑𝒊𝒆𝒄𝒆𝒔, 𝒕𝒉𝒆𝒏 𝒊'𝒅 𝒉𝒂𝒗𝒆 𝒂 𝒉𝒂𝒑𝒑𝒚 𝒎𝒊𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒌𝒆.

—

2000

“Need any help?”

Logan stopped on his tracks from wandering around the cozy, yet strange place he woke up in. Turning on his feet, he saw your figure standing in the middle of the hallway. He said nothing, but you approached him as you had known him for a very long time.

“I assume you’re the new guy-”

“Where is she?” Logan abruptly interrupted once you stood inches away from him.

“Rogue? She’s fine. And you need to take a little rest.”

“I don’t need medical attention,” he said, looking around to search for a nearby exit. Before he walked away you took his arm in a soft grip.

He was, as much as you could tell, surprised by your boldness. You gave him no time to process his next movements once you talked again, your voice firm and welcoming in a way he had never felt before.

“Please, you need to meet Professor Xavier,” you said. “At least before you go. It’s totally fine if you wanna leave, I don’t recommend it though, but we can offer you a safe place here. We are just like you.”

Logan’s hardened expression relaxed for a moment, sensing no threat coming from you. All he saw in your eyes wasn’t pity, nor anger at him being kind of an asshole at first. It was just authority, the good kind where he also had something to say and decide about.

“Whatcha say, Logan?”

He was so immersed in his thoughts before you called his name, thinking it sounded beautiful falling off your lips. You gave him a half smile as he took in each detail of your face, as if he was memorizing every part of it.

It was the first time someone had been nice to him and it felt strangely good.

For some reason, it felt very good coming from you.

—

Logan just found out from the Professor’s mouth the mansion was a school for mutants. Gifted people, he called them. After learning another powerful mutant was behind him and Rogue, he had no other choice but accept the shelter. He didn’t like the other guys better, playing the teacher with a bunch of teenagers with special or cursed abilities. But besides Storm and Jean, you were the person who had welcomed him the most, even showing him the place and the room he would stay in.

One late night, you sat at the dining table together. Logan was silently drinking a beer outside school hours so the kids wouldn’t see him, and you, reading a bunch of papers from your students that you were missing. He realized how hard you worked, how you would praise your students, how you talked to them outside classes, being the one to actually convince Rogue to enroll in the school. Immediately, he knew you were really something, having much more in common than he thought. And you, living for so long, being both a mutant and a lady for sure had a hard life through time.

“What you teach again?” he suddenly asked, breaking the comfortable silence you shared.

“Anthropology,” you answered, giving him a short glance. “I took this at college a long time ago, and I’ve been alive long enough to know a thing or two,” you explained, putting away a paper after putting an A+ on it proudly. “It’s important to understand ourselves, humankind and mutants… It’s a diverse world and there are lots of cultures, languages and societies we don’t get to know, but it’s beautiful. I think I like to celebrate what makes us unique. I've had the chance to study some of them around the world since I had the time, y’know, and it’s truly amazing. It’s a shame we have to fight between us to make us heard when we could just be kind and empathetic to each other… Sorry, you didn’t ask but, y’know, anyway.”

You shook your head with a curve on your lips, going back to the next paper. Logan had taken the sparks in your eyes as you talked. He half smiled to himself once you buried yourself in your papers again, thinking you sounded just like Professor Xavier. No wonder why he took you in. Probably, if things were different for him, he would’ve found something that could light his face with so much passion just like you did.

“Been alive for almost two hundred years,” Logan said and you looked up to him. “We might have things about the past to share,” he drank from his beer. It was your turn to smile back at him.

“Yeah, well, I’ve lived both horrible but nice things. Couldn’t read or do math without being called a witch,” you chuckled to yourself, but hiding on the inside the awful experiences you had to endure. “Someday, we could go out and grab a coffee or something,” you said with a playful smile.

A light chuckle left your lips, but you and him knew it wasn’t just a joke.

He joined you with a warm smile that lit up his face before disappearing from his lips. “Of course. Count me in.”

—

The sun was shining bright and the weather was great that morning. Some of the students were in the yard playing, having some quality time, and others simply just left to go to the town. It was a good weekend before the next semester started, and it was better now knowing Magneto had been taken to prison after his failed attempt to use Rogue for his plans.

Sipping on your coffee, you saw the students outside. Laughing, running, having a good breakfast picnic. It felt heartwarming just taking this sight, wishing it would always be like this. Your mindful peace was interrupted when Logan entered the kitchen to have a coffee on his own. Visibly, you tensed just a little when he approached you and sat right in front of you at the dining table. The caffeine was not helping at all, you thought.

“Morning,” he greeted you, noticing something was off on you, but hoping it would pass. Maybe you already knew.

“Morning…” your voice came out as a whisper. “How you feeling?”

“Better. What about you?”

You gave a small nod. “Good, thanks for asking.”

A silence fell upon you. Not like the ones you used to share in lonely nights where you prepared your classes and Logan just sat down calmly because he couldn’t sleep. This time it was different. Words won’t come out of your mouth to ask what was really bothering you. You had grown up to like Logan and enjoy his company, but he had a lot of walls upon him, protecting himself of the world and people around him.

However, you understood why he did it. You both have been alive longer than anyone else. You saw people you love dearly dead, being killed because of your flaws. And you really connected to his idea of protecting people by leaving their side. It was better being away. That was until Professor Xavier recruited you. Here, you had a purpose and you helped young people to become the best versions of themselves. You wished Logan could do the same, stay and see he was more of what he thought of himself, but it wouldn’t happen. Right? He had things to sort out on his own.

“Are you leaving soon?”

When you asked the question, Logan knew you had heard something from the Professor. He gave you a nod.

“I need to reconnect with who I was,” he simply answered.

“Right… Wish you all the best there.”

Logan had grown to like you over the past few weeks you shared, exchanging experiences and lessons of life you had taken through the years. For a moment, he looked right into your eyes and smiled. He weirdly smiled, and you could swear he’d miss you too once he is away.

But that warm feeling soon faded away once Jean walked into the kitchen, saying good morning and beaming to the both of you. Logan followed her with his gaze, straightening himself on his seat as she served her own breakfast and an extra plate that you already knew was for Scott. She also began putting fruits and snacks inside a picnic basket while looking all happy and settled, and you knew why Logan had fallen in love with her. It was all over his face.

And you wondered how could he act and talk to you so kindly and sweet, and then look at Jean like that. It was a pain in your heart you tried to dissipate. Everyone knew Jean and Scott were a couple, and the fact that Logan had a not so secret crush on her really played on you. It made you feel like a fool and you had too many heartbreaks and hurted people, putting them in danger due to your mutation, to take initiative and start a relationship - or anything of the sort - again.

Scott made his way inside the kitchen, saying hi to both of you - mostly you. And took the tray with their plates as Jean grabbed the basket, but she let Scott leave the kitchen before.

“Have a good trip, Logan,” she said kindly. “I hope to see you around here soon.”

“Thank you, Jean.”

She smiled one last time before leaving you all alone, Logan following her with his eyes. Just for a second, you wished he could see you like that underneath his facade.

—

You had packed your stuff later that day, deciding a little air and a change for one night would do no wrong. Just as you were walking to the main door, Rogue was saying her goodbyes to Logan after giving him a small hug without really touching him. It was a cute sight how Rogue was able to step into his cold heart. She said goodbye to you as well before leaving the entrance.

“You’re going away too?” Logan asked, rather surprised as you both walked through the door, the sun hitting your skin as soon as you were out of the mansion. He knew your life was at the school.

“Just for the weekend,” you shrug it off.

Logan gave you a nod with a warm smile. “Then have a good trip and enjoy yourself.”

“Thanks. I hope you find what you’ve been looking for.”

“I hope so too,” Logan answered and before he went to take Scott’s bike, he looked at you hesitantly for a couple of seconds. “We should go out and grab some coffee once I’m back.”

Your lips formed a wide smile. “That sounds really nice.”

For a moment, where time felt like hours and not seconds, you stood right out the door, looking at each other. You wanted him to go first, but he was waiting for you to say something. Probably to ride the bike with him, he could leave you somewhere near your destination and feel you close - just be around you for at least five more minutes. But none of that ever happened.

Instead, you studied his face, looking at his deep eyes, and then his lips - those lips you wanted to kiss so bad before, but never had the courage to do so. You didn’t think further, and if something had taken possession over you, you leaned towards him leaving a short, sweet kiss on the corner of his lips.

“Take care,” you mumbled once you pulled away.

Not waiting for his answer, you turned back, pulling your bag to your side stronger than ever and walked the path to the front gates, feeling his gaze all over you until you left the mansion.

He felt such an idiot for not kissing you properly.

—

2003

‘I know what I want, but what do you want?’

Mystique’s words echoed through his head. Logan left the tent so long ago he didn’t know what time it was anymore and the situation kept repeating again and again in his mind. The woman had shifted between Jean, Ororo, and you. The one that icked him the most being Rogue once Mystique had taken her figure in. Storm was a good colleague, Jean was a forbidden love, Rogue was like his little sister, someone he would protect as long as he could, and you… you were a different case. When Mystique was about to kiss him wearing your figure, he finally realized he started feeling things he had prohibited himself for a very long time, and he thought he shouldn’t. He really shouldn’t.

Once or twice you shared experiences about love and partners, but he could tell it hurted you the same way as him. He couldn’t burden breaking your heart, or worse, getting you hurt because of what he was. Logan knew you had the same bad luck in the past, but it didn’t stop any of you to pull towards each other like a magnet.

‘Living for so long does things to you, Logan. I feel we become more aware of what we are.’

Those words you said to him one time remained in his head like a warning, and he took it personally.

Closing his eyes, he leaned against a hard tree trunk some feet away from the tents where the rest of the X-Men rested. He tried to find some peace alone for a few moments when the sounds of steps approaching alerted his senses. Claws out and ready to attack, he spun around the trunk only to stop in a second.

There you were, a bright light emanating from your hand to illuminate your path in the darkness of the woods.

“Logan?”

Quickly, he withdrew his claws and his body relaxed visibly. “Sorry,” he apologized, leaning against the tree one more time.

“Are you okay?” you asked, but you already knew the answer. The exhausted sigh he let out told you everything you needed. You let the soft glow of light floating between you and him, to illuminate both of you under the branches. “You wanna talk?”

He slowly shook his head, mumbling ‘no’. He became startled in the light floating like a firefly, letting his own issues wash away with your sole company. Ironically, everything that was troubling him was you. Softly, you caressed his arm, taking him out of his own thoughts. Your touch didn’t help his poor mind either.

Looking worried about the next mission in Lake Alkali, you feared for him and your team. And your lack of sleep was showing it. But just like Logan, the growing feelings were troubling your head. You had seen him talking with Jean earlier when you landed in the forest - talking too close to your liking once he pulled her for a kiss. But what could you do? Logan was still after Jean even when she had already declined him countless of times, and it didn’t really hurt you. It just felt strange inside. Why would he do that while still being nice to you, quitting being a dick when he wanted because he knew you’d snap back at him. And to be honest, Logan looked as if he liked that about you. But he won’t admit it out loud, and of course, you wouldn’t ask. Men were so damn complicated.

“Well, I only expect things to not get worse…” you finally said in a soft whisper since he wasn’t talking and you stopped your head going further on the matter. And you knew he wouldn’t talk soon either. “And you’re brave for seeking your past.”

Logan locked his eyes with your own, under the soft light. Your tired gaze, your figure, your aura pulling him like he found a treasure in an abandoned cave… He felt so bad for falling for someone like you, who was nothing compared to the crap he was. And then, for the first time in years, he decided to follow his instinct with you.

He leaned towards your figure, his rough hand cupping your cheek gently before pulling you in for a kiss. With a soft sigh you corresponded, your arms around his neck as it turned deeper and harsher. Logan lifted you easily from the ground, your legs tangling around his waist until you felt your back against a rough surface, trapped between the trunk and his body. Soft moans and grunts mingled, your chest pressing against his own, his hips grinding against your crotch. It was obvious you wanted this. Logan desired you so painfully after that day you kissed him goodbye at the mansion, he needed your body and soul. But you had to have answers before giving into the heat of the moment.

Pulling away, you broke the kiss, your forehead resting against his own as you tried to catch your breath. Logan tried to taste you once again, but you placed two of your fingers on his swollen lips.

“Why’d you kiss her?”

He remained silent, brows furrowed and eyes blown in lust. You didn’t make any effort to pull him away. He still had you between his legs, asking a simple question he had no response for.

“We’re adults here, Logan. Just wanna know why before we go further.”

Logan started to remember. He vividly heard Jean and Mystique voicing out and asking the right question.

‘Girls flirt with the bad guy. They take the good guy home.’

‘What do you want?’

“Do you really want me?” he asked in return.

You lifted an eyebrow at his sudden question. “And do you?”

He leaned again for a kiss on your lips, and thankfully for him, you didn’t stop it. But he quickly pulled away and inhaled your sweet scent from the skin on your neck, leaving a path of soft pecks, until he nipped the shell of your ear softly. You shivered under his touch.

“I’d love to have you,” he whispered, softly caressing your cheek with his thumb.

“Come to my tent,” you mumbled. “Sleep with me. But like, seriously, sleep with me ‘cause I’m tired,” you chuckled, hoping to not kill the mood.

Logan smiled for a bit and nodded, pecking your lips one more time before helping you get on your feet on the muddy ground, hands rubbing your sides slowly.

“As long as I have you by my side it’s alright with me.”

—

Jean’s death was hard to swallow.

For weeks, students and teachers mourned her, and you felt sorry for Scott for losing his soulmate. Logan was not in the best shape either. He didn’t attend her funeral, he never had the guts to stand by her grave either, until now. You stopped right behind him and noticed him sighing, under the afternoon sunset. He was tense because of everything, but when you took his hand out of the pocket of his jacket, he held onto you. Your fingers intertwined together, feeling his life depending solely on you, like a rock he needed to support his whole weight.

The day was about to end, the sun slowly hiding, giving a beautiful painting of orange and purple in the sky. You thought it would soon become an intense thunderstorm due to Ororo’s mourn - something you had gotten used to the last few days.

“She saved us,” Logan barely mumbled, looking intensely at the grave.

You nodded, even if he could not see you. “Can’t blame her, I’d have done the same.”

Those words cause him to look back at you, wishing it’d be a lie. But inside, Logan knew you really had the guts to sacrifice yourself for others. It was something he remembered both of you talking about some time ago. And you would give everything in your hands to save the ones you love.

Quietly, Logan gave a last glance at Jean’s grave, and guided you inside the mansion. Classes barely started again due to the circumstances and a few kids could be seen around the halls. You accompanied him to the doors of his room, noticing you had been holding hands the whole time. Probably no one really cared, they were too busy trying to go through the grief of losing a loved one. Slowly, you broke the gesture, taking your hand away and Logan immediately missed the heat and comfort of your hand.

“Do you need anything?” you asked in a low voice.

Looking at you, Logan reminisced how you kissed in the woods, the need and lust for each other that couldn’t be. He did sleep in your tent that night, in the comfort of your arms, feeling the warmth of your skin. It was, probably, the first time he had a good, peaceful night of sleep in years. No one had brought that up, but he knew something was there. And he needed to act on it before it was too late.

So he brought up his hands to your face, cupping your cheeks lovingly before planting a kiss on your lips, not caring he was standing in the middle of the hallway where anyone could see what was going on. You leaned against his touch, deepening the kiss until you couldn’t catch a breath. When he pulled away, he pressed his forehead into yours, taking in the beauty of your bright eyes and swollen lips. Everything wandering his mind, making a path right into his cold heart was right in front of him.

“You.”

—

Knocking Professor Xavier's door, you walked inside as soon as his voice announced to come in. You caught your breath seeing Logan by his desk. He just gave you a quick, accomplice glimpse and left the room, closing the door behind. The exchange of glances wasn’t unnoticed by Charles.

“Here’s the report on my subject for this last semester, Professor,” you announced, leaving the folder on the wooden desk.

“Thank you. How’s Logan doing?” he asked all of a sudden, checking the door the man had crossed just seconds ago.

“Excuse me?”

“Do you believe he is comfortable helping the kids?” the old man asked again. He was seeing right through you, and you kind of hated every time he used to do that to you. Nothing could be hidden from Xavier; definitely you couldn’t hide a single thing for the man who took you in decades ago.

“Why would I know that?”

He shrugged it off. “Well, you seem very close lately.”

Close was not the best word to describe your relationship with Logan. Yet, you were sleeping on his bed just the night before. The trace of his kisses, the burn of his beard on your skin, his teeth biting softly your breasts, his rough hands all over your hips… Every touch he left on your body you could still feel it, and you wanted to think he was not just using you. During the past weeks, you were together. Not quite a relationship-thing was established properly, but it was the closest thing any of you could have as for now.

It was a mixture of grief, pain, and hope that had you both still standing. In the end, you understood what he felt. Being alone and alive for so long and then finding a place where people accepted you for who you were was a whole change, even if some years passed by. Though, the time Logan had been spending at the school was nothing but a blink of an eye compared to his past.

“What happened to our team is still affecting us,” you finally said. “I believe we are good friends, yes, we’ve been supporting each other. And he doesn’t know how to deal with the students yet most of the time, but I try to walk him through it.”

Xavier hummed, smiling at the corner of his lips as he eyed the folder you handed him. “I bet you both do.Thanks for bringing your report on time, as always, and I apologize if I am being intrusive. Just please be careful with the noises both of you make at night, we have kids around here.”

Shit.

You swallowed your pride right there and simply gave a nod, feeling the heat burning up your face.

“Will do, Professor.”

—

A loud gasp escaped your lips as you held for dear life on his broad shoulders, hips snapping against your own. His pace was reckless, keeping you on the edge of sin. Grunts mixed with sweet moans, skin hitting skin again and again every time you felt his cock inside you. If possible, your nails could have already left visible scars and marks on his back, scratching and bleeding off his skin as he fucked you senseless.

Logan sucked on the bare skin on your neck, inhaling your scent, feeling your walls clenching around his girth, his hands roughly grabbing the sides of your hips as you moaned his name, over and over, under the moonlight. He looked at you intensely with loving eyes when you came underneath him, eyes flashing that familiar bright light every time a powerful orgasm hit your body. The vulnerable sight of your figure shaking, eyes closing slowly and biting your lip to keep the pretty noises low, made him reach the sweetest high.

With a grunt, he leaned to attack your lips in a heated, wet kiss to moan against your mouth. Logan pulled back to press butterfly kisses on your jaw, until he reached your breasts, feeling himself soften inside your wet heat. His hips were still thrusting just enough to fill you up at a gentle rhythm. Marking you his and only his.

“Fuck, you’re so beautiful,” he mumbled against the sensitive skin of your chest. “Remind me why we’re here again.”

You chuckled softly, fingers tangling on his disheveled hair. You just had prepared a small date night out at the shores of a beautiful lake in the woods. No one could bother you if you were alone, and since your relationship was not so secret anymore, you needed him in a place that wasn’t the school. So here you were, laying on your back, fully naked on the picnic blanket, with the Wolverine between your legs, enjoying the calmness of the water, the green grass, the crickets singing around, and the cold of the night.

“Privacy perhaps?” you whispered as his eyes locked on yours.

Softly you touched his cheek with the palm of your hand and he rolled both of you over, until you laid on top of him, legs straddling his waist and your arms on his shoulders to sit on his lap. Silence took over, his hands soothing your hips and the marks he left on your body from the intense love-making.

“I’m so happy we took a couple of days off…”

You waited for Logan to say something. Anything. You wanted to continue, to tell him how you really felt. Instead, you decided it was better leaving it like this. Logan gave you a nod, pulling you for a short kiss.

“Yeah. Me too.”

He wanted to say it out loud, but was too scared to do so.

—

2006

After a couple of long years, the school and the team had to learn how to go through the grief and pain Jean left. Logan had a hard time processing it, just like all your teammates, specially Scott, and of course the students. It didn’t stop you from moving on as time went by though, always remembering her for the great person and mind she was. Going forward and keeping fighting is what she would’ve wanted for everyone, even now that a certain cure for mutants was announced to the public.

You tried to continue your life as a professor at the school, training students, leading young people, and you invited and encouraged Logan to do so countless times. Deep inside, you wished it was you the reason why Logan decided to stay and train young mutants - for you to be the answer to his loneliness. That he knew, for once and all, that he was not alone. You got each other, and you could do something about it. Words unspoken said more than anything, at least you thought so.

It was one of those rare nights where you got some time for yourselves, walking around the city after having a nice and calm dinner. Your shoulders brushed against each other while you walked downtown, your hands hiding inside the pockets of your jacket, protecting them from the cold.

There was a lot on your mind lately, thinking about what you two really were. If there was a stronger feeling in between, or if it was solely because he enjoyed your company and that was it. Both had lived enough to know there was a feeling in the middle. It wasn’t just friends with benefits, or co-workers who sleep together three times a week. Something was blooming deep inside you, but you tried to not give it a lot of attention all those years. Still, it felt like it had to be addressed sooner or later, and this could be the time. In the end, you understood each other perfectly. How painful it was, how living longer than anyone was, how you had to leave everything and everyone behind because you were dangerous…

“Have you ever wondered how’d it feel to have a normal life?” your question came out all of the sudden.

“How come?” He looked at you from the corner of his eye.

You didn’t know if his gaze was judging you but you continued anyway.

“Like living a normal amount of years… Not having these things, genes that make us different. Or special…”

Logan suddenly stopped in his tracks and grabbed your arm softly so you could lock eyes together as he asked. “You’re not thinking of getting that damn cure, aren’t you?”

“Of course not!”

“Then why’d you think that?”

“Because I never had anyone in my life, Logan,” you spat, pulling your arm away from his grip. “I’ve been alive for so long but I can’t promise myself a future. A real one. Not anything, it doesn’t matter if I live forever. Every person I loved before perished.”

Those words shook him out of the rough façade showing on his face. Your gaze told a hundred different stories when he studied your face every time. It was like mirroring himself at some point. You were the first person he ever got to know that has lived as long as he has, and maybe it was the sentimentalism, but he tried to push away those wishes of settling down. Of trying to be normal. Because he was not, and maybe, just maybe, you just didn’t accept it like he did. Probably, he was just giving up. But you weren’t, even after hundreds of years of disgrace continuously happening.

“I thought you’d get this, Logan.”

You mumbled, taking him out of his trance.

“Well, I do, in a way,” he said, but sounded more like an excuse for himself.

“Then why don’t you say it?”

“Wha-”

“Just say it,” you repeated and pointed between you and him. “What is this for you? What are we?”

Logan grabbed on your shoulders gently and leaned towards you, stealing a kiss on the sidewalk, a kiss you obliged with a bittersweet feeling for some reason, but then he whispered. “Darling, you’re everything to me now.”

Yet, you smiled and kissed him back, feeling his lips curve against your own. Well, that wasn’t so hard was it?

—

Needless to say, after the last date, your relationship with Logan had evolved to something more domestic, considering you lived together in your workplace. Affection, holding hands, quick kisses were shared now a little more freely, and you had received a couple of jokes and teases from some students and Storm. But it was fine as long as you had cleared your path with Logan, even if he didn’t act like a partner sometimes.

The certain calmness you felt one day disappeared when Logan and Ororo went to look for Scott, who often had these sad thoughts, and since Jean was his partner, it was thoroughly complicated for him to say the least. When Logan and Ororo came back to the mansion, it was not what you expected to see. Jean was alive and Scott was gone.

It hurted you, knowing first hand that their love wouldn’t be anymore. You met both of them when they were so young, becoming something like their mentor when they used to learn how to control their powers and how to fit in this world that loathed mutants to death. Now, the school was something else. It was a big, special place that was not the same without the brains of Jean, or the enthusiasm and leadership of Scott. Things were different, they had to change because the circumstances told so, and everyone had a difficult time adapting to it. One thing after another left you tired, with no option to run away, even if you wanted to. The complicated circumstances and the relationship you shared with Logan were no help either.

While on your way to check on Jean, who was still under observation after a couple of days, you stopped in your tracks when the heavy door of the med bay slid. Logan, looking all out of his daily self and mad, found you at the entrance, and you felt something different emanating from him.

For what you could see behind him, Jean was still asleep, and the Professor called Logan to come back with a serious voice, but he ignored the older man, instead approaching you.

“You knew, didn’t you?” Logan grasped your arm, his tone lower and deeper than usual.

You quickly pulled off his grip and hissed. “What are you talking about?”

“Jean.”

You felt silent. Of course she was anything he could think of since they found her.

“You knew he was controlling her,” Logan went on and your heart skipped a beat.

The look in your eyes told everything but lies. Logan scoffed and walked away, leaving you standing alone under Professor Xavier’s gaze.

“I’ll talk to him,” you mumbled at your mentor before following Logan, trying to keep his pace until he reached his room.

The whole way you tried to keep it professional, greeting students as normally you would, but when you crossed his door it was impossible to continue with the facade.

“Logan-”

“He’s insane,” he snapped, putting his jacket on and taking his bag out.

“Everything that was done was meant to protect her,” you responded calmly as he placed a handful of clothes inside the bag.

“No, you did it because you are disgusting. I bet this is what should’ve been for me if I refused to cooperate with your circus or something.”

“You don’t know what she is capable of-”

“Yeah, well I don’t wanna hear it anymore. This is so fucked up, even for you,” he continued, bag on his hand taking long strides until you were almost touching noses.

You scoffed, trying to laugh at the irony. “What does that even mean? Do you know how horrible it is to be controlled by the Phoenix inside her?.”

Logan rolled his eyes, not wanting to hear another poor excuse. You continued anyway, looking straight in his eyes before he could leave you hanging with your own words. Exactly like he used to do every damn time when you had an argument. Today, he wouldn’t run away that fast.

“She could kill you in a second and won’t hesitate. For her, we’re nothing. We’re not rivals, we can’t do shit. The only thing we could do was keep her alter ego somewhere hiding inside her mind, or else we wouldn’t be here arguing about something you never witnessed. Because I did and you don’t wanna see that, trust me,” you spat at him. He breathed rage at your words and you knew that it was getting on his nerves seeing the way his hands turned to fists. “And you think this version of her cares for you? Or that she loves you? Jean is gone now, Logan, fucking get over it.”

With last harsh words, you turned around and left the room, closing the door with a thud.

Logan breathed out. He wanted to scream, hit something, run away… Anything to let it out. He was a reckless mess but how could he react and accept Charles was playing with Jean’s mind? And you fucking knew all this time and didn’t say anything? Were his feelings dirty on him right now? Probably. Shit, he took years to finally tell you the truth about his love and affection towards you. He spent months trying to find the right words just to say ‘I love you’, and still, it seemed it wasn’t enough. The forbidden love he felt for Jean never disappeared, and he felt guilty for it.

—

You walked down to the med bay after calming down for a bit. You only needed to check on Jean for a moment and see how she was doing. Years prior, you had witnessed what the Phoenix was capable of, so you didn’t really question Charles’ methods when it came to hide this dangerous side of her inside her mind. You also thought your words might have been a little harsh on Logan, but it was the truth. He didn’t know who the Phoenix was and, if his feelings for Jean resurfaced after believing her being dead, then it wasn’t on you. As much as you loved him, as much as you tried and somehow managed to move on together, he was so easily dragged to her.

The anger you felt before took over you once again, as you found the metal doors of the lab in debris. Quickly, you made your way inside the room and found Jean wasn’t there and that Logan was lying unconscious on the floor. You knelt down by his side, calling him over and over and touching his face and shaking his shoulders until he finally opened his eyes slowly, coming back to reality.

“Logan, what happened?”

“She… she killed Scott. The Phoenix,” he whispered. You could tell he was a little weak and out of breath.

“You’re lucky she just ran away,” you pointed out, helping him to sit down. His eyes were lost in the mess in the room. Tools were destroyed, test tubes broken, crystal was everywhere, and Jean left the reminder of kissing him, yet again, before she escaped. God, he felt so idiotic.

“I’m sorry,” Logan said, looking at you. “Sorry for being a jerk. It’s my fault.”

Taking his cheeks between your hands, you gave him a reassuring look. “We’re gonna find her, okay?”

He nodded. “Yeah, we’ll find her.”

“Come here, we need to alert Charles,” you said, helping him to stand up.

Inside, you knew he wouldn’t really need your help. He was strong and indestructible like the metal on his skull, but he seemed really taken back, and you decided to stay by his side, holding his hand strongly as a way to say sorry as well. It was kind of difficult to see Logan in that state of mind, confused and lost, and you wondered what had happened back there in the lab as you left him in his bedroom, ordering him to rest for a while.

“I’ll be right back,” you assured him with loving eyes.

Logan nodded, following your figure stepping out the room and disappearing in the hallway.

He let out a breath he didn’t know was holding. His mind was having a hard time and his heart felt like breaking, going in two opposite directions, and he hated himself for that. His fate was always the same: losing people he loved and cared for dearly. So seeing Jean back again was as if god or anything up there remembered he existed and brought her back just for him. Or maybe he was just being selfish because he already had you.

You were everything for him. A couple of years might be just a short glimpse for both of you, but he was able to feel peace and calm next to you, and he was sure you did as well. Because some nights, that was all you could talk about. Logan didn’t mind hearing you for hours, it reminded him he was alive. With you, but his stupid instinct had to act.

It was his fault Jean had left. The kiss, the whole act of embracing each other’s bodies for at least two minutes, and then her breakdown, begging for him to kill her… All of that was enough to bring out the beast inside her. And he felt such a jerk now for following his desires. He already had you. Wasn’t that enough?

His thoughts were interrupted once you arrived again, finding him sitting at the end of the bed exactly as you had left him there. Sensing something different on him, you sat down by his side and rubbed his hand gently.

“We might know where she’s going,” you whispered.

“I’ll go,” Logan said before you could finish.

“I’m not sure if I should ask, but are you okay? You could do some rest,” you suggested, since seeing the redhead was clearly getting some kind of reaction from him.

“No, I need to go,” he said. But Logan could read your face perfectly, and he knew you didn’t really like the idea of him leaving the mansion. You turned your eyes, scanning the room and avoiding his gaze.

You had the need to ask what exactly had happened back there with Jean, but you didn’t want to start a fight either. Feeling Logan’s hand on your shoulder, he leaned to kiss your forehead goodbye. Maybe you were the one who should stay, check the kids, the school…

“It’ll be fine,” he mumbled, voice low and deep, as if trying to convince you, but himself as well. You nodded with your arms around his neck, giving him a hug that felt like some sort of apology you weren’t able to say out loud. “Don’t worry, it’ll be fine.”

And how you’d wish things would be fine.

—

The school has been very quiet lately. Too silent even for his taste. At nights like these, he could still feel the vigor and presence of the students running around, grabbing something to eat, planning to go out for a while... Instead, Logan found himself in a place that was mourning. Grieving the loss of Jean, Scott and Charles.

The feelings inside were complicated. He didn’t really feel the same, and the disgrace and remorse of his actions were growing on him. They were still haunting him; every day, every single night. You knew it too. It was impossible to ignore the nightmares each time he woke up from seeing Jean’s lifeless body fall against his own after he gave what she wished for the most: death.

And then, there was you. He noticed how difficult it was getting for you to sleep. You tried to hide your sorrow into your work, studying even more, keeping yourself busy with the school and not thinking about anything else. Since Charles was gone, Ororo took his place and you were her second hand. But you pushed yourself too hard.

Tonight he found your bedroom empty. He didn’t find you on his either, so he went to the place he knew you would be: your classroom. The door was half opened, the dim light of the lamp on your desk barely illuminated the papers on the surface. He found you deeply concentrated reading on something, hands on the sides of your head hiding your face.

“Hey,” he softly mumbled, stepping inside the empty classroom.

You quickly straightened yourself on the chair, wiping your cheeks and tried to look decent for a moment.

“Hey,” you replied back, low voice.

“Come to bed,” he said, coming to stand before you, his hand on your shoulder comforting and soothing you, making its way to the side of your neck. His big palm on your cheek, caressing the skin stained with your tears as if it was the most delicate thing. He took a look at the mess of papers and old books you loved too much to get rid of, scattered on the wooden surface.

“No, I- I can’t. Need to finish these by tomorrow…”

Logan gave you a nod and a grimace before taking your hand, motioning to come closer. You stood up, knowing he was trying to get you out of the work that was consuming you.

He observed every feature on your face, the sadness in your stare couldn’t be hidden. He just knew you too well, just like the palm of his hand, and he wanted to make you forget. At least for a little. You had taken care of him, helped him with your presence and your unique aura, bringing him comfort and peace to his broken mind. He wanted you to be fine. To feel loved.

Logan leaned just exactly to brush his lips with your own, teasing a kiss that he longed too much, his hands around your waist pulling you towards him.

“Can you just let me take care of you?”

Swallowing hard the knot on your throat, you curled your lips as much as the grief let you. “Yes,” you nodded.

With this, Logan leaned until your lips connected. Your arms around his neck pulled him as closer as you could get, feeling his chest against your own, his strong hands around your waist, softly touching you above your clothes.

Logan slowly walked you until your back hit the desk, hands roaming on your ass down to your legs, placing you to sit down over the loose pages. It might ruin the work a little, but none of you cared. Everything in your head was him, between your legs, running his wet mouth down your jaw, his stubble burning your skin as you gasped gently. Lying on your back on the desk, he began descending down your breasts, unbuttoning your blouse until he exposed you to the cold of the room.

He stopped right on your trousers, and gave you a quick glance. You were so eager, wet already. He could sense it. Your eyes were glowing and you were already trying to catch your breath by just his kisses and touch.

“You locked the door?” you whispered.

“Damn right I did,” he voiced, hoarse and low voice from just thinking of railing you right there and then.

“Then don’t stop.”

At your command, he unzipped your trousers, letting them fall down along with your heels on the floor. He then leaned to take your lips in a sloppy kiss, more urgent this time of feeling you close. You moaned, nails scratching his skin. His calloused hands explored your bare legs and things, creating friction with his hips with slow, controlled thrusts against your crotch. Logan left a trail of kisses down to your breasts, licking and tasting the saltiness of your body.

You urged him to go down where you ached the most, hand tangling on his hair. His hands grabbed the back of your thighs, spreading to him until his nose was almost buried on your panties, smelling and taking the sweetness of your scent, licking softly with his wet tongue over the fabric. A trail of moans and curses left your lips. He pulled your panties aside before diving in your pussy, licking your folds and teasing your hole with two of his fingers.

“Logan…”

His name repeatedly left your mouth like a plea, his fingers now inside you, stretching your walls for him. The noises grew obscene and nasty as he ate you out like a sweet craving he had been denying himself the pleasure for so long.

He was growing hard just by hearing your whimpers, and he needed you. You always were a fucking longing for him. Your words, your intelligence, your beauty… Everything he needed, you had it. And still, he didn’t have any idea of how such a rational, smart woman like you learned to love him so deeply.

You tugged on his hair, hips thrusting up to meet his growling mouth. You were so close, felt almost there where you wanted, but he pulled away before you finished.

Logan unzipped his jeans leaning back, admiring your blissed out eyes and glistened figure.

“Come here,” you begged in a whisper, tangling your legs around his waist.

He let out a low, dirty chuckle, feeling your hands on his boxers, freeing his erection.

“So fucking eager,” Logan breathed kissing your lips, hands supporting his weight at the sides of your head on the desk.

You tasted yourself within the kiss and you moaned at his words, your hand pumped him just enough to feel his pre cum leaking already, lining his dick with your cunt. Inch by inch, he entered slowly so you could get used to his size. Logan pecked your lips gently, kissing your cheeks and the side of your neck to get into your sensitive skin. You tugged on his white shirt so he could remove it and he ripped your bra apart right after. He loved to feel your chest pressed against his own. You gasped but paid no mind, instead urging him to move inside you.

“Shit, Logan please-”

A particular harsh trust caught your breath on your throat. You held onto dear life with your hands on his shoulders. He pounded into you rock hard and deep. So damn deep the desk was shrieking under, papers fell off and the lamp moved at the same rhythm but you hoped it won’t break.

Logan growled, inhaling your scent and tasting the sweat forming on your collarbone, your breasts bouncing against his chest. He felt your nails trailing down his back, and oh, how he wished he could get damn scars on just by fucking you like this. But the view of you, squirming under him, eyes closed, being a whimpering mess… All because of him. He was so insanely in love with your fucked out expression every time.

Your walls clenched, close to the sweet end. Logan felt himself twitching inside your warm pussy and his thrusts were getting erratic and sloppy. He filled you up, reaching his own climax first, hot white ropes of cum painting your insides. Your pussy milked him all the way as he kept spliting you open until you let yourself go, legs trembling around his waist.

For a moment, you stayed like this, with him kissing your shoulder and caressing your thigh, taking in the aftermath of your intense lovemaking.

“Thank you…”

Your whisper forced him to look up at you. There it was, that loving, sweet gaze you had reserved just for him.

He nodded, palm on your jaw holding you gently. “Of course…”

For some reason, he wanted to voice out for once those stupid three words.

I love you.

Or at least hoped you would do it first.

—

The night was cold under the moonlight, almost freezing. He wondered how he got trapped there, between the messy, withered shrubbery, fog, and the trees of a forest he never recalled knowing. He was alert, senses to the limit in case something might attack him. He felt as if he was being watched, but there were no eyes he could find around. He couldn’t see much like that.

But then a voice started to call his name from afar, claws coming out immediately as he sharpened his senses to find the owner. One, two, three times he heard, trying to find the person who was calling but there was only darkness. His heart skipped a beat when someone spoke behind him.

“Logan…”

He turned on his feet and he felt like dying again. “Jean?”

He withdrew his claws back immediately. The redhead smiled, coming closer until she touched his cheek with a soft hand before pulling away. “How are you, Logan?”

“What-”

“Are you happy now?” she asked, beaming brightly as if they were in a casual conversation instead of the darkness of the woods.

His brows furrowed. She couldn’t be real. She wasn’t there with him. Jean was gone, he had killed her because it was what she wanted. It was her way out to get what she needed; it was the key to her freedom…

“What do you mean?”

“With her… Be careful. You could kill her. Just like me,” Jean whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

Logan stepped back, trying to get away. He shook his head in disbelief, not knowing exactly why Jean was saying this to him.

“No… You’re not real…”

“Everything you love is destined to death and chaos, Logan. You shouldn’t be there,” Jean continued, her eyes switching from her usual tone to a deep black. The ground began trembling under their feet with each step of her, wind building up around. Logan felt truly scared, but somehow he couldn’t run, just stand there as she approached. “All she will know is a life of suffering if you stay. She doesn’t need that.”

“Jean-”

“She doesn’t need you!”

“Jean!”

And then it happened so fast. His claws buried on her chest, the Phoenix disappearing and leaving her to die. Jean collapsed against his body and Logan reminisced about the events of that battle, where he had to choose to be selfish or liberate her from her own demons. Logan wasn’t sure why he stabbed her like this. And when he thought Jean was dead in his arms, she started to call his name again. This time, he heard it far away.

Logan.

Logan…

Logan!

His eyes went wide open. And there you were, by his side on the bed, calling for him with a pain grimace on your face. His claws buried on your stomach.

“Logan…” you gasped and he pulled the claws out, but you were already bleeding, your nightshirt and the mattress stained.

“Shit, I’m so sorry, I’m sorry- I-”

“It’s okay,” you managed to say as he caressed your cheek before taking you in his arms hurriedly and quickly made the way out of your room through the halls. “The nightmares… I know, Logan…”

“God, I’m so sorry, please forgive me. Hank!” Logan stood outside the scientist’s door. “Hank, I need your help!”

The commotion caused some of the students to peek from their doors, and Logan waited outside what he felt it was forever under the gazes of the teenagers. It wasn’t the first time he had caused the same accident. The door opened, finally revealing a sleepy Hank putting his glasses on.

There was no need to explain what had happened.

—

“She’ll be stable soon,” Hank informed once he let Logan inside the med bay. “If you hadn’t brought her soon…”

Logan swallowed the knot on his throat, watching your unconscious figure on the stretcher. You already had received blood to cover up what you lost because of the wounds, and Logan’s claws were not minor weapons. His mind was a mess, confusion taking over. He didn’t know how he let this happen. He had nightmares pretty often, yes, but nothing like this.

Maybe Jean was right. Maybe she was trying to warn him about something. Or Jean was just trying to protect you from him. The last one felt more realistic. Logan wouldn’t hurt you, not ever. You talked about how dangerous it was to sleep together not so long ago, but you had insisted on staying. It was the first time something felt so damn real in his dreams and he wished you wouldn’t let him in your room that night…

“She’ll wake up, right?” Logan asked.

“Absolutely,” Hank nodded. “I will need to monitor her vital signs though, hopefully within a day or two she will be normal again… At least she’ll be stable until the wounds heal completely.”

Of course, Logan thought. You didn’t have a healing factor just like him.

“I’ll be right back,” Hank announced before stepping out of the room, leaving Logan alone.

He felt so guilty for doing this to you. For everything. For being the cause of your suffering now. He was a threat and mentally unstable. He was strong thanks to his genes, but he was weak on the inside. He promised countless times to protect you, but he couldn’t avoid hurting you himself. It didn’t matter that it was a very bad dream that felt disgustingly real, he had failed and hurted someone who truly loved. Again.

Taking your hand gently into his, he leaned to plant a kiss on your forehead, wishing it would be just another game from his mind.

But it wasn’t. Now, he had the person he loved the most lying unconscious and hurted because he would let his darkest thoughts consume him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled, watching you sleep peacefully. “I should have said it sooner.”

PART TWO

#logan howlett x reader #wolverine x reader #logan howlett x you #wolverine x you #logan howlett x female reader #wolverine smut #logan howlett smut #logan howlett angst #logan howlett fanfiction #wolverine angst #james logan howlett #x men fanfiction

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amaranthineghost · 8 months ago

Text

I'LL LET YOU GO IF THAT'S WHAT YOU WANT ( lando norris. )

lando norris x reader

a little over half a year later when the season ended, they haven't found their way back. At least not on purpose, but the universe knows better than them

authors note: I was thinking of making a happy ending, but not everything always ends up that way </3 after this, I'll work on two max imagines and then I'll see what I can do while I'm on spring break

part 1 found here

IT’S BEEN EIGHT MONTHS since she last spoke to him.

two hundred forty-three days since she last saw that sad look on his face in the rear-view mirror as she drove away from the past she half-wished was her future.

five thousand eight hundred thirty-two hours since she last felt his touch, his arms consoling and unwilling to let her go and yet she still left.

three hundred forty-nine thousand, nine hundred and twenty seconds since the peak of his performance at the beginning of the season. now she watched as he tried and failed to be what he once was. maybe not a winner, or a champion, but he’d had her, which was practically equal.

but now he had lost her.

now she watched as the season came to an end. poor performance after poor performance after poor performance where not all races ended in crossing the finish line.

she never stopped watching, yet she could never reach out, and neither would he. he was always going to be ready to accept her back into his life, yet he knew she needed time.

but she didn't know if she could do it again, though at the same time she kept eyeing his life in envy because part of her wished she could live the way he could without being bothered by the media. part of her was jealous he could live his entire life in front of a camera and be so nonchalant about it.

scrolling through his socials, they still followed each other and it caught people's attention. she read through countless tweets, theories and rumors of their relationship still carrying on behind the cameras, and though she partly wished it to be true, she hated that it wasn't. the fans still wished, and she would too.

the random appearances in the paddock had come to an end, unfortunate for the fans who loved whenever she’d show up in support of her boyfriend, turned ex.

because now all she did was stay within the confines of her apartment building, shielded from the possibility of running into lando. she couldn’t handle bumping into him when she still felt as fragile as glass. she felt like she would shatter if she saw him again, no matter how much she wanted him back.

but living in monaco means you're bound to run into someone from his circle of life.

it felt bittersweet because she wanted him back so badly, to have him hold her in his arms and tell her they’d make it work. but it’d never happened, and truthfully, she hoped it never would. because she knew that if she saw him, she wouldn’t go running back into his arms as if making it work again was the easiest option. because really, if she saw him, she would run, not towards him but away, and she dreaded the fact that he would let her.

he’d watch the love of his life run from him rather than to him and be totally fine with it. because he knew that when the time was right, she would find him again, or he would find her, and only then she wouldn’t run from him.

but he feared for the day that he would realize that she was never coming back to him. he feared for the day where he would realize he shouldn't have let her go.

and he hopes for the day, though it may never come, where she does find the right time to come back to him. he prays for the day where he would make the right choice he should've made the first time.

because in the infinite universes that are said to exist, even if she never returns in nearly every one, he hopes to live the one where she would.

but he knows that if there's a universe where she comes back, even after his idiocy of letting her go to begin with, there's also one where this could've been avoided all together. a universe where he didn't have to watch her pack her bags while shuddering with sobs.

a universe where he wouldn't have to go without her for eight months, where his performance improved when she attended grand prixs.

the one he'd rather live with her than without.

it was unsure when they would ever see each other again. they'd gone this long without seeing the other, who's to say they ever would?

it was chilly in the streets of monaco, contrast to the usually warm, sunny climate the area was known for. she wore a thick coat while she walked down the sidewalk, past the seasonal market with nothing more than her phone, wallet and tote bag.

she needed to get out, to think. she couldn't stand being trapped in the box of her apartment surrounded by nothing but reminders of him. not that it was a bad thing.

she couldn't take another second overanalyzing the helmet he had left for her. she knew it was part of his plan to have her back. to make her want more helmets dedicated to her, which he continued to do despite her not being with him. she'd be lying if she said his plan was failing.

the hoodie, probably tied into the same plan, covered in his damn cologne he knew she couldn't get enough of. it had faded over time, becoming replaced with the smell of her instead. she didn't know what to think of it.

she considered purchasing that same cologne again, drowning the fabric in its fragrance. it wouldn't be the same.

she felt like she could breathe easier with the winter air rather than the stale air of her apartment. sure, she could've stepped onto the balcony, but it was always nice to find a way out of her apartment complex.

hands stuffed in her pockets, she wandered around aimlessly at the shops that lined the streets and stalls set up to buy from.

riddled with things that caught her eye, she couldn't help but stop at nearly every stall. it took an incredible amount of self control to not buy everything she wanted. she didn't have lando by her side to buy everything.

this was her life now. she had a job that she could do from home and it paid her rent. it was enough to live off of while she completed her last years of school before she started a career for herself. tiny little trinkets seemed good in the moment, but she knew long-term that it’d eventually hurt her financially, and besides she didn’t have that much space in her apartment.

she didn’t know how much time had passed. everything was a blur as she mindlessly walked on. she hadn’t noticed when she bumped her shoulder into somebody’s chest, and she had immediately begun to apologize.

“i’m so sorry, i wasn’t looking where i was—lando?” she recognized the curly-haired guy in front of her as she stood there frozen.

“hey, long time no see,” he spoke slowly and warily, looking her up and down at the changes of her appearances that occurred over the last eight months.

“uh—what are you doing here?” she questioned, stuttering over her words just slightly as she looked at him tensely.

lando looked around with a brow raised, hands in his pockets while he answered, “uh, i live here?”

she nodded, “right.”

the air was awkward as they stood in a tense silence. people ushered around them, occasionally bumping into them. they hadn’t known what to say to each other because they weren’t expecting this impromptu meeting.

“how’ve you been?” he broke the silence.

she nodded again, “fine, and you? i saw that your season wasn’t too good.”

he grimaced softly at her words, “yeah,” he scratched the back of his neck, “just some technical issues.”

“right.”

the silence was back and more deafening than the first time, standing awkwardly looking at each other didn’t help.

again, he was the one to break it, “could i buy you a drink?”

“isn’t it a bit early for alcohol?” she questioned, looking at the brightness of the sky before her gaze settled back down at him with a weird look.

he scoffed, “i mean the coffee shop down the street,” his voice was a half chuckle as he began walking, leaving her to follow.

“well, you’re unpredictable these days,” she fell into step with him as they walked side by side in silence.

it took all of two minutes for them to arrive at the coffee shop lando had mentioned. they could smell the aroma from a ways away, the door left open to let in the cool breeze.

the shop was warm and cozy, most tables were occupied except for a few scattered around. she reached for her wallet to buy herself a coffee, but he quickly shut it down.

“it's my treat,” was all he said before he walked up to the counter with his card in hand to order as she took the two seater by the window, setting her bag down on the ground. she watched the world from where she sat, the people walking by.

groups of friends, pairs that weren’t quite at the stage of being a couple, or the single person walking by every so often. all without crossing paths. it seemed crazy to her how so much could change because of a stranger on the street.

looking back to where lando stood ordering, she wondered what her life would’ve been if they hadn’t met. they wouldn’t have traveled the world, stayed out late on rooftops, or partied in clubs despite her hesitancy. he wouldn’t have dedicated nearly his whole career to her because she was forever a piece of him.

she realized how much she had meant when she saw just how much of her he still kept. he wore shirts with printed pink bows, the one gold bracelet he wore among the silver and fan bracelets given to him by her and he never took it off. the way he styled his hair in the way she taught him, the matching rings they still wore, the references of her personality on his helmet for every race rather than a specific track, her name on his car.

her name on his car.

her name printed in pretty cursive across the top of his steering wheel and the halo for him to see.

he still managed to include her in his life despite her absence because he considered her his lucky charm. having reminders of her anywhere he could would always manage to boost his spirits, but only her presence would boost his performance.

the chair across from her pulled out with an uncomfortable scrape of the legs against the floor. she grimaced slightly, but it quickly disappeared when she refocused on the hand that slid a mug filled with hot coffee to her.

clearly they were going to be here a while, judging from the mug and not a to-go cup. she watched the steam swirl into the air as she softly blew on it while lando sat across from her with his beverage of choice. she also noticed the chocolate-chip cookie in a paper bag he held.

he remembered her love of sweets. she took a sip of her coffee. he remembered her order to the finest detail. he still remembered.

“thanks,” she spoke quietly before taking another small sip of the hot beverage. it slightly burned her tongue and throat as she drank, but she didn’t care to notice.

she was sitting across from lando norris, the one person she had been hoping to avoid this whole time, and now she’s sat with him at a coffee shop they used to frequent when they were dating.

“you’re welcome,” he muttered, his saddened eyes unmoving from her face, watching every expression of hers unfold. “so, how have you been?”

“you’ve already asked that,” she stated simply.

“i mean,” he started, leaning forward with his arms crossed against the table, “how have you really been? i don’t believe for a second that you’ve been fine when i‘m barely holdin’ it together.”

she sighed, taking another sip and grimacing at the burn, “it’s been difficult, but i know it was for the best that we broke up.”

he nodded in response, his fingers circling the rim of his mug as he stared into it.

she spoke up again, saying the words he dreaded to hear, “and i think it should stay that way.”

his shoulders visibly dropped and he bit his cheek before he looked back at her with colorless eyes, “but—” he began when she hastily cut him off.

“i need you to let me go,” her voice cracked as she spoke and tears filled her eyes as she avoided his gaze, “you have to let me let you go, lan.”

“please, don’t make me do this,” he begged, leaning forward again with a look that could make her change her mind in a second.

“please, don’t make this harder than it already is,” she shook her head as the tears began to fall, “in another universe, it might’ve been me and you, maybe the circumstances would've been in our favor, but not in this one.”

“it’s just right person, wrong life.”

“i’ll find you in our next lifetime then,” he promises, his eyes brimming with tears. he tried his best to hold back, for her, “i promise.” he tried to remain strong, for her.

“I know you will.” she said simply, smiling through her tears as she pursed her lips, sniffling as she played with her fingers. “y’know, i'll always be your number one supporter, lan. i'll still cheer for you, just from behind a screen. in that other life, i would come to your races.”

“but even in this one, i'll still celebrate your first win, your first championship. i'll vote you for driver of the day, even if you’re dead last.”

he chuckled sadly at the last part, the corner of his mouth twitching with a smile, “how will i know for sure you didn’t get bored of watching me race?” his hand reached across the table, his tan slightly faded and his rings cold.

she rolled her eyes softly, “you’ll know. i promise.” she laid her hand on his, the last somewhat intimate touch they’ll ever have with each other because after he watched her stand, pocketing the cookie he bought. he watched her through the window as she walked into the crowd as if their paths never met.

he watched with tears in his eyes, silently crying as he watched the love of his other life turn her back on him forever. he let her.

because if there was one thing he knew how to do, it was letting her go.

part of her wanted him to chase after her, wipe her mascara-stained tears just like that regretful day in their old apartment because part of her still wanted him in her life. she wished she could still go back sometimes.

he wished she would just come back. he wanted to experience life with her, he wanted to win with her, be a champion with her.

but he lived in the wrong universe, and he was unsure if he'd ever see her in this life again, in the way he wanted. they would bump shoulders on the street, looking longingly for just a second as they ushered by in a hurry. not looking back, but never forgetting how much they had meant to each other for the time they were together.

how crossing paths, even for what seemed like the shortest time to them, changed the trajectory of their lives forever. they would subconsciously look for qualities of each other in the people they moved onto. telling stories to their kids and grandkids about the other in regretful tones because they wished it was the kids they had together that they could tell the story of their relationship to.

because now they were just strangers, she was just a name he would forever keep on his car, and he was just an old lover turned stranger she would send flowers to after every podium and win until he would retire.

—

taglist (found here): @slut4lrh @taylorslovesswifties13 @leclercdream

proofread by @foreveralbon <333

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