— goodnight n go
chapter summary: You and Matt are childhood friends who met at the orphanage. But people always assume you two are dating.
word count: 3.6k+
pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader
notes: as an og matt murdock stan, i can't believe i've never wrote for him. i hope this is accurate to his character!
and the title goodnight n go is a song by ariana grande from her album sweetener - which i fully believe is an underrated album
also i consider this taking place between dd s3 and ddba
warnings/tags: mentions of twirling/playing with hair, after endgame (so tony is dead😭), best friends to lovers, fluff, pining, oblivious idiots, slight angst, mention of injuries and blood
“And don’t forget to clean the coffee filter. I don’t want anyone getting sick. Again.” You said, grabbing your purse.
“I swear, sometimes your worse than my mother.” Foggy replied, sipping from his mug.
Karen quirked a brow, “your mother isn’t exactly a role model for parenting.”
Matt let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "She’s got a point, Foggy."
Foggy sighed dramatically, setting his mug down. "Yeah, yeah. I’ll clean the damn filter. But if I get coffee poisoning or whatever, I’m blaming you."
"You’ll live," you said, amused. You glanced at Matt, reaching out to fix the slightly crooked knot on his tie. "You should eat something before court."
"Not hungry," he replied, though he didn’t move away.
"You never are," you muttered, smoothing your hands over his lapels before stepping back. "Text me if you need anything."
Matt tilted his head slightly, a small smile playing on his lips. "You say that like you won’t just show up unannounced."
"Don’t tempt me." You grabbed your coat, leaning in to press a quick kiss to his cheek. "See you later."
"See you," Matt said, voice softer now.
You gave a quick wave to Foggy and Karen before heading for the door.
Foggy exhaled loudly as it closed behind you. "That was totally normal. Super normal. Just two friends being weirdly affectionate in front of their other friends."
Matt ignored him, reaching for his cane. "We’re close. That’s all."
Karen shot him a look. "You’re also full of shit."
Matt just smirked and walked out.
---
It was late by the time you made it to Matt’s apartment, balancing a takeout bag in one hand as you knocked. You didn’t have to wait long—there was the distinct sound of locks clicking before the door swung open.
"You didn’t text," Matt said, leaning against the doorframe.
"You didn’t either," you shot back, stepping inside without invitation. "So I figured you probably forgot to eat. Again."
Matt sighed, but there was a hint of a smile on his face as he closed the door behind you. "You don’t have to keep feeding me, you know."
"You don’t have to keep skipping meals, but here we are," you said, setting the takeout on the counter.
Matt chuckled, walking over to the couch and sinking into it. "How was work?"
"Same as always. How was court?"
"Long," he admitted, rubbing a hand over his face. "But we won."
"Then that calls for a celebration." You grabbed the food containers and joined him on the couch, handing him one.
Matt took it, his fingers brushing over yours briefly. "You really didn’t have to do this."
"Yeah, well, I was already out, and I know your fridge is probably empty."
Matt smirked. "You checked my fridge?"
You rolled your eyes. "Not today, but I have a pretty good guess. And considering you didn’t argue…"
He huffed out a quiet laugh. "Fine. You got me."
You both ate in comfortable silence, the familiar hum of the city filtering in through the window. When you were done, you leaned back against the couch, letting out a content sigh.
Matt shifted beside you, his arm resting along the back of the couch. It was second nature when you tucked yourself closer, your head resting against his shoulder.
"You tired?" he asked, voice low.
"Mm, a little," you admitted.
Matt's fingers absently played with the ends of your hair, a familiar and comforting habit.
"You could stay," he murmured.
"You always say that," you said, eyes closed.
"And you always do."
You huffed a soft laugh but didn’t argue.
---
The scent of coffee pulled you from sleep, warm and rich, mingling with the quiet sounds of the city outside. You cracked one eye open, blinking at the unfamiliar ceiling before remembering—Matt’s apartment.
You stretched, groggy but comfortable, the sheets soft and warm around you. The space beside you was empty, but the dip in the mattress told you he hadn’t been gone long.
Dragging yourself up, you padded toward the kitchen, yawning as you leaned against the counter. Matt stood by the stove, pouring coffee like he had all the time in the world. He was still in the sweats and T-shirt he’d worn to bed, hair slightly messy, looking impossibly at ease.
"Didn’t wake you, did I?" he asked, already knowing the answer.
"You and your super-hearing," you muttered, rubbing your eyes. "I would’ve kept sleeping if your coffee didn’t smell so damn good."
Matt smirked, reaching for a second mug. "I’ll take that as a compliment."
You grabbed the hem of his shirt, tugging lightly as you stepped closer, resting your forehead against his shoulder. He huffed out a quiet laugh, free hand settling at your hip like it was second nature.
"Tired?"
"Mm. Your couch is comfy, but your bed is better."
"You say that like you weren’t the one who crawled in."
"Yeah, yeah," you mumbled, peeling away just enough to steal his coffee and take a sip.
Matt didn’t even try to stop you. "I was going to give you your own."
"You’re too slow."
"Or maybe I just like it when you steal from me."
You smirked against the rim of the mug, not missing the way his hand lingered at your waist. Instead of calling him out, you took another sip and turned toward the fridge.
"Pretty sure you don’t have food in here," you said, opening the door.
"You’d be correct," Matt said, completely unbothered.
You sighed, grabbing one of his hoodies off the back of a chair and pulling it on over your sleep shirt. "Guess we’re getting breakfast, then."
Matt hummed, setting his mug down before reaching out, fingers brushing over the sleeve. "You know you keep stealing my clothes, right?"
"You gonna do something about it, Murdock?"
His lips twitched, like he was holding back a smile. "Not a thing."
You grinned, grabbing his cane and tossing it to him before heading for the door. "C’mon, Devil Boy. Breakfast is on me."
"Generous," Matt mused, following after you without hesitation. "Just don’t expect me to let you steal my coffee and my food."
You didn’t bother responding. He’d let you do both anyway.
---
You smoothed your hands down the fabric of your outfit, eyeing yourself in the mirror one last time. It wasn’t often that you got this dressed up—definitely not for work—but a Stark Industries gala demanded something a little more refined than your usual jeans and hoodie.
A knock at the door pulled you from your thoughts. When you opened it, Matt stood there, looking effortlessly put together in a sleek black suit. The tie was perfect, the hair just slightly tousled, and the way he carried himself made it impossible to tell that he wasn’t seeing any of it.
"You clean up nice, Murdock," you teased, grabbing your purse.
His lips quirked into a small smile. "You’re one to talk."
His voice had that subtle shift, the one that always came when he was taking you in—not with his eyes, but in the way only he could. He wasn’t just listening to your words; he was listening to the way your breath hitched slightly, the way your heartbeat quickened when he leaned in a fraction too close.
You cleared your throat, stepping back. "Ready?"
"Always," Matt said, offering his arm.
You rolled your eyes but took it anyway, his touch steady and warm as the two of you headed out.
---
The gala was exactly what you expected—sleek, extravagant, and filled with people who had more money than they knew what to do with. The chatter was loud, glasses clinking as servers weaved through the crowd with trays of expensive champagne.
Matt stuck close to your side, his fingers lightly grazing your arm as the two of you maneuvered through the room. It wasn’t like he needed to be guided, but the contact was easy, familiar.
"Remind me again why I agreed to this?" he murmured near your ear.
"Because I asked nicely," you replied, plucking two glasses from a passing tray and handing him one.
"Mm. That must’ve been it."
You huffed a quiet laugh, taking a sip. The atmosphere was buzzing, but Matt seemed relaxed—more than you expected.
"Surprised you’re handling this so well," you admitted. "Figured the noise would drive you insane."
He smirked, tilting his head slightly. "I’m filtering most of it out. But you—" He shifted just a little closer, lowering his voice. "You’re easy to focus on."
Your fingers tightened slightly around your glass. He did not just say that with a straight face.
Before you could come up with a decent response, someone approached—one of your higher-ups at Stark Industries. You smiled, exchanging pleasantries, introducing Matt with an easy, "This is my friend, Matt Murdock."
Your boss smiled politely before turning to Matt. "It’s great to meet you. And what do you do?"
Matt’s lips twitched like he was holding back amusement. "I’m a lawyer."
"Ah, an honest profession," your boss said, clearly impressed. "And you’re here as—?"
"Her date," Matt said smoothly, with absolutely no hesitation.
Your brain short-circuited for half a second. Your boss nodded approvingly before launching into some talk about Stark’s latest legal team, but you barely heard a word of it.
Matt, meanwhile, looked completely unfazed. Like he hadn’t just said something that made your stomach flip.
The conversation wrapped up, and as soon as your boss was out of earshot, you leaned in slightly, keeping your voice low.
"Date?"
Matt just smiled, lifting his glass. "Figured that was easier than explaining whatever this is."
You squinted at him, but he only took a sip of his drink, calm as ever.
Damn him.
---
At some point in the night, the gala turned into something more social—music playing, people moving toward the open dance floor. You weren’t much of a dancer, but Matt, of course, looked completely at ease, even without seeing the way people moved around him.
"You’re staring," Matt said suddenly, lips quirking.
You scoffed. "I am not."
"You are," he countered, setting his empty glass down. Then, as if it was the easiest thing in the world, he extended a hand. "Dance with me?"
You blinked. "You hate dancing."
"That’s not true."
"You avoid dancing."
Matt smirked. "And yet, I’m asking you."
You hesitated for half a second before sighing, setting your glass down and placing your hand in his. His fingers curled around yours, warm and firm as he pulled you toward the floor.
His other hand settled at your waist, light but certain. Yours rested against his shoulder, and for a moment, the world shrunk to just the two of you, the music humming around you as Matt led with an ease that shouldn’t have been possible.
"You’ve done this before," you murmured, impressed despite yourself.
"Few times," Matt admitted. "But this is the first time I’ve actually enjoyed it."
Your breath hitched, heart stuttering before you could stop it. And from the way his lips twitched, you knew he caught it.
"You’re doing that on purpose," you muttered.
"Doing what?"
"This. Being all—" You gestured vaguely.
Matt just smiled, his grip on you tightening ever so slightly. "Maybe."
You narrowed your eyes, but you didn’t pull away. If anything, you let yourself relax into him, your fingers idly tracing the fabric of his suit as the two of you swayed.
It didn’t feel friendly. It didn’t feel like some casual thing you could brush off. It felt like something else, something real, something you weren’t sure you were ready to name just yet.
And from the way Matt held you—careful, close, like he knew exactly what this was—he knew it, too.
---
It had been a few days since the gala, and life carried on as usual—at least, that’s what you told yourself.
You pushed open the door to Nelson, Murdock & Page, a takeout bag in one hand and a coffee in the other. The office was quiet, save for the sound of Foggy typing furiously at his keyboard and Karen flipping through a stack of papers at her desk.
"Tell me you guys have eaten," you said, setting the bag down with a thud.
Karen looked up first, lips twitching. "We have now."
Foggy groaned in relief, already reaching for the food. "You’re a lifesaver. Matt’s in his office, by the way."
You hummed in acknowledgment, grabbing the coffee before heading toward the glass-paneled room at the back. The door was slightly open, and Matt was exactly where you expected—leaning back in his chair, fingers pressed against his temple like he was nursing a headache.
"You look like hell," you said, stepping inside and closing the door behind you.
Matt’s lips quirked at the sound of your voice. "And yet, you still bring me coffee."
"Because I’m nice," you teased, setting it in front of him.
Matt reached for the cup, fingers brushing yours in the process. You ignored the way your pulse jumped at the contact, shifting to sit on the edge of his desk.
"You should eat, too," you said. "I brought—"
"You didn’t have to do that," Matt murmured, cutting you off.
You rolled your eyes. "You say that every time, and yet here I am, making sure you don’t keel over from malnutrition."
Matt exhaled a quiet laugh, fingers curling around the coffee cup. "I appreciate it."
"You better."
There was a pause. The usual kind, the kind that never used to feel weighted—except, lately, it did.
Matt turned his head slightly, like he was studying you in that way he always did. "You okay?"
The question caught you off guard. "Me? You’re the one who looks like he’s been through hell and back."
Matt huffed. "Occupational hazard."
You folded your arms, watching him for a moment. His tie was slightly loosened, his shirt sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and there was the faintest shadow of exhaustion under his eyes. The usual signs of Matt Murdock burning the candle at both ends.
You reached out without thinking, adjusting the knot of his tie like you had at the gala. He stayed perfectly still, letting you.
"You really need to take better care of yourself," you muttered, smoothing out the fabric before pulling back.
Matt caught your wrist before you could move too far, his thumb brushing over the inside of it—absent, thoughtless, but lingering.
"You do that enough for the both of us," he murmured.
Your breath hitched before you could stop it. His lips twitched.
Damn him.
You pulled your wrist free, shaking your head. "Eat your food, Murdock."
Matt smiled like he knew exactly what he was doing. "Yes, ma’am."
---
A knock at your door this late was never a good sign.
You barely had time to process it before a second, weaker knock followed. Frowning, you unlocked the door and swung it open—only for Matt to nearly collapse against the frame.
"Jesus, Matt—" You grabbed his arm, steadying him as he exhaled sharply. His suit was torn in places, blood staining the red fabric, his lip split, and a nasty bruise was already forming along his jaw.
"You gonna let me in, or…?" His voice was rough, strained, but still laced with that familiar teasing edge.
You didn’t answer, just hooked an arm under his and pulled him inside, kicking the door shut behind you. Without hesitation, you grabbed the first aid kit from the cabinet and shoved him down onto the couch.
Matt let out a quiet grunt as he sat, shifting carefully. "You don’t have to—"
"Shut up." You dropped to your knees in front of him, flipping the kit open. "Take off the suit."
"You don’t waste time, do you?"
"Matt."
"Alright, alright," he muttered, wincing as he pulled the top half of the suit down, exposing bruised ribs and a gash along his side. He also took off his helmet.
You inhaled sharply but said nothing. This wasn’t new—you’d patched him up more times than you could count. But something about tonight felt different.
The room was quiet as you worked, disinfecting the wound, pressing gauze to the worst of it. Your hands lingered, fingertips brushing over the edge of a bruise, tracing the uneven rise and fall of his breath.
Matt didn’t flinch, didn’t pull away. If anything, he leaned into it, just slightly.
"You’re mad at me," he murmured.
You scoffed, pressing the bandage to his ribs a little harder than necessary. He sucked in a sharp breath.
"Of course I’m mad, Matt," you snapped, voice low but edged with frustration. "You show up at my door looking like this, you don’t tell me where you were or how bad it was—do you even think about what it’s like for me? Sitting here, waiting for you to—"
Matt cut you off the only way he knew how.
He kissed you.
It wasn’t hesitant, wasn’t questioning. It was firm, certain—like he’d already decided long before this moment that it was inevitable.
Your breath caught, but you didn’t pull away. His hands found your face, fingers ghosting along your jaw, mapping you out the way only he could.
You exhaled against his lips, your own hands grabbing onto his bare shoulders, nails pressing just slightly into his skin, but Matt didn’t pull away. If anything, he tilted his head, deepening the kiss, his hands sliding from your jaw to the nape of your neck. His fingers tangled in your hair, his touch light, careful—like he wasn’t sure how much he could take before you stopped him.
You didn’t.
Instead, you kissed him back, frustration melting into something else entirely. The heat of it, the way he breathed against your lips like he needed this just as badly as you did—it sent your heart hammering in your chest.
Finally, you pulled back just enough to catch your breath, forehead brushing against his.
"Matt," you whispered, voice unsteady.
His hands stayed where they were, fingertips still curled against the base of your neck. "Tell me to stop," he murmured, voice low, rough. "And I will."
You exhaled, fingers flexing against his skin. "I don’t want you to stop," you admitted.
Matt’s breath hitched. You felt it more than you heard it—the way his chest rose sharply beneath your hands, the way his grip on you tightened like he was committing this moment to memory.
Then, as quickly as it started, his lips were on yours again—slower this time, deliberate.
You didn’t know how long you stayed like that, caught up in him, but when you finally pulled away, Matt’s hands lingered, his thumbs brushing over your skin like he was still grounding himself.
"You’re still hurt," you murmured, running a hand over his ribs, where fresh gauze was now taped in place.
Matt let out a quiet chuckle, tilting his head. "You’re the one distracting me."
"You kissed me, Murdock."
"Mm. And you kissed me back."
You huffed, rolling your eyes, but you didn’t move away. "You need rest."
Matt hummed, not agreeing but not arguing either. His hands finally dropped from your face, settling instead at your waist, like letting go completely wasn’t an option.
"You staying?" he asked, voice softer now.
“Yeah. Afterall, you are in my apartment.”
Matt let out a quiet hum, his hands still resting at your waist, fingers curling slightly against the fabric of your shirt. He wasn’t letting go, and you weren’t pulling away.
"You’re on the floor," he murmured.
"Yeah, no shit," you said, raising a brow.
His lips quirked. "Come up here."
You hesitated, but only for a second before shifting, moving to sit beside him on the couch. Matt adjusted just enough to make room, one arm draping along the back of the cushions. His other hand found your knee, thumb brushing absentmindedly against it.
"You’re ridiculous," you muttered, leaning your head back against the couch.
"How so?"
"You come here half-dead, I patch you up, and then instead of resting, you start—" You gestured vaguely between the two of you.
"Kissing you?" Matt supplied, smirking.
You shot him a look. "Distracting me."
Matt exhaled a quiet laugh, tilting his head in that way he always did when he was focused on you, listening. "Do you regret it?"
The question made your breath catch, but you didn’t look away. Instead, you reached over, your fingers trailing along the edge of his jaw, ghosting over the bruise forming there. Matt didn’t flinch. If anything, he leaned into your touch.
"No," you admitted softly.
His grip on your knee tightened just slightly. "Good."
You rolled your eyes, but a small smile tugged at your lips. "You do need rest, though."
Matt hummed, clearly not in a hurry to move. His fingers slid up, resting lightly against the curve of your hip. "Stay?"
You exhaled, shaking your head. "Matt, I live here."
"Right. Convenient." He smirked, thumb brushing against your skin.
You huffed, shifting to lean into him, resting your head against his shoulder. He didn’t hesitate, his arm slipping around you like it was second nature.
For a while, neither of you spoke. His breathing was steady, the warmth of him grounding, familiar. You could feel the tension in his muscles start to ease, his body finally giving in to exhaustion.
"You’re not going out again tonight, right?" you asked, voice low.
Matt didn’t answer right away, which was already an answer.
"Matt."
"I won’t," he murmured.
"You better not." You tightened your grip on his arm, just slightly. "Or I’m locking you in here next time."
Matt let out a quiet chuckle. "Terrifying."
"Damn right," you mumbled, letting your eyes slip shut.
He didn’t say anything else, just pulled you closer, his fingers brushing lightly against your arm.
And for once, Matt actually stayed still.
i had a lot of fun writing this - the idea of falling in love with your best friend is just so cute! (curses to my childhood self for not having a male best friend to fall in love with😭)
it may be slightly unclear but reader is an engineer at stark industries!
and, one more thing, i'd love to write more of these two! if you have any requests, send them in! i fear that that shower scene in that ddba trailer has taken up my mind... so don't be surprised if i write shower sex with matt soon...
Din Djarin, The Star (XVII) 🌠
more of pedro's characters as tarot cards can be found under the # pedro tarot cards 💌
This was me writing it!! Thank you for the compliment and reading my story!
Maybe I’m too busy being yours, to fall for someone new.
Poe Dameron x f!reader
Rated M- 5.7k
Divider by @/saradika
tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, use of nickname "Blue" for reader, strong language, physical fight (not with MMC), cheating (not by MMC or FMC), rival pilots, unprotected piv, cream pie, praise kink, yearning Poe, ass smacking, hair pulling, we love a reader in charge!
Authors Note: Hello! As I was writing this story, "We could be together, if you wanted to" has gained some traction, so thank you all for liking my work! This idea of a yearning and pining Poe hit me, so I had to make it happen. For context, in this story there are three squadrons with order importance, Black squad, Red Squadron and Blue Squadron. Black and Red squad work on high importance missions and are ranked 'higher' than Blue Squad, which leads you, dear reader, to the story! I hope you enjoy "Crawlin back to you" as it is spicier than the others, and I hope to update "On the run (with you)" soon! As usual, I haven't reread this, I just post and hope for the best. I hope you enjoy!
Thank you!
It was only meant to be a one time thing.
A one time thing a month ago.
You gasp as Poe’s lips attach to yours with fervor, his tongue sliding parting your lips as his hands roam underneath your long sleeve. Your legs wrap around his waist tightly, making it oh so easy to arch yourself against the growing hardness in his pants as presses you harder into the wall of his room.
Allegedly, Poe Dameron never spent the night more than once with a lover.
This was the third time this week you've met.
He pulls back, gasping for air before his lips attach to your neck, licking and sucking that sweet spot below your ear so harshly you almost came on the spot.
“Poe, wait-”
He pulls back immediately, his lust darkened eyes meeting yours eagerly. “What is it, baby?” He hums, rubbing his thumbs on the soft skin of your thighs as he waits for, honestly, anything you want.
You smile, shaking your head as your hands thread through the soft curls on his head. This was a dangerous game, you realized. He was someone you couldn't have, no matter how addictive he was.
“I have a flight maneuver early tomorrow, I should head back to my room.” You reply back, letting your fingers drift towards the hot skin of his neck one final team before lowering them to his chest, patting it gently. His hands gave you one last squeeze before he lowered you to the floor, taking a few seconds to pull your shirt down to where it normally sat.
He was sweet.
It was dangerous.
Poe smiles softly, almost bashfully, “Wouldn't want you to miss out on sleep.” He agrees, but his hand still lingers on your waist. One word and you could have another night of pleasure.
You nod, gently stepping away from him and gathering your pants from off the floor, quickly stepping into them as you move around his room to collect your few belongings. “I promise I didn't come here just for this, I swear I had an actual question-” You begin to ramble, suddenly feeling the need to explain yourself, why you showed up so late.
Maker, you have never acted like this before.
Poe shakes his head, moving to sit on his bed as he watches you move through his space. “It’s fine, I’m always glad to be of service to you.” He grins good naturedly, not a trace of sarcasm escaping him. You pause in front of him, mouth opening to say anything to relieve this tension between you both.
You come up empty.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You say softly, giving him a small wave, as if this man were just some regular pilot and not the man who gave you back to back orgasms just the night before. Poe chuckles softly, his head dropping forward before he begins to stand up, joining your side as you both move towards the door.
“Sure, Blue.” He responds softly, and you can feel his hand lingering on the small of your back as you step out of his room, the sensation burning into your skin as his touch so often did. You turn around to face him, to try and explain the visit again, but his eyes are already locked onto yours and stealing any words you could have formed from your mouth. The air between you was thick, electricity striking your body with every noise coming from around you in the living quarters. Poe bites his lip as he raises a hand to your face as if to cup your cheek, the motion so quick you barely had time to close your eyes before a small flick hits the end of your noise.
You let out a shocked gasp as he laughs.“Be safe tomorrow, okay? Don't do anything stupid like you usually do when you get stressed.” The bedroom door slides to a close before your eyes even open again. A huff of irritation leaves your lips at his childishness, but you can't help the smile on your face as you take the long walk back to your own quarters. Even within your living space, there was no tie to the man. His room is filled with posters and plans strewn about his floors. The thick smell of cologne that almost seemed to hover like its own atmosphere. His room was so like him, warm, well lived, and well loved. Your room was bare boned. A bed and desk. Stacks of files for missions and maps coordinating future attacks organized by dates on your dining table. Straightlaced and to the point. This was who you both were. Two entities that orbited around one another but never should have met.
This was how it should have stayed.
The admired Black Squadron leader.
The calculated Blue Squadron leader.
The Blue Squadron was only a few achievements short of being on equal par with your fellow Squadrons. Poe and the Black Squadron were the primary team for any rebellion led missions, Red following as second in command. Today was your first chance of the year to prove to the general your squad was more than capable of handling complex missions, to be given the same opportunities as the Black and Red Squadrons. Your team was ready, you had been practicing for months now, and you felt it was now or never to prove to the rebellion what an asset Blue Squadron is.
And you blew it.
It was a standard attack formation, one you had prepped for so many times before. One you could do in your sleep. Your fingers moved robotically as you adjusted your coordinates, your team flying perfectly behind you. Your hand skims over the edge of the tiller, and before you realize it, your mind is drawn back into a memory of the other night.
Poe lying beneath you, his chest heaving as he bites his knuckles, your hand squeezing at his length with nervousness as you tried to sink yourself down onto him. “You couldnt mess this up if you tried, baby.” He had said to you, his hand resting on the back of your neck as you moved hesitantly against him.
“I don't know, he didn't think I was good at this-” Your words are cut off as his lips sear into yours, his hand threading through your hair to crush your face to his. Your muffled gasp is replaced by a small moan as he sheaths himself into you, already hitting that sweet spot with ease.
“I dont give a fuck what he thought, youre perfect, Blue.” He had hissed, bucking his hips up harshly to draw out another whimper from you.”Say it.” Poe demands, gripping your hips as he plows into you from below, your hands holding onto his shoulders tightly as you nod.
“I’m perfect,” You whisper, trying to muffle your cries against his neck as the sound of your skin connecting reverberated through his quarters. Poe moans in encouragement and you have the desire to bottle up that sound for yourself.
“Fuck yes, y-your perfect baby, so perfect for me-” He gasps, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his breath begins to come out in shorter spurts. Poe leans forward, pressing hot kisses along your chest, biting into the soft flesh of your breasts. You cry out louder, your climax nearing at a rapid pace as he pounds into you.
“P-Poe, please-”
“Please what baby, where do you want me?”
Another thrust has your vision darkening, a buzz sounding in your ear as he fucks into you harder. It was stupid. This wasn't meant to happen again. Not after the first time. But you were always a sucker for complexities. You brush your lips against his jaw, kissing messily along his skin before whispering into his ear.
“I want you to finish in me, I want you to be the first.”
If Poe wasn't gone before, he was now. His thrusts grew harsher, his fingers bruising your hips as he slams into you, mumbling incoherently. “Fuck, you want me to cum in you so bad, my perfect girl-” He groans, moving one of his hands to your slick folds to rub hard and fast against you. A sharp scream leaves your throat and you topple against his chest, your body pulsing around him tightly as you reach your orgasm. You can feel the last few thrusts before hot spurts coat your insides, Poe whimpering as his head falls against your shoulder, his back heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You tilt your head back. Your eyes glazed over with satisfaction as you both ride out your high together. You let out a little laugh and his hand quickly smacks your ass, Poe’s muffled voice coming from below you.
“I’m sensitive, you sadist.” He growls, and now you can't help the tumble of laughter pouring out from you. Poe lifted his head to glare up at you, but in that moment, your smile was so bright he couldn't help but chuckle along with you.
You shake the memory from your head, your squadron already approaching the final bend sooner than you anticipated.
“Focus, Blue, focus.” You whisper to yourself, watching your squad carefully as you begin your turn. It was sharp, but even a rookie could get through this, and you soar through it with ease. Next was more difficult, but you had practiced, you knew the formation like the back of your hand by now. You carefully lock your X-wing in, breathing out slowly as you wait for the harsher turn. The mind was always so fickle, that's why you preferred equations and plans. You could feel yourself slipping back into that same memory, a heat pooling in your lower belly. Then you hear that maker's damned voice once more.
“One more baby, give me one more.-”
“My sweet girl, taking me so perfectly-”
“I could stay in you forever-”
A hard jolt shoved you deeper into your seat, your X-wing began losing altitude. Your squad's voices blaring through your comms, overwhelming your mind as you tried to straighten your ship.
“Squad leader-”
“You’ve been hit!”
“Land now-”
And as if your ego couldn't take enough of it, that same voice from your mind rings out, but this time unfortunately through your headset like the others.
“What the hell are you doing, Blue?!”
Your teeth grind together as you pull yourself back into place, barely registering the sound of the flight tower calling your squadron back to base. Everyone was down there. Everyone had seen.
Cold sweat began to drip down your neck as you carefully took the time to land your X-wing, mechanics quickly running over to assess the damage to the outside exterior. You huff as you climb down the ladder, shaking your hair out of your hemet and relishing in the open air as you struggle to take deep breaths. You can hear your crew clambering to get to you, and you can hear their questions already.
What happened?
What happened?
What happened?
“Blue, what happened?”
Your eyes snap up to meet those soft brown ones you had come to know so well. Poe was gripping your shoulders tightly, his fingers digging into you whether he noticed or not. Your relief at seeing him was short lived as you remembered just why you crashed.
“I’m fine, Dameron.” You snap, shaking his hands off of you. Poe looks at you first with worry, then agitation.
“Obviously you're not fine, Blue. You could do this course in your sleep and you crashed!” He hisses, clenching his hands at his side. You frown, and begin to respond before another set of hands grip your shoulder. You only needed one look at Poe's glowering face to know who it was. One you had done so well at avoiding until now.
Red One.
Poe's second in command.
“Hey, what happened up there? You okay?” He asks quickly, his eyes raking over your appearance.You force a smile, brushing him off with ease.
“Honest mistake, I was-” Your eyes flickered to Poes before returning to the helmet in your hand, “I was just distracted was all.”
Red One was born on a planet near yours, the commonality making you both acquaintances in flight school. You both studied vigorously, and desired high marks, yet somehow both of you were always beaten by the one named Poe Dameron. The three of you grew and eventually joined the rebellion, him and Dameron taking over the Black and Red Squadron while you were assigned Blue. Despite the large amount of rebellion members, it was easy for you to drift back to him, the reassurance of something familiar in your life. While Poe was off gallivanting with his squadron across the galaxy, you both worked together on unit tactics. It wasn't long before you both began to reach for one another, quick meaningless acts of pleasure when it was needed. It was easy for it to mean nothing to you, because you both knew this wasn't forever, but at least you had one another.
It worked then.
Until Poe came around again.
Poe was always smart, but he was also warm, and charismatic. People were drawn to him like the sun, wanting a chance to feel that splendor for themselves. Despite the fact everyone wanted to be around him, after a recent 5 month journey he had decided to follow only you around aimlessly.
“Dameron, don't you have someone else to bother?” You muttered, clutching new plans from the general tightly to your chest. Poe walked behind you with a grin, his hands carelessly tucked into his jacket pockets as he kept up with you.
“When was it a rule that I couldn't spend time with a fellow squadron leader?” He retorts, gently nudging your shoulder with his own. You let out an exhausted sigh, rounding the hallway corner into the row of living quarters right before yours. Maybe you thought you could evade him, you weren't sure, but what you didn't expect was the door nearest you to slide open with a smooth hiss, giving you a clear look into the room. You stop so abruptly Poe barely had time to avoid colliding with your back.
“What the fuck, Blue-” He complains before glancing down to your face. Your eyes stared blankly into the room, one you had become very familiar with over the years.
Red One’s, now occupied by the pilot himself and a mechanic you recognized from the Droid depot, clothes littering the floor as they cling to each other near the door. Red One's eyes widen and he curses, fumbling around to slip back into his flight suit.
Now normally, Poe would make a sly comment, or laugh off the awkwardness with ease. But he couldn't. Not when he saw the expression you were making. Despite his games and jokes, he knew you well. Poes fist tightened as he stalked into the room, shoving Red One back a step. “Now, why the fuck would you do this?” He growls darkly, his brown eyes darkening with rage. You weren't sure if you have ever seen Poe like this, not even after a failed mission. Poe never resorted to violence. Never.
You move quickly, stumbling forward to grab onto his arm, tugging him back. “It's fine Poe, it's not that serious-”
“Not that serious? He had the best damn pilot in the rebellion and it wasn't serious to him?” His words make you pause, heat rushing to your cheeks as you tighten your hand on Poe's arm, giving him one last tug.
“Blue, I can explain-”
“It's fine Red, we're going now.” You respond calmly, carefully dragging Poe out of the room until the door can slide shut. Poe tugs you along swiftly moving down hall after hall until you recognize the path to your own living space. Your hand was still on Poe’s arm, and you could feel his body shaking underneath.
“Poe, it’s fine-”
“How long were you two together?” He asks, his tone softer now than it was previously. You glanced up at him, his brown eyes soft once more as they bore down into your own. You blink quickly, thinking of just how many months it had been.
“Since our first mission to Nevarro.” You answer honestly, and you don't know what to think about the string of curses that leave his lips. “Why does it matter, Poe? It was just a fling-”
“Was it just a fling to you?” He asks suddenly, his gaze hot and piercing. You try to answer, to conjure up some response, but all you can do is shake your head. “We both got what he wanted, and I'm actually surprised he waited this long to find someone else.”
The look of anger that flashes across his face has your brows furrowing, unsure of why it bothered him so deeply. You open your mouth to speak again before Poe lets out a deep sigh, turning to face you fully as his back rests against the metal wall. His hand reaches up slowly, gently touching the soft skin of your cheek.
“Still, are you okay?” He asks in a gravelled tone, continuing to stroke your skin with small movements. His touch was far different from Reds, you quickly realized. Red touched you briskly, his hand roaming over your body as if you would disappear.
Poe touched you with reverence. He kept his movements small, keeping contact with your skin as if you were his center of gravity. “He's an idiot, Blue, you can do so much better than him. He can't even coordinate a landing path to Jakku without using a droid.” A surprised laugh tumbles past your lips, pleasing Poe as he stares down at you.
“And you can't fly a straight shot to Crait even if you tried.” You shoot back, a smile still tugging at your lips. Poe’s eyes soften as you laugh before him, your usual icy exterior melting away to that young pilot he once knew so many years ago. He takes a breath, biting his lip before he speaks in a soft whisper. “I would have made you my second, if it was my choice.”
You can't control the deep flush that rush to your cheeks as you hear him. “Red is a good second in command, I still have a lot to learn-”
“You think I don't know who drafts our tactile formations? I could practically see you solving the broken flight patterns while reading them.” His voice grows more firm, demanding you to accept his praise. “I can only be a good leader with someone like you supporting me, and I'm sorry they don't realize it yet.”
You don't cry. You don’t even cry as Poe leans in closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek as he coos words of praise to you in the dimly lit hallway. Red never acknowledged the work you did, smooth talking his way into putting his name on the plans alongside yours. You would shrug it off, under the impression if one Squadron succeeds surely the other would too. This never changed even when he began to take more missions farther out into the galaxy, while you and your squad stayed back, waiting for the chance to chart your own paths.
The truth now laid out so plainly in front of you.
You had been used.
What did you want? Had you wanted Red to choose you? Only you? Did you ever even think you would have options?
Your hands tighten into fists, sharp pain shooting through your hands. Poe pulls back with a lazy smile on his face, but it quickly falters as he sees the scowl etched onto your face. “Hey what's wrong Blue, did I overstep? I’m sorry-”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Poe's mouth hangs open as your words hit his ears, sending palpitations straight to his chest. “You want me to…”
“I want you to fuck me, yes.”
Poe can't help but chuckle as he shakes his head, his hand covering his face as he inhales deeply. “You don't want that, Blue, you're just mad and understandably so-”
“I am choosing this, Poe Dameron, I am choosing you to make me feel something. I know it's just a one time thing with you, I want one night”
Well, now this was an interesting statement.
This he could work with.
Poe tries to quell the smile tugging at his lips as he leans back, knocking his fingers on the cool metal wall as if it could cool down the heat racing through him. “Just one? I'm afraid you'll end up wanting more, Blue.” He murmurs, taking the chance to glance back down at you. Your eyes meet his, fiery and unwavering. Maker, you meant it. Poe tried to stifle the groan threatening to spill out of him.
“One night, I just want one night.” You promise, stepping in even closer to him. With one deep breath, your chest would rub against his, and you tried to ignore the shaky breaths emitting from the man before you.
“But I want to set some ground rules first.” You say in a soft voice, moving your hand so it begins to trail up his arm. Poe can only nod as he stared down at you, captivated by your movements.
“This happens in your room, I don't need you making a mess of my space.” Poe can't help the snort that leaves his mouth, but he nods his head anyways. “Two, I want to be in charge.” You were proud of how little your voice wavered as you spoke, “I get to decide how this goes.”
Your words make Poe's jaw twitch. How often did you get what you wanted with Red?
“I promise I will be your devoted servant.” He agrees, reaching for your hand and pulling it to his lips, placing a slow and sensual kiss on your pulse.
Maker, this was going to be harder than you thought.
“This is a one time thing, we don’t acknowledge it after, and we dont let it change our working relationship.”
Poe's throat only constricts a little before he nods, “Of course.” He drops your hand gently, waiting for you.
Now Poes stares at you with a burning look in his gaze, his jaw clenched as he stares between you and Red One.
“Distracted? Blue, you could have hurt yourself.” He hisses, running a hand through his hair in an irritated manner. You frown, noticing the crowd gathering around you all now.
“It was a mistake, a stupid one, but I’m fine-”
“Maybe if you weren't so busy sleeping with our Squad leader you wouldn't have messed up.” The insult stabs through your chest. You turn slowly to face Red One, a grim look on his face as he sighs before continuing, “I really thought you were smarter than this Blue, you really couldn't wait for me to explain what happened before you just moved on to the next available guy who would fuck you-”
You honestly aren't sure who moved first. One minute your hearing began to ring, your heart thundering in your chest, and then here you were, standing over a bleeding Red. Your fist felt like it was on fire but honestly, you didn't care. Then you feel Poe’s arms wrap around your waist, tugging you back as people begin to shout, surging in to watch the scene.
“All those years I spent underneath you were absolute shit compared to what Poe’s made me feel in one month-” You spit out, years of rage boiling over as you watch Red sit up, his hand shakily touching the blood pouring out of his nose. “And I hope you can prove you know how to draft a mission plan because I’m going first thing tomorrow to get your name removed from all of my work, my work.” You seeth, tugging against Poe's grip one last time. You can feel his face near yours, his nose gently running along your cheek as he squeezes your arms gently. “Let's get out of here, Blue.” He whispers, and you nod, giving Red one last glare before moving through the parting crowd. You swear you can almost hear cheers as you and Poe enter the flight squads quarters, shutting yourself off from the rest of the world.
You feel yourself enter a room, and you finally feel the world unblurring as you realize Poe brought you back to your own quarters. You can feel him gently pull at your clothes, removing your flight suit with great care, reaching into your drawers to find some comfortable clothes he slips onto your body without an ounce of alternative means. A sudden hiss leaves your lips as he bumps his hand against your injured one, and he quickly moves you to your bed. He curses before you, kneeling between your legs as he tentatively grabs your hand, assessing the broken skin on your knuckles.
“Shit baby, you got him good.” He smiles, taking a clean rage and gently dabbing at the bloodied wounds. You wince and he immediately pulls back, waiting for you to let him continue.
“I shouldn't have hit him,” you mumble, biting your lip as he hits another painful spot, “I’ll probably get written up.”
Poe snorts, shaking his head. “I dont it won't be any worse than what he's gonna get. Plagiarizing plans? Falsifying records? He's lucky if the general even lets him get drinks for us.” You can't help the laugh that tumbles out of your throat, nodding along to his words. He quickly wraps your hand in a simple bandage, just tight enough to keep your hand from throbbing. You meet Poe’s gaze as he looks up at you, crouched between your legs with a serene look on his face.
“What?” you ask softly, gripping your sheets with your other hand. Poe just shakes his head, “So, I've given you a better month than he could in years?”
You groan as you drop your head to his shoulder, embarrassment flooding your senses. “I didn't mean to say that in front of everyone.” Poe just laughs, letting his hands run up and along your thighs.
“It was pretty hot to see you claim me in front of everyone like that, baby.” He smiles, gently using his hands to lift your face so he can look at you. You flush brightly, your eyes unable to look anywhere else but his gaze. “Im sorry, I'm sure that was uncomfortable for you-”
Poe shakes his head, his nose brushing along yours. “You still don't get it, huh?” Before you can speak again he pushes the two of you up and back, laying you down onto your bed as he hovers over you. “I want to be yours, Blue, I think in some way I always have been.” He says softly, intertwining your hands together as he presses them beside your head. “I've slept with people, yes, but none could get you off my mind.” His lips gently trail down your neck, biting and kissing at your skin. You gasp, your body reacting so easily for him. “You were always there, since flight school, in my mind, always competing with me. Then I leave, and I come back to tell you-” He carefully slips his hand under the edge of your shirt, feeling your skin with a gentle touch.
As if he can't believe this is still happening.
“I come back and see you look at him like that, and I would have supported you baby I would have, but-” He hisses as your body arches against him, brushing together as heat begins to flood your body. “Lucky for me he was an idiot.” Is all Poe can say as you crash your lips to his, gripping his jaw tightly as you angle him in closer to deepen the kiss. “Fuck, I can only ever think about you Blue-” He gasps as your hand trails in between you, running your fingers along the seams of his length. “I only want to think about you, I want to be yours forever-” He rambles on, your hand moving rhythmically against him as you listen to him beg. His words fill your chest as he speaks, so plainly yet undoubtedly true.
“Poe?” You say softly, watching as his eyes open to find yours, dark and glazed over with lust, but his attention undivided. You smile softly, only slowing your movements ever so slightly as you take a breath to speak. “I'm yours.” You whisper softly, your smile widening as you see his eyes begin to water. You gasp as you tugged up, pressed against his chest as he buries his face into your neck, holding you impossibly tight.
“Fuck, Blue, I almost didn’t last when I heard you say that.” Poe grumbles, and you laugh loudly as your hands pull his hips to yours.
“We're just getting started, Dameron, I can't have you tapping out so early.” You grin, letting your hands snake up the bros expanse of his back to caress his head. An idea strikes you as you hold on to one another, your hands running along the carved muscles of his body.
“Poe?” You ask softly, turning your head to look at him as he pulls back slightly from your neck. “Can we try something?”
His smile is lethal.
“How do you want me, baby?”
You carefully pull back from his embrace, eyeing him playfully as you turn onto your hands and knees, movings towards the headboard with a sway to your hips, Poe’s eyes practically glow with desire, and you feel his hand run along your spine, gripping your hips dangerously before you grab onto the headboard, arching yourself against him. You can feel his chest contracting behind you, his hands moving to your hips instinctively. You loved this, feeling so crowded by his body and scent.
Poe wasted no time in shucking down your pants, tilting your head to meet his lips in a fiery kiss as the cool air of your room blows against your exposed lower body. You reach a hand behind you, finding the edge to his pants and working to pull them down, releasing his cock between the both of you.
With a practiced precision, Poe sheathes himself into you, a satisfied gasp leaving your lips. You can already feel the headboard creaking under your grasp, but you don't care.
“Shit, baby, I'm not gonna last long-” He pants, kissing your neck while giving you another small thrust. He leaves one hand on your waist as the other snakes to your slick folds, teasing you gently as you let out another moan. “I don’t care, just fuck me Poe, please-” You whine out, pushing yourself against him with need. You gasp as you feel a sharp slap to your clit, only making you infinitely wetter.
“I’m going to take my time fucking my girl.” He growls, and pulls you in for another thrust. Your face turns towards the board, hot pants of air escaping you as he thrust into you from below, perfectly hitting that spot within you that makes your toes curl with pleasure. He leans forward, wrapping a hand over yours as he fucks you into the headboard, his other hand tightening on your hip as he slams into you.
“My beautiful girl, so wet for me. Do you like making me so hungry for you? Driving me wild seeing you so lost in pleasure? Absolutely drenching my cock?” His words almost send you over the edge alone, only capable of giving him a choked sob in reply.
He fucks into you mercilessly, grinding himself against you with every thrust, his own orgasm approaching as quickly as yours. “Fuck, baby, you were made for me, never gonna let you go-” You feel him shake as he begins to unload into you, his hand rubbing tirelessly over your clit and quickly sending you over the edge into your own pleasure.
“Fuck!” You cry out, shaking as he continues to thrust into you, emptying himself entirely. The room is filled with pants as you both lean against each other, your hands trembling as you use the headboard to hold yourself up. You feel so impossibly full. You shift gently, feeling his body tense behind you as his head rests in the crook of your neck.
“Still with me, Dameron?” You smile, turning your head to gently press a kiss to his temple. You can feel him smile against your skin, placing his own soft kiss on your shoulder. “Always, baby.” He whispers back softly, lifting his head to gaze at you with pure adoration. You eventually separate, slinking down into your bed wrapped in each other's embrace. Any other clothes were shed, the need for urgency long behind you both as you tak in these moments of being utterly at peace.
You rest your head on his chest, your eyes drifting close as you listen to the steady beat of his heart. “Poe?” you ask softly, running your hand along his sternum. You can feel him shift, knowing he was looking down at you.
“Yeah, sweet girl?” He asks gently, running a hand through your hair and you swear you are in heaven.
“When did you realize you liked me? You…we, we’ve just been together for so long and I never realized.” You ask, turning your head up to look at him easier. Poe smiles, so easy and carefree, and just shrugs.
“Maybe always?”
You swat at his chest, a chuckle rumbling in him as he grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to your pulse. “Be serious!” You scold, but the smile on your face tells him all he needs to know.
“I am serious. It was always you.”
Your smile only grows softer as you listen to him, your hand continuing to rub small circles onto his skin. “I’m sorry I took so long to realize it.” You whisper to him, reaching up to rub his jaw. Poe grins and moves over you, flipping you both until he rests on top of you. He surges forward, kissing you as if you had all the time in this world. You both stay close, his nose brushing against yours as you gaze into each other's eyes. Poe speaks, whispering into your ear, and you know he means it.
“I would have waited forever for you”
sparring 2/2
This was my first time writing a Poe x reader and I’m so happy you were able to enjoy it! Thank you for reading!!!
Maybe I’m too busy being yours, to fall for someone new.
Poe Dameron x f!reader
Rated M- 5.7k
Divider by @/saradika
tags: 18+ ONLY MDNI, use of nickname "Blue" for reader, strong language, physical fight (not with MMC), cheating (not by MMC or FMC), rival pilots, unprotected piv, cream pie, praise kink, yearning Poe, ass smacking, hair pulling, we love a reader in charge!
Authors Note: Hello! As I was writing this story, "We could be together, if you wanted to" has gained some traction, so thank you all for liking my work! This idea of a yearning and pining Poe hit me, so I had to make it happen. For context, in this story there are three squadrons with order importance, Black squad, Red Squadron and Blue Squadron. Black and Red squad work on high importance missions and are ranked 'higher' than Blue Squad, which leads you, dear reader, to the story! I hope you enjoy "Crawlin back to you" as it is spicier than the others, and I hope to update "On the run (with you)" soon! As usual, I haven't reread this, I just post and hope for the best. I hope you enjoy!
Thank you!
It was only meant to be a one time thing.
A one time thing a month ago.
You gasp as Poe’s lips attach to yours with fervor, his tongue sliding parting your lips as his hands roam underneath your long sleeve. Your legs wrap around his waist tightly, making it oh so easy to arch yourself against the growing hardness in his pants as presses you harder into the wall of his room.
Allegedly, Poe Dameron never spent the night more than once with a lover.
This was the third time this week you've met.
He pulls back, gasping for air before his lips attach to your neck, licking and sucking that sweet spot below your ear so harshly you almost came on the spot.
“Poe, wait-”
He pulls back immediately, his lust darkened eyes meeting yours eagerly. “What is it, baby?” He hums, rubbing his thumbs on the soft skin of your thighs as he waits for, honestly, anything you want.
You smile, shaking your head as your hands thread through the soft curls on his head. This was a dangerous game, you realized. He was someone you couldn't have, no matter how addictive he was.
“I have a flight maneuver early tomorrow, I should head back to my room.” You reply back, letting your fingers drift towards the hot skin of his neck one final team before lowering them to his chest, patting it gently. His hands gave you one last squeeze before he lowered you to the floor, taking a few seconds to pull your shirt down to where it normally sat.
He was sweet.
It was dangerous.
Poe smiles softly, almost bashfully, “Wouldn't want you to miss out on sleep.” He agrees, but his hand still lingers on your waist. One word and you could have another night of pleasure.
You nod, gently stepping away from him and gathering your pants from off the floor, quickly stepping into them as you move around his room to collect your few belongings. “I promise I didn't come here just for this, I swear I had an actual question-” You begin to ramble, suddenly feeling the need to explain yourself, why you showed up so late.
Maker, you have never acted like this before.
Poe shakes his head, moving to sit on his bed as he watches you move through his space. “It’s fine, I’m always glad to be of service to you.” He grins good naturedly, not a trace of sarcasm escaping him. You pause in front of him, mouth opening to say anything to relieve this tension between you both.
You come up empty.
“Well, I’ll see you tomorrow then.” You say softly, giving him a small wave, as if this man were just some regular pilot and not the man who gave you back to back orgasms just the night before. Poe chuckles softly, his head dropping forward before he begins to stand up, joining your side as you both move towards the door.
“Sure, Blue.” He responds softly, and you can feel his hand lingering on the small of your back as you step out of his room, the sensation burning into your skin as his touch so often did. You turn around to face him, to try and explain the visit again, but his eyes are already locked onto yours and stealing any words you could have formed from your mouth. The air between you was thick, electricity striking your body with every noise coming from around you in the living quarters. Poe bites his lip as he raises a hand to your face as if to cup your cheek, the motion so quick you barely had time to close your eyes before a small flick hits the end of your noise.
You let out a shocked gasp as he laughs.“Be safe tomorrow, okay? Don't do anything stupid like you usually do when you get stressed.” The bedroom door slides to a close before your eyes even open again. A huff of irritation leaves your lips at his childishness, but you can't help the smile on your face as you take the long walk back to your own quarters. Even within your living space, there was no tie to the man. His room is filled with posters and plans strewn about his floors. The thick smell of cologne that almost seemed to hover like its own atmosphere. His room was so like him, warm, well lived, and well loved. Your room was bare boned. A bed and desk. Stacks of files for missions and maps coordinating future attacks organized by dates on your dining table. Straightlaced and to the point. This was who you both were. Two entities that orbited around one another but never should have met.
This was how it should have stayed.
The admired Black Squadron leader.
The calculated Blue Squadron leader.
The Blue Squadron was only a few achievements short of being on equal par with your fellow Squadrons. Poe and the Black Squadron were the primary team for any rebellion led missions, Red following as second in command. Today was your first chance of the year to prove to the general your squad was more than capable of handling complex missions, to be given the same opportunities as the Black and Red Squadrons. Your team was ready, you had been practicing for months now, and you felt it was now or never to prove to the rebellion what an asset Blue Squadron is.
And you blew it.
It was a standard attack formation, one you had prepped for so many times before. One you could do in your sleep. Your fingers moved robotically as you adjusted your coordinates, your team flying perfectly behind you. Your hand skims over the edge of the tiller, and before you realize it, your mind is drawn back into a memory of the other night.
Poe lying beneath you, his chest heaving as he bites his knuckles, your hand squeezing at his length with nervousness as you tried to sink yourself down onto him. “You couldnt mess this up if you tried, baby.” He had said to you, his hand resting on the back of your neck as you moved hesitantly against him.
“I don't know, he didn't think I was good at this-” Your words are cut off as his lips sear into yours, his hand threading through your hair to crush your face to his. Your muffled gasp is replaced by a small moan as he sheaths himself into you, already hitting that sweet spot with ease.
“I dont give a fuck what he thought, youre perfect, Blue.” He had hissed, bucking his hips up harshly to draw out another whimper from you.”Say it.” Poe demands, gripping your hips as he plows into you from below, your hands holding onto his shoulders tightly as you nod.
“I’m perfect,” You whisper, trying to muffle your cries against his neck as the sound of your skin connecting reverberated through his quarters. Poe moans in encouragement and you have the desire to bottle up that sound for yourself.
“Fuck yes, y-your perfect baby, so perfect for me-” He gasps, his thrusts becoming sloppy as his breath begins to come out in shorter spurts. Poe leans forward, pressing hot kisses along your chest, biting into the soft flesh of your breasts. You cry out louder, your climax nearing at a rapid pace as he pounds into you.
“P-Poe, please-”
“Please what baby, where do you want me?”
Another thrust has your vision darkening, a buzz sounding in your ear as he fucks into you harder. It was stupid. This wasn't meant to happen again. Not after the first time. But you were always a sucker for complexities. You brush your lips against his jaw, kissing messily along his skin before whispering into his ear.
“I want you to finish in me, I want you to be the first.”
If Poe wasn't gone before, he was now. His thrusts grew harsher, his fingers bruising your hips as he slams into you, mumbling incoherently. “Fuck, you want me to cum in you so bad, my perfect girl-” He groans, moving one of his hands to your slick folds to rub hard and fast against you. A sharp scream leaves your throat and you topple against his chest, your body pulsing around him tightly as you reach your orgasm. You can feel the last few thrusts before hot spurts coat your insides, Poe whimpering as his head falls against your shoulder, his back heaving as he tries to catch his breath. You tilt your head back. Your eyes glazed over with satisfaction as you both ride out your high together. You let out a little laugh and his hand quickly smacks your ass, Poe’s muffled voice coming from below you.
“I’m sensitive, you sadist.” He growls, and now you can't help the tumble of laughter pouring out from you. Poe lifted his head to glare up at you, but in that moment, your smile was so bright he couldn't help but chuckle along with you.
You shake the memory from your head, your squadron already approaching the final bend sooner than you anticipated.
“Focus, Blue, focus.” You whisper to yourself, watching your squad carefully as you begin your turn. It was sharp, but even a rookie could get through this, and you soar through it with ease. Next was more difficult, but you had practiced, you knew the formation like the back of your hand by now. You carefully lock your X-wing in, breathing out slowly as you wait for the harsher turn. The mind was always so fickle, that's why you preferred equations and plans. You could feel yourself slipping back into that same memory, a heat pooling in your lower belly. Then you hear that maker's damned voice once more.
“One more baby, give me one more.-”
“My sweet girl, taking me so perfectly-”
“I could stay in you forever-”
A hard jolt shoved you deeper into your seat, your X-wing began losing altitude. Your squad's voices blaring through your comms, overwhelming your mind as you tried to straighten your ship.
“Squad leader-”
“You’ve been hit!”
“Land now-”
And as if your ego couldn't take enough of it, that same voice from your mind rings out, but this time unfortunately through your headset like the others.
“What the hell are you doing, Blue?!”
Your teeth grind together as you pull yourself back into place, barely registering the sound of the flight tower calling your squadron back to base. Everyone was down there. Everyone had seen.
Cold sweat began to drip down your neck as you carefully took the time to land your X-wing, mechanics quickly running over to assess the damage to the outside exterior. You huff as you climb down the ladder, shaking your hair out of your hemet and relishing in the open air as you struggle to take deep breaths. You can hear your crew clambering to get to you, and you can hear their questions already.
What happened?
What happened?
What happened?
“Blue, what happened?”
Your eyes snap up to meet those soft brown ones you had come to know so well. Poe was gripping your shoulders tightly, his fingers digging into you whether he noticed or not. Your relief at seeing him was short lived as you remembered just why you crashed.
“I’m fine, Dameron.” You snap, shaking his hands off of you. Poe looks at you first with worry, then agitation.
“Obviously you're not fine, Blue. You could do this course in your sleep and you crashed!” He hisses, clenching his hands at his side. You frown, and begin to respond before another set of hands grip your shoulder. You only needed one look at Poe's glowering face to know who it was. One you had done so well at avoiding until now.
Red One.
Poe's second in command.
“Hey, what happened up there? You okay?” He asks quickly, his eyes raking over your appearance.You force a smile, brushing him off with ease.
“Honest mistake, I was-” Your eyes flickered to Poes before returning to the helmet in your hand, “I was just distracted was all.”
Red One was born on a planet near yours, the commonality making you both acquaintances in flight school. You both studied vigorously, and desired high marks, yet somehow both of you were always beaten by the one named Poe Dameron. The three of you grew and eventually joined the rebellion, him and Dameron taking over the Black and Red Squadron while you were assigned Blue. Despite the large amount of rebellion members, it was easy for you to drift back to him, the reassurance of something familiar in your life. While Poe was off gallivanting with his squadron across the galaxy, you both worked together on unit tactics. It wasn't long before you both began to reach for one another, quick meaningless acts of pleasure when it was needed. It was easy for it to mean nothing to you, because you both knew this wasn't forever, but at least you had one another.
It worked then.
Until Poe came around again.
Poe was always smart, but he was also warm, and charismatic. People were drawn to him like the sun, wanting a chance to feel that splendor for themselves. Despite the fact everyone wanted to be around him, after a recent 5 month journey he had decided to follow only you around aimlessly.
“Dameron, don't you have someone else to bother?” You muttered, clutching new plans from the general tightly to your chest. Poe walked behind you with a grin, his hands carelessly tucked into his jacket pockets as he kept up with you.
“When was it a rule that I couldn't spend time with a fellow squadron leader?” He retorts, gently nudging your shoulder with his own. You let out an exhausted sigh, rounding the hallway corner into the row of living quarters right before yours. Maybe you thought you could evade him, you weren't sure, but what you didn't expect was the door nearest you to slide open with a smooth hiss, giving you a clear look into the room. You stop so abruptly Poe barely had time to avoid colliding with your back.
“What the fuck, Blue-” He complains before glancing down to your face. Your eyes stared blankly into the room, one you had become very familiar with over the years.
Red One’s, now occupied by the pilot himself and a mechanic you recognized from the Droid depot, clothes littering the floor as they cling to each other near the door. Red One's eyes widen and he curses, fumbling around to slip back into his flight suit.
Now normally, Poe would make a sly comment, or laugh off the awkwardness with ease. But he couldn't. Not when he saw the expression you were making. Despite his games and jokes, he knew you well. Poes fist tightened as he stalked into the room, shoving Red One back a step. “Now, why the fuck would you do this?” He growls darkly, his brown eyes darkening with rage. You weren't sure if you have ever seen Poe like this, not even after a failed mission. Poe never resorted to violence. Never.
You move quickly, stumbling forward to grab onto his arm, tugging him back. “It's fine Poe, it's not that serious-”
“Not that serious? He had the best damn pilot in the rebellion and it wasn't serious to him?” His words make you pause, heat rushing to your cheeks as you tighten your hand on Poe's arm, giving him one last tug.
“Blue, I can explain-”
“It's fine Red, we're going now.” You respond calmly, carefully dragging Poe out of the room until the door can slide shut. Poe tugs you along swiftly moving down hall after hall until you recognize the path to your own living space. Your hand was still on Poe’s arm, and you could feel his body shaking underneath.
“Poe, it’s fine-”
“How long were you two together?” He asks, his tone softer now than it was previously. You glanced up at him, his brown eyes soft once more as they bore down into your own. You blink quickly, thinking of just how many months it had been.
“Since our first mission to Nevarro.” You answer honestly, and you don't know what to think about the string of curses that leave his lips. “Why does it matter, Poe? It was just a fling-”
“Was it just a fling to you?” He asks suddenly, his gaze hot and piercing. You try to answer, to conjure up some response, but all you can do is shake your head. “We both got what he wanted, and I'm actually surprised he waited this long to find someone else.”
The look of anger that flashes across his face has your brows furrowing, unsure of why it bothered him so deeply. You open your mouth to speak again before Poe lets out a deep sigh, turning to face you fully as his back rests against the metal wall. His hand reaches up slowly, gently touching the soft skin of your cheek.
“Still, are you okay?” He asks in a gravelled tone, continuing to stroke your skin with small movements. His touch was far different from Reds, you quickly realized. Red touched you briskly, his hand roaming over your body as if you would disappear.
Poe touched you with reverence. He kept his movements small, keeping contact with your skin as if you were his center of gravity. “He's an idiot, Blue, you can do so much better than him. He can't even coordinate a landing path to Jakku without using a droid.” A surprised laugh tumbles past your lips, pleasing Poe as he stares down at you.
“And you can't fly a straight shot to Crait even if you tried.” You shoot back, a smile still tugging at your lips. Poe’s eyes soften as you laugh before him, your usual icy exterior melting away to that young pilot he once knew so many years ago. He takes a breath, biting his lip before he speaks in a soft whisper. “I would have made you my second, if it was my choice.”
You can't control the deep flush that rush to your cheeks as you hear him. “Red is a good second in command, I still have a lot to learn-”
“You think I don't know who drafts our tactile formations? I could practically see you solving the broken flight patterns while reading them.” His voice grows more firm, demanding you to accept his praise. “I can only be a good leader with someone like you supporting me, and I'm sorry they don't realize it yet.”
You don't cry. You don’t even cry as Poe leans in closer to you, his hand cupping your cheek as he coos words of praise to you in the dimly lit hallway. Red never acknowledged the work you did, smooth talking his way into putting his name on the plans alongside yours. You would shrug it off, under the impression if one Squadron succeeds surely the other would too. This never changed even when he began to take more missions farther out into the galaxy, while you and your squad stayed back, waiting for the chance to chart your own paths.
The truth now laid out so plainly in front of you.
You had been used.
What did you want? Had you wanted Red to choose you? Only you? Did you ever even think you would have options?
Your hands tighten into fists, sharp pain shooting through your hands. Poe pulls back with a lazy smile on his face, but it quickly falters as he sees the scowl etched onto your face. “Hey what's wrong Blue, did I overstep? I’m sorry-”
“I want you to fuck me.”
Poe's mouth hangs open as your words hit his ears, sending palpitations straight to his chest. “You want me to…”
“I want you to fuck me, yes.”
Poe can't help but chuckle as he shakes his head, his hand covering his face as he inhales deeply. “You don't want that, Blue, you're just mad and understandably so-”
“I am choosing this, Poe Dameron, I am choosing you to make me feel something. I know it's just a one time thing with you, I want one night”
Well, now this was an interesting statement.
This he could work with.
Poe tries to quell the smile tugging at his lips as he leans back, knocking his fingers on the cool metal wall as if it could cool down the heat racing through him. “Just one? I'm afraid you'll end up wanting more, Blue.” He murmurs, taking the chance to glance back down at you. Your eyes meet his, fiery and unwavering. Maker, you meant it. Poe tried to stifle the groan threatening to spill out of him.
“One night, I just want one night.” You promise, stepping in even closer to him. With one deep breath, your chest would rub against his, and you tried to ignore the shaky breaths emitting from the man before you.
“But I want to set some ground rules first.” You say in a soft voice, moving your hand so it begins to trail up his arm. Poe can only nod as he stared down at you, captivated by your movements.
“This happens in your room, I don't need you making a mess of my space.” Poe can't help the snort that leaves his mouth, but he nods his head anyways. “Two, I want to be in charge.” You were proud of how little your voice wavered as you spoke, “I get to decide how this goes.”
Your words make Poe's jaw twitch. How often did you get what you wanted with Red?
“I promise I will be your devoted servant.” He agrees, reaching for your hand and pulling it to his lips, placing a slow and sensual kiss on your pulse.
Maker, this was going to be harder than you thought.
“This is a one time thing, we don’t acknowledge it after, and we dont let it change our working relationship.”
Poe's throat only constricts a little before he nods, “Of course.” He drops your hand gently, waiting for you.
Now Poes stares at you with a burning look in his gaze, his jaw clenched as he stares between you and Red One.
“Distracted? Blue, you could have hurt yourself.” He hisses, running a hand through his hair in an irritated manner. You frown, noticing the crowd gathering around you all now.
“It was a mistake, a stupid one, but I’m fine-”
“Maybe if you weren't so busy sleeping with our Squad leader you wouldn't have messed up.” The insult stabs through your chest. You turn slowly to face Red One, a grim look on his face as he sighs before continuing, “I really thought you were smarter than this Blue, you really couldn't wait for me to explain what happened before you just moved on to the next available guy who would fuck you-”
You honestly aren't sure who moved first. One minute your hearing began to ring, your heart thundering in your chest, and then here you were, standing over a bleeding Red. Your fist felt like it was on fire but honestly, you didn't care. Then you feel Poe’s arms wrap around your waist, tugging you back as people begin to shout, surging in to watch the scene.
“All those years I spent underneath you were absolute shit compared to what Poe’s made me feel in one month-” You spit out, years of rage boiling over as you watch Red sit up, his hand shakily touching the blood pouring out of his nose. “And I hope you can prove you know how to draft a mission plan because I’m going first thing tomorrow to get your name removed from all of my work, my work.” You seeth, tugging against Poe's grip one last time. You can feel his face near yours, his nose gently running along your cheek as he squeezes your arms gently. “Let's get out of here, Blue.” He whispers, and you nod, giving Red one last glare before moving through the parting crowd. You swear you can almost hear cheers as you and Poe enter the flight squads quarters, shutting yourself off from the rest of the world.
You feel yourself enter a room, and you finally feel the world unblurring as you realize Poe brought you back to your own quarters. You can feel him gently pull at your clothes, removing your flight suit with great care, reaching into your drawers to find some comfortable clothes he slips onto your body without an ounce of alternative means. A sudden hiss leaves your lips as he bumps his hand against your injured one, and he quickly moves you to your bed. He curses before you, kneeling between your legs as he tentatively grabs your hand, assessing the broken skin on your knuckles.
“Shit baby, you got him good.” He smiles, taking a clean rage and gently dabbing at the bloodied wounds. You wince and he immediately pulls back, waiting for you to let him continue.
“I shouldn't have hit him,” you mumble, biting your lip as he hits another painful spot, “I’ll probably get written up.”
Poe snorts, shaking his head. “I dont it won't be any worse than what he's gonna get. Plagiarizing plans? Falsifying records? He's lucky if the general even lets him get drinks for us.” You can't help the laugh that tumbles out of your throat, nodding along to his words. He quickly wraps your hand in a simple bandage, just tight enough to keep your hand from throbbing. You meet Poe’s gaze as he looks up at you, crouched between your legs with a serene look on his face.
“What?” you ask softly, gripping your sheets with your other hand. Poe just shakes his head, “So, I've given you a better month than he could in years?”
You groan as you drop your head to his shoulder, embarrassment flooding your senses. “I didn't mean to say that in front of everyone.” Poe just laughs, letting his hands run up and along your thighs.
“It was pretty hot to see you claim me in front of everyone like that, baby.” He smiles, gently using his hands to lift your face so he can look at you. You flush brightly, your eyes unable to look anywhere else but his gaze. “Im sorry, I'm sure that was uncomfortable for you-”
Poe shakes his head, his nose brushing along yours. “You still don't get it, huh?” Before you can speak again he pushes the two of you up and back, laying you down onto your bed as he hovers over you. “I want to be yours, Blue, I think in some way I always have been.” He says softly, intertwining your hands together as he presses them beside your head. “I've slept with people, yes, but none could get you off my mind.” His lips gently trail down your neck, biting and kissing at your skin. You gasp, your body reacting so easily for him. “You were always there, since flight school, in my mind, always competing with me. Then I leave, and I come back to tell you-” He carefully slips his hand under the edge of your shirt, feeling your skin with a gentle touch.
As if he can't believe this is still happening.
“I come back and see you look at him like that, and I would have supported you baby I would have, but-” He hisses as your body arches against him, brushing together as heat begins to flood your body. “Lucky for me he was an idiot.” Is all Poe can say as you crash your lips to his, gripping his jaw tightly as you angle him in closer to deepen the kiss. “Fuck, I can only ever think about you Blue-” He gasps as your hand trails in between you, running your fingers along the seams of his length. “I only want to think about you, I want to be yours forever-” He rambles on, your hand moving rhythmically against him as you listen to him beg. His words fill your chest as he speaks, so plainly yet undoubtedly true.
“Poe?” You say softly, watching as his eyes open to find yours, dark and glazed over with lust, but his attention undivided. You smile softly, only slowing your movements ever so slightly as you take a breath to speak. “I'm yours.” You whisper softly, your smile widening as you see his eyes begin to water. You gasp as you tugged up, pressed against his chest as he buries his face into your neck, holding you impossibly tight.
“Fuck, Blue, I almost didn’t last when I heard you say that.” Poe grumbles, and you laugh loudly as your hands pull his hips to yours.
“We're just getting started, Dameron, I can't have you tapping out so early.” You grin, letting your hands snake up the bros expanse of his back to caress his head. An idea strikes you as you hold on to one another, your hands running along the carved muscles of his body.
“Poe?” You ask softly, turning your head to look at him as he pulls back slightly from your neck. “Can we try something?”
His smile is lethal.
“How do you want me, baby?”
You carefully pull back from his embrace, eyeing him playfully as you turn onto your hands and knees, movings towards the headboard with a sway to your hips, Poe’s eyes practically glow with desire, and you feel his hand run along your spine, gripping your hips dangerously before you grab onto the headboard, arching yourself against him. You can feel his chest contracting behind you, his hands moving to your hips instinctively. You loved this, feeling so crowded by his body and scent.
Poe wasted no time in shucking down your pants, tilting your head to meet his lips in a fiery kiss as the cool air of your room blows against your exposed lower body. You reach a hand behind you, finding the edge to his pants and working to pull them down, releasing his cock between the both of you.
With a practiced precision, Poe sheathes himself into you, a satisfied gasp leaving your lips. You can already feel the headboard creaking under your grasp, but you don't care.
“Shit, baby, I'm not gonna last long-” He pants, kissing your neck while giving you another small thrust. He leaves one hand on your waist as the other snakes to your slick folds, teasing you gently as you let out another moan. “I don’t care, just fuck me Poe, please-” You whine out, pushing yourself against him with need. You gasp as you feel a sharp slap to your clit, only making you infinitely wetter.
“I’m going to take my time fucking my girl.” He growls, and pulls you in for another thrust. Your face turns towards the board, hot pants of air escaping you as he thrust into you from below, perfectly hitting that spot within you that makes your toes curl with pleasure. He leans forward, wrapping a hand over yours as he fucks you into the headboard, his other hand tightening on your hip as he slams into you.
“My beautiful girl, so wet for me. Do you like making me so hungry for you? Driving me wild seeing you so lost in pleasure? Absolutely drenching my cock?” His words almost send you over the edge alone, only capable of giving him a choked sob in reply.
He fucks into you mercilessly, grinding himself against you with every thrust, his own orgasm approaching as quickly as yours. “Fuck, baby, you were made for me, never gonna let you go-” You feel him shake as he begins to unload into you, his hand rubbing tirelessly over your clit and quickly sending you over the edge into your own pleasure.
“Fuck!” You cry out, shaking as he continues to thrust into you, emptying himself entirely. The room is filled with pants as you both lean against each other, your hands trembling as you use the headboard to hold yourself up. You feel so impossibly full. You shift gently, feeling his body tense behind you as his head rests in the crook of your neck.
“Still with me, Dameron?” You smile, turning your head to gently press a kiss to his temple. You can feel him smile against your skin, placing his own soft kiss on your shoulder. “Always, baby.” He whispers back softly, lifting his head to gaze at you with pure adoration. You eventually separate, slinking down into your bed wrapped in each other's embrace. Any other clothes were shed, the need for urgency long behind you both as you tak in these moments of being utterly at peace.
You rest your head on his chest, your eyes drifting close as you listen to the steady beat of his heart. “Poe?” you ask softly, running your hand along his sternum. You can feel him shift, knowing he was looking down at you.
“Yeah, sweet girl?” He asks gently, running a hand through your hair and you swear you are in heaven.
“When did you realize you liked me? You…we, we’ve just been together for so long and I never realized.” You ask, turning your head up to look at him easier. Poe smiles, so easy and carefree, and just shrugs.
“Maybe always?”
You swat at his chest, a chuckle rumbling in him as he grabs your hand, pressing a kiss to your pulse. “Be serious!” You scold, but the smile on your face tells him all he needs to know.
“I am serious. It was always you.”
Your smile only grows softer as you listen to him, your hand continuing to rub small circles onto his skin. “I’m sorry I took so long to realize it.” You whisper to him, reaching up to rub his jaw. Poe grins and moves over you, flipping you both until he rests on top of you. He surges forward, kissing you as if you had all the time in this world. You both stay close, his nose brushing against yours as you gaze into each other's eyes. Poe speaks, whispering into your ear, and you know he means it.
“I would have waited forever for you”
Surprise.
— love language
chapter summary: You and Matt are now dating, but you haven't told anyone. How long will it take your friends to notice?
word count: 3.4k+
pairing: Matt Murdock x fem!reader
notes: i had this idea after writing goodnight n go (which is technically the first part, but you don't need to read it to understand this). anyways, here's a bunch of fluff
warnings/tags: after endgame but date is not specified, best friends to lovers, reader works at stark industries, matt is a cocky little shit, making out
Things moved on normally, the only thing that had changed in the past month was that you two weren’t just friends but dating.
You didn’t realize it, but you were already quite close to Matt.
Matt chuckled, his arm hooked around yours as the two of you waited in line for coffee. “Really?” He asked sarcastically.
“Ugh.” You elbowed him. “You’re an ass.”
“I’m just saying, what kinda friends have a toothbrush at their place?” He tapped his cane against the floor lightly.
You tilted your head. “Uhhh… pretty sure at one point Foggy had a toothbrush at your place.”
“That he never used other than one time.”
You scoffed, nudging his side again. "Still counts."
Matt smirked. "Does it?"
"Yes, because that means I’m not the weird one here. You just have a habit of letting people leave their stuff at your place."
Matt tilted his head slightly, feigning thoughtfulness. "Interesting theory. Except you’re the only person whose toothbrush has stayed."
You opened your mouth to argue, then paused, realizing he was right. "Okay, fine, but that’s only because—"
"You stay over all the time?"
You huffed, rolling your eyes. "You’re impossible."
"And yet, here you are," he teased, squeezing your arm lightly before stepping forward to order.
---
Foggy opened the door to Matt’s office. “Hey, did you ever finish the deposition for the Martin case?”
Matt put down the fork to his Pad Thai, leaving it in the Styrofoam container. “Yeah, I did.”
You took the opportunity, snatching the fork from his container and stealing a bite of his Pad Thai. Matt huffed, but you could hear the amusement in it.
"Really?" he murmured.
"You put it down," you said, chewing. "That means it's fair game."
Foggy barely glanced up from the papers in his hand. "She’s got a point, Matt. You know the rules."
Matt exhaled sharply, shaking his head as he blindly reached for the fork still in your grip. You dodged, keeping it out of his reach as you took another bite.
Foggy flipped a page. "Anyway, judge pushed the hearing back a week, which is good because it gives us time to go over the new witness statement. Karen’s taking a look at it now."
Matt hummed in acknowledgment, still trying to reclaim his fork. You smirked, shifting slightly in his lap. He retaliated by sliding an arm around your waist, pinning you in place.
"You gonna give that back?" he murmured.
"Maybe," you teased, holding it just out of reach.
Foggy sighed, still not looking up. "If you two devolve into a full-on fork battle, at least take it outside. I don’t need Pad Thai in the depositions."
Matt smirked, finally managing to grab the utensil from your grip. "Noted."
You huffed but didn’t move, resting your elbow on his shoulder instead. "Fine. I got what I wanted anyway."
Matt chuckled, shaking his head as he twirled the fork back into his food.
Foggy snapped the folder shut. "Alright, well, since you two seem busy, I’ll go see if Karen needs help."
"Let us know if you need anything," Matt said easily.
"Yeah, yeah," Foggy muttered, already halfway out the door.
---
Josie’s was loud and crowded as always, but at this point it was like a second home. You were telling Karen about an incident in the lab. “—Levi somehow hooks the string around the sprinkler and pulls. I get an alert on my tablet and rush over to the lab. Turns out, when he pulled the sprinkler, he also pulled part of the main water line. All for a tiny qubit that got stuck on the ceiling.”
Karen snorted, shaking her head. "Please tell me this guy got fired."
"Nope," you said, sipping your drink. "Because technically, it worked. The qubit came loose. He just, y’know… flooded half the floor in the process."
Karen groaned. "God, Stark Industries sounds like a nightmare sometimes."
"You have no idea," you muttered, setting your glass down.
As you kept talking, you felt your shirt strap slide down your shoulder. It wasn’t anything major, just a slight shift, but before you could adjust it yourself, Matt did it for you.
His hand found your shoulder with ease, fingers brushing your skin as he hooked the strap with two fingers and guided it back into place. It was quick, thoughtless, something he’d probably done a hundred times before without even realizing.
Karen barely blinked.
You didn’t think much of it either, continuing on. "Anyway, Levi tried to convince me it was an 'engineering breakthrough' and that 'technically' he proved a new method of remote retrieval—"
"You’re kidding," Karen deadpanned.
"Oh, I wish."
Matt smirked beside you, listening quietly. His arm was resting along the back of your chair, close but not overbearing.
Karen leaned forward, taking another sip of her drink. "So what’d you do?"
You grinned. "Told him if he ever did that again, I’d make sure the next thing he got stuck was his own head in the centrifuge."
Karen burst out laughing. "And let me guess—he immediately backed down."
"Pretty much," you said smugly.
Matt chuckled, shaking his head. "You really are terrifying sometimes."
"And yet, here you are," you teased, echoing the same words you’d said to him earlier that morning.
Matt tilted his head slightly, smirk deepening. "Guess I have a thing for danger."
Karen rolled her eyes but didn’t comment. She was too used to the way you two interacted, and nothing about tonight seemed different from any other night.
---
“You didn’t have to come.” Matt murmured, as your hands combed through his hair. “It’s just a mugging case.”
“And yet,” you pulled your hands away. “You were goin’ to walk in there with hair like that.” You gave him a grin. “I helped you devil boy. Oh, wait.”
You pulled his red-lensed glasses off before cleaning them with your shirt. Matt huffed, tilting his head slightly. "You know, most people don’t manhandle my things without permission."
"Most people aren’t me," you shot back, flipping the glasses open and sliding them back onto his face.
Matt’s lips twitched, but he didn’t argue.
Foggy sighed from beside you. "How do you two have time for this while standing outside a courtroom?"
Karen smirked, arms crossed. "Multitasking."
You grinned. "Exactly. I’m helping him and annoying him at the same time."
Matt let out a quiet chuckle, shaking his head. "You really do take your job seriously."
"Obviously."
Before Foggy could reply, the courtroom doors opened, and the previous case let out, lawyers and reporters filing into the hallway. The four of you straightened slightly as Matt rolled his shoulders, settling into courtroom mode.
"Alright," Matt murmured, adjusting his tie. "Let’s get this over with."
You reached out instinctively, running a hand down the front of his suit, smoothing the fabric. "You’re good."
Matt caught your wrist before you could pull away, his thumb brushing over your pulse for just a second longer than necessary. “You going to stay?”
“Yep. I’ll be sittin’ in the front row looking pretty.”
Foggy snorted. "Sittin’ pretty? That’s your plan?"
"Someone’s gotta balance out Matt’s whole intimidating blind lawyer thing," you teased, adjusting your bag over your shoulder.
Matt smirked. "Intimidating, huh?"
"You know what you do," you muttered, patting his chest once before stepping back.
Karen chuckled, shaking her head. "Alright, let’s get in there before we miss the good part."
The courtroom was already filling up when you and Karen slipped into the front row, Matt and Foggy making their way to the bench. You crossed one leg over the other, leaning back slightly as you pulled your phone from your bag, muting notifications.
"You know, sometimes I forget you don’t actually work for them," Karen mused, watching as you settled in.
You glanced at her. "Why?"
Karen shrugged. "You’re here so often, always involved in their cases, bringing them food, making sure Matt doesn’t walk into court looking like he just crawled out of a dumpster—"
"Hey," you cut in. "I don’t make him look good. He just listens to me when I tell him to fix his tie."
Karen smirked, tilting her head. "Mhm."
You rolled your eyes, looking toward the front of the courtroom. Matt and Foggy were talking in hushed tones, Foggy flipping through a stack of papers while Matt leaned slightly toward him, nodding at something he said.
Karen was still watching you, but you ignored her.
The judge entered, and the room settled as the proceedings began.
---
The hearing wasn’t long, but it was long enough for you to notice Karen sneaking glances at you every so often. You didn’t say anything, keeping your focus on the case.
Matt and Foggy handled it well, as expected. You knew Matt’s confidence in the courtroom was unmatched, and even though you couldn’t see his eyes behind the red lenses, you knew he was completely locked in, analyzing every shift in the judge’s tone, every heartbeat in the room.
By the time the judge adjourned the hearing, you were stretching slightly, rolling your shoulders as you stood.
Matt and Foggy approached, gathering their things. "Well," Foggy said, stuffing papers into his briefcase. "That went about as well as it could’ve."
Matt hummed in agreement. "We should have a decision in a few days."
Karen exhaled. "That was exhausting to watch, so I can’t imagine how you two feel."
Matt smiled. "Used to it."
You reached out, fixing the fold of his pocket square before he could tuck his cane under his arm. "You did good."
Matt turned his head toward you slightly, smirk playing at his lips. "Yeah?"
You huffed. "Yeah, Murdock. Try not to look so smug about it."
Foggy raised a brow, gaze flickering between the two of you for a second. Karen, too, was watching, something unreadable in her expression.
Neither of them said anything.
"Alright," Foggy finally broke the silence, snapping his briefcase shut. "Lunch? Please? I need food after all that legal jargon."
"Agreed," Karen said.
You nodded. "Sounds good to me."
Matt tapped his cane against the floor once, falling into step beside you. Karen shot one last glance between the two of you but still said nothing.
---
You pulled out an expired container of milk. “Matty, I seriously don’t know how you, of all people, didn’t notice you had 2-week expired milk in your fridge.”
Matt smirked from where he was leaning against the counter, arms crossed over his chest. "You think I make a habit of sniffing my milk cartons?"
You made a face, waving the expired container in his direction. "Considering you should be able to smell the rotting dairy in your fridge? Yeah, actually, I do."
Matt huffed a quiet laugh, stepping forward as you popped the lid open and took an experimental sniff—only to gag immediately.
"Jesus Christ," you muttered, shoving the carton at him. "Smell it. I dare you."
Matt wrinkled his nose, taking a slight step back. "I’ll pass."
"Uh-huh, that’s what I thought." You shut the carton and tossed it in the trash before opening the fridge again. "When’s the last time you actually bought groceries?"
Matt leaned against the counter, lips twitching. "Don’t know. You usually do it for me."
You shot him a look over your shoulder. "That’s not the win you think it is, Murdock."
"I don’t know," he murmured, stepping behind you, hands settling at your waist. "Feels like a win to me."
Your breath hitched as he leaned in slightly, lips brushing just behind your ear. You huffed, pushing him back lightly with your elbow. "No, you don’t get to distract me. Your fridge is a disaster."
Matt let out a quiet chuckle but didn’t let go entirely. "I’ve survived this long."
"Yeah, because I keep you alive," you muttered, pulling out a sad-looking bag of spinach and holding it up for him. "This? This is a crime."
Matt smirked. "Pretty sure I deal with actual crimes for a living."
"You’re so lucky you’re cute." You tossed the bag onto the counter with a sigh. "Alright, that’s it. We’re going grocery shopping."
"You say that like I have a choice."
"You don’t," you said, shutting the fridge and turning in his arms.
Matt smiled, fingers brushing over your hip before he dropped his hands. "At least let me buy you dinner after."
You narrowed your eyes playfully. "Bribing me with food?"
"Wouldn’t be the first time."
You rolled your eyes, but the smirk you tried to suppress still made its way onto your lips. "Fine. But you’re carrying all the bags."
"Deal," Matt murmured, reaching for his cane.
You grabbed your coat, glancing at him as he adjusted his watch. "And I’m making sure you don’t buy anything that will expire in two days."
Matt chuckled. "Now that’s just cruel."
---
The grocery store was relatively quiet for a Friday night, the kind of late-evening lull where the only customers were people grabbing last-minute dinner ingredients or, in Matt’s case, replacing an entire fridge’s worth of expired food.
You pushed the cart while Matt walked beside you, his hand resting lightly at the crook of your elbow. "Alright, first things first," you said, steering the cart toward the produce section. "You’re getting actual vegetables. Not just things that used to be vegetables before they died a slow, tragic death in your fridge."
Matt smirked. "I resent that."
"You resent having to eat vegetables," you shot back, picking up a head of lettuce and tossing it into the cart.
Matt tilted his head slightly, like he was considering. "That might be true."
You sighed dramatically. "It’s like taking a toddler shopping."
"You did sign up for this," Matt pointed out, casually trailing his fingers over the display of apples as he passed.
You side-eyed him. "Did I? I don’t remember agreeing to supervise you."
"You knew what you were getting into," he teased, reaching past you to grab an apple and setting it in the cart.
"Yeah, yeah," you muttered, adding a few more. "What else do you need? Other than everything."
Matt hummed, fingers tapping lightly against the handle of the cart. "Bread. Eggs. Coffee."
"Obviously," you muttered, already steering the cart in that direction.
As you walked, Matt’s hand slid from your elbow to your wrist, fingers idly tracing over your pulse before his hand found yours, linking your fingers together like it was nothing.
You squeezed his hand slightly. "If you think holding my hand is gonna distract me from making you buy actual groceries, you’re wrong."
Matt huffed a quiet laugh, thumb brushing over the back of your hand. "Worth a shot."
"Mm-hmm," you mused, scanning the shelves as you walked. You paused near the coffee aisle, reaching for a bag of Matt’s usual blend.
"That one’s good," Matt said, nodding toward it.
You smirked, holding up a different one just to mess with him. "What about this one?"
Matt tilted his head slightly, a smirk playing on his lips. "That one’s decaf."
Your lips parted in mock surprise. "Wow. Look at that. Guess you do pay attention to your groceries."
Matt exhaled a laugh, leaning in slightly. "I pay attention to you."
Your stomach flipped, but you covered it with an eye roll, tossing his usual coffee into the cart before dragging him toward the next aisle.
---
By the time you made it to the checkout, the cart was full. Probably more food than Matt had ever willingly bought for himself.
"You’re never gonna finish all this," he mused as you unloaded onto the conveyor belt.
"You will if you actually cook," you shot back. "And don’t tell me you can’t. I’ve seen you do it."
Matt smirked, handing the cashier his card before you could stop him. "Guess I have no choice now."
You squinted at him. "That sounds suspiciously like a challenge."
Matt tilted his head. "Maybe it is."
You grinned. "Alright, Murdock. Guess I’ll be the judge of whether or not you can actually cook."
Matt chuckled, grabbing the grocery bags as the cashier finished bagging them. "I did offer to buy you dinner."
You crossed your arms. "I thought we were talking restaurant dinner, not Murdock’s Mystery Kitchen dinner."
Matt smirked, shifting the bags in his hands. "I never specified."
You rolled your eyes but reached out, grabbing a couple of bags from him. "Fine. But if you burn anything, I’m taking over."
"Noted," Matt said, leaning in just slightly. "But I wouldn’t underestimate me, sweetheart."
You huffed, shoving a bag at him before walking toward the door. "We’ll see about that, devil boy."
---
“Where’s my shirt? You know, the soft blue one with a star embroidered on it?”
Matt, who was sitting on the couch, fingers tracing a braille legal document, tilted his head. “…Where are your clothes?”
“My—that’s what I’m asking you.” You replied, hands on your hips, leaning against his bedroom door.
Matt’s lips twitched, setting the braille document down on the coffee table. He turned his head slightly, his attention fully on you now. "You’re asking me where your clothes are?"
"Yes, Matty." You sighed, crossing your arms. "I took a shower, and now I can’t find my damn shirt. The soft blue one? The one with the star embroidered on it?"
Matt hummed, pushing himself up from the couch, his movements slow, deliberate. "And you think I did something with it?"
"You have a habit of stealing my clothes," you pointed out. "So yes, you’re my prime suspect."
Matt smirked, stepping toward you. "Interesting accusation, sweetheart."
You didn’t flinch as he closed the distance, his fingers barely brushing along your forearm, trailing up to your shoulder before settling against your jaw.
"You’re not wearing any clothes."
You rolled your eyes. "I am wearing clothes. Just not the ones I want."
Matt exhaled a quiet chuckle, tilting his head slightly. "Bra and underwear don’t count."
"Tell that to every guy who’s ever seen a Victoria’s Secret ad," you muttered.
Matt grinned. "Is that what this is? A show?"
You huffed, lightly swatting at his chest. "You’re impossible."
"And yet, here you are," he teased, echoing your words from earlier, his fingers still lazily tracing the edge of your jaw.
You narrowed your eyes but didn’t pull away. "Are you gonna help me find my shirt or not?"
Matt’s lips twitched. "I’m starting to think you just wanted an excuse to walk around like this."
You scoffed. "Matty, if I wanted to walk around half-naked in your apartment, I would. I don’t need an excuse."
Matt grinned. "Good to know."
You rolled your eyes, stepping back. "So are you gonna help or—"
Before you could finish, Matt turned toward his dresser, fingers trailing over the top before he grabbed something and held it out.
Your missing shirt.
Your jaw dropped. "You knew where it was this whole time?"
Matt shrugged. "You left it here last week. I thought it was mine."
You squinted at him. "Since when do you own a soft blue shirt with a star embroidered on it?"
Matt smirked. "I don’t, but you leave your stuff here so often, I figured it was fair game."
You snatched it from his hands. "Unbelievable."
Matt huffed a laugh, crossing his arms. "You gonna put it on, or do I get to keep enjoying the view?"
You shot him a look, but the heat in his voice sent something warm curling in your stomach. You turned away, slipping the shirt over your head, and when you glanced back, Matt was still smirking.
"Happy now?" you muttered.
Matt hummed, stepping closer again. "Not yet."
Before you could respond, he leaned in, catching your chin between his fingers before pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your lips.
When he pulled back, his smirk deepened. "Now I’m happy."
You scoffed, trying to ignore the way your heart was hammering in your chest. "You’re ridiculous."
"And you love it."
You rolled your eyes but didn’t argue.
---
It was late at night when Matt convinced you to stay. Foggy and Karen were out of the office for the night, leaving just you and Matt doing your separate work.
The office was quiet, save for the occasional rustling of paper and the distant hum of the city outside.
You were perched on Matt’s couch, cross-legged, a set of blueprints spread across your lap while he sat at his desk, reading over a case file. Neither of you spoke, lost in your own work, but there was a comfortable ease to it.
"Are you even getting anything done over there?" Matt asked suddenly, breaking the silence.
You didn’t look up. "Are you?"
He hummed. "I was. Until I realized how unfair this is."
You sighed, already knowing where this was going. "What’s unfair, Matty?"
"You get to sit all comfy on my couch, while I’m stuck here, hard at work."
You snorted. "Hard at work, huh? I didn’t realize whining counted as work."
Matt pushed his chair back, standing slowly. "I think I deserve a break."
You barely glanced up. "Then take one. I’m actually doing something productive."
Matt made his way toward you, hands in his pockets. "Are you?"
You narrowed your eyes, lifting a brow. "Yes. Unlike some people, I have deadlines to meet."
Matt hummed, stepping in front of you. "And yet, you’re still here. With me."
"Because you asked me to stay," you reminded him, flipping a page. "You coerced me."
Matt smirked. "Did I?"
"Yes, you—hey!"
In one swift motion, Matt plucked the blueprints from your lap and set them aside. Before you could protest, he leaned down, hands bracketing your sides as he caged you against the couch.
"Take a break with me, angel," he murmured.
You exhaled, glaring up at him. "You are so—"
Whatever insult you had lined up died in your throat as Matt leaned in, pressing a slow, lingering kiss to your jaw. His lips brushed over your pulse, deliberate, teasing.
"Annoying?" he murmured.
You swallowed hard. "Distracting."
Matt grinned against your skin. "Mm. I’ll take that."
Your fingers curled around his tie, tugging slightly. "You are so lucky I like you."
Matt chuckled, dipping his head until his lips were just barely grazing yours. "Yeah?"
"Yeah."
You closed the distance, kissing him properly.
Matt exhaled against your lips, deepening it immediately. His hands skimmed down your sides, gripping your waist as he pulled you flush against him. You barely noticed when he guided you backward, until the edge of his desk dug into your lower back.
"Matty," you murmured between kisses.
"Mm?"
"I thought we were taking a break."
"This is my break," he murmured, pressing an open-mouthed kiss to your throat.
You huffed a quiet laugh, threading your fingers into his hair. "Productive."
Matt grinned against your skin, hands slipping under the hem of your shirt. "You’re the one distracting me, sweetheart."
You rolled your eyes but didn’t stop him, tilting your head slightly to give him better access. His lips trailed back up, capturing yours again in a kiss that left your head spinning.
Neither of you noticed the sound of the front door opening.
At least, you didn’t.
Matt either didn’t hear it, or—more likely—just didn’t care.
"Hey, Matt, I left my phone—"
Foggy’s voice cut through the air like a record scratch.
You froze.
Matt, however, barely reacted. His lips left yours just enough for him to let out a quiet sigh—like he was annoyed—before pressing one last kiss to your jaw.
"Should’ve knocked, Fog," he murmured.
Your entire body was on fire. You didn’t dare turn around. Foggy, for his part, just stood there. Silent. Karen was the one to break it. "Uh."
You exhaled sharply, tilting your head back against the desk. "Jesus Christ."
Matt still didn’t move. He just turned his head slightly in their direction. "You left your phone?"
Foggy blinked. "Yeah." A beat. "But now I kinda wanna leave it here forever."
Karen coughed, her voice tight with suppressed laughter. "Should we leave?"
You groaned, covering your face with your hands.
Matt just smirked. "You could, but I doubt you will."
Karen cleared her throat. "Y’know what? I suddenly really need a drink."
"Yeah, me too," Foggy muttered, grabbing his phone off the desk and speed walking toward the door.
Karen cast one last glance between the two of you, shaking her head before following. The second the door shut behind them, you finally shoved Matt away.
"You knew they were coming, didn’t you!?"
Matt grinned, shrugging. "You said it yourself—I have a habit of coercing you."
You gaped at him. "Murdock."
He just leaned in again, lips ghosting over your ear. "You gonna finish what you started, angel?"
Your face burned. "I started!?"
Matt chuckled, nudging his nose against yours.
"You’re impossible," you muttered, still flustered.
"And yet," Matt murmured, smirking, "here you are."
hii hii HEHEHEH this is so brain rot but i need a story where logan is a big time cuddler (i know he gives the best hug ever 😭) maybe he keeps that only to reader!!
ଓ IN HIS ARMS
pairing: logan howlett x reader
summary: logan is a big time cuddler, but he saves all his tender, comforting affection just for you.
word count: 1.3k
content: fluff, established relationship, implied sex, post-sex cuddles.
a/n: hiii, sorry it took me so long to write it 😭 I may have changed a little from what you asked, but I hope you like it <3
── english isn't my first language :)
Everyone around the mansion was well aware of Logan's grumpy reputation. He was the gruff one, all hard edges, and sharp looks, the not-friendly and indifferent expression to keep people not so close. To most, he's the Wolverine—reserved, intimidating, and always prefers little interaction. But of course, he had his exceptions, like you. You knew better.
Because behind closed doors, Logan was yours, and he’s the most touch-hungry man you've ever met. You know the man beneath the scowl who would hold you close until the rest of the world disappeared if he could. Deep down, he was the type who wouldn’t readily admit it, but he absolutely adored cuddling.
No one would believe it if you told them, but Logan is the best cuddler in the world. There’s something about the way he wraps his arms around you, how his broad chest and strong shoulders make you feel so small and completely safe. It’s like being surrounded by pure strength, and yet it’s soft, too—his touch careful, deliberate, filled with a tenderness that only you get to see. God this man knew how to hug.
Right now, his arms are wrapped around you as you settle against his chest, his warmth seeping into you like the coziest blanket. The room is quiet except for the soft hum of life outside and the sound of his steady breathing. Nights like this—peaceful, undisturbed—are your favorite.
You let out a contented sigh, your head resting against the solid strength of his chest. His heartbeat thumps steadily beneath your ear, soothing and grounding in a way only Logan can manage.
“You comfy, princess?” he murmurs, his voice low and rough, sending a pleasant shiver down your spine.
“Mm-hmm,” you hum softly, snuggling closer.
Logan’s hand drifts lazily up and down your back, tracing slow, soothing circles. He’s always touching you like this, his hands finding you almost instinctively, whether it’s to ground himself or to comfort you. Maybe it’s both.
“You’ve got the best hugs,” you murmur, your voice muffled against his chest.
Logan chuckles softly, the sound a deep, rumbling vibration against your cheek. “Yeah? Don’t tell anyone. Gotta keep my image intact.”
You laugh lightly, shifting to look up at him. His lips quirked in a rare smile, the kind only you ever see. Before you can say anything else, he leans down to press a kiss to your forehead, lingering there like he’s savoring the moment.
Logan doesn’t say it, but you know this side of him—the warmth, the tenderness, the way he holds you like you’re the most important thing in the world—is something he reserves only for you. Around the others, he’s all scowls and clipped words, but in private, he’s the kind of man who craves touch like it’s air.
He didn’t always show it, though. Logan wasn’t the kind of man to give away pieces of himself so easily. It took a while to get that part of him. You vividly remember the first time he hugged you like this, back when he still had walls up, back when you weren’t sure what you meant to him.
You’d been having a rough day—a hard mission that made you doubt yourself, leaving you shaken and overwhelmed. You tried to hide it from everyone, retreating to the quiet safety of your room. But Logan noticed. He always noticed.
Without a word, he appeared in your doorway, his expression softer than usual but still guarded.
“You okay?” he asked, voice low and gravelly.
At first, you nodded, trying to brush it off, but when he stepped closer and gently touched your arm, the dam broke. You let out a shaky breath, your eyes stinging, and before you could stop yourself, you leaned into him.
For a second, you thought he’d pull away—this was Logan, after all. But instead, his arms came around you, steady and sure, pulling you against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.
That was the first time you felt the magic of the Wolverine hug. His hold was strong but not overwhelming like he was shielding you from everything bad in the world. His hand ran soothingly up and down your back, his chin resting lightly on top of your head.
“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble in your ear. “I’ve got you.”
And he did. From that moment on, you realized that Logan wasn’t just a good hugger—he was the best. There was something about the way he held you like he could take all your worries and crush them with his strength. He didn’t need to say much; his arms said it all.
Now, it’s second nature. He doesn’t wait for an excuse to hold you—he pulls you into his lap while you’re reading, tangles himself around you when you’re in bed, and presses his face into your hair after a long day. His hands are always on you, whether it’s a comforting palm against your back, his fingers laced with yours, or his arm slung around your waist like he needs to keep you close. And you dare to say he loves it more than you.
After the sex, he’s especially clingy—not that you mind. Pulling you into his arms as if he’s afraid you’ll disappear, he will wrap himself around you completely. His lips leave lazy, soft, lingering open-mouthed kisses to your shoulder, hair, collarbone, cheek—anywhere he can reach. Each one feels like a promise, a reminder that you’re his. He let his hands roam lazily, tracing patterns on your skin like he’s memorizing every inch of you.
“You feel so damn good, princess” he’ll whisper, his voice rough but tender. And the way he holds you in those moments like he never wants to let go, makes you feel like you’re the center of his universe.
And the way he looks at you in those moments? It’s enough to make your heart stop. His usual sharp, guarded gaze softens, filled with a quiet devotion he doesn’t show to anyone else.
Around the others, he’s all grumbles and scowls, pretending he’s not the same man who just kissed you senselessly an hour ago. He keeps his distance—at least, as much as he can.
Even in public, though, there are cracks in his armor. His hand will brush yours under the table or he’ll rest his palm on your thigh. Sometimes, when he thinks no one’s paying attention, you’ll catch him watching you with an intensity that makes your heart race.
The others might tease him for being overprotective, for always keeping an eye on you, but they don’t see the real Logan. They don’t see how he softens when he holds you or how he presses his forehead against yours like you’re the thing that saved him.
“Love you,” he murmurs now, his lips brushing against your hair. His voice is quiet like he’s not ready to say it too loudly, but the words hit you like a warm rush all the same.
You tilt your head up to meet his gaze, those dark, stormy eyes soft in the dim light. “Love you too,” you whisper, brushing a kiss against his jaw before settling back into his arms.
Logan presses another kiss to the top of your head, his hand slipping under the blanket to pull you closer. He holds you like you’re his anchor, his steady presence in a chaotic world.
And as you drift off in his arms, surrounded by his warmth and strength, the rest of the world feels small and far away—because with Logan, you’re home.
𖤐 reblogs and feedback are appreciated! requests are also welcome, ty!
so, uh... i've always thought about how logan is a thigh person and i haven't really written about it 'till i saw this post. and last night i just sat down and wrote this in one go because i was inspired. it's also a different style from what i normally do, but i hope y'all like it!
warnings/tags: fem!reader, thick thighs, fluff, thigh fucking, unprotected piv, oral (f!receiving), slight overstimulation
Logan loves every part of you, no matter who you are or how you look. But if you have thick thighs? He’s a goner.
He loves it when you wear leggings or anything that accentuates them.
If you choose to wear shorts or a skirt you always complain about them riding up and chafing, so he always has lotion and an extra pair of shorts (that are longer) even if you never wear them.
Logan’s hand will never leave your thigh if you’re sitting next to him. At dinner? Hand on thigh. In the common room? Hand on thigh. In the car? Hand. On. Thigh.
You were embarrassed at first when you wore skinny jeans—or anything pair of pants that made that awful swooshing sound.
Logan only noticed it because you would slow down in the hallway before resuming your normal pace before doing it all over again. Multiple times.
Logan doesn’t say anything at first, just watches you do that little shuffle-stop thing over and over. Then, after the fifth or sixth time, he huffs. "Darlin', what the hell are you doin’?"
You freeze mid-step, feeling heat crawl up your neck. "Nothing."
"Uh-huh." His gaze drops to your thighs, eyes narrowing. "S’yer jeans, ain’t it?"
You groan, throwing your head back. "They make that stupid noise!"
Logan smirks. "Yeah, I noticed. Cute."
You glare at him. "It's not cute. It’s annoying."
"Nah," he says, stepping closer, his voice dropping. "But know what is? The way those jeans hug ya." His hands—warm, rough, possessive—find your hips. "Don’t gotta be self-conscious, sugar. Just means I get t’hear ya comin’."
18+
Logan isn’t afraid to try something new in the bedroom, and you’re okay with experimenting. So when his cock brushed your already wet cunt but didn’t push in, you just thought he was going to tease you (again).
When his cock slides between your thighs, hot and hard, Logan lets out a low, satisfied growl. "Damn, sweetheart… told ya I love these thighs."
Your legs are over his shoulders, the muscles flexing as he moves, the slick glide of his cock between them making everything feel impossibly intimate. You can feel every pulse, every twitch, the heat of him pressing in close but not quite where you expected.
You let out a whine, shifting beneath him. "Logan—"
"Shh," he murmurs, pressing a kiss to your knee. "Just relax, darlin’. Lemme enjoy this."
His rough hands grip your thighs, squeezing, kneading—appreciative, greedy. He loves the way they frame him, the way his cock slides through the tight press of your skin, the friction enough to drive him wild.
"You’re so warm," he mutters, voice thick with need. His thumbs stroke over your soft flesh, then press in, urging your thighs to tighten around him. "Fuck, that’s it."
You whimper when the tip of his cock drags over your clit with each slow thrust, the teasing, rhythmic pressure enough to have your toes curling.
"You feel that?" Logan smirks, eyes heavy-lidded as he watches your face. "Bet you love it, huh?"
Your breath hitches. "Y-yeah—"
"Good." His voice is rough, gravelly, dripping with satisfaction. "’Cause I could do this all night."
One hand slips down to cup the back of your knee, keeping your legs in place as he speeds up just enough to have you gasping.
"Logan—" Your fingers dig into the sheets, nails biting deep. "Please."
He groans, pressing forward until your thighs are flush against his abs, his cock still gliding between them, slick with both of you. "Fuck, you’re squeezin’ me so good, sweetheart."
And then—his lips on your skin, his teeth scraping, the sharp bite of them against your inner thigh making you jerk beneath him. He soothes the sting with his tongue, then chuckles at your reaction.
"Sensitive?" He smirks against your skin. "Gotta remember that."
You’re gasping now, fingers tangling in his hair as he mouths at your thigh, his breath hot and heavy. Every thrust of his hips sends sparks through you, your thighs slick and trembling against him.
And when he finally pulls back to look at you, pupils blown wide, breath ragged, he grins—slow, lazy, devastating.
"You’re gonna let me do this again," he murmurs, dragging his cock against you one last time before pulling back just enough to position himself. "Ain’tcha?"
You can’t even form words—you just nod, desperate, whimpering, thighs still trembling.
"Good girl," he growls, sinking into you at last.
And when he does fuck you, Logan's got you where he wants you—on your side, one leg hooked over his shoulder, the other pressed into the mattress beneath his weight. His hands grip the meat of your thigh, fingers sinking in as he uses it for leverage, each slow, deliberate thrust pressing you deeper into the sheets.
His breath is ragged, his voice rough against your skin. "Fuck, sugar… feel so damn good like this." His fingers tighten, spreading your leg just a little wider, just enough to make the drag of his cock that much deeper.
You let out a gasp, nails biting into his forearm. "Logan—"
He hums, lips brushing the soft inside of your knee. "Yeah, darlin’?" Like he doesn't know exactly what you want. Like he isn't already giving it to you.
The angle has you feeling everything—every thick inch of him sliding deep, every twitch, every pulse. You can’t do much more than whimper, thighs shaking as the pressure builds.
"S’what I thought." He smirks, dropping his head to nip at the tender skin of your thigh. "You’re all fuckin’ talk ‘til I’ve gotcha like this."
His thrusts pick up, the steady push and pull making the bed creak beneath you. His grip is bruising, his body all heat and muscle as he keeps you exactly where he wants you.
"Fuck, look atcha," he mutters, dragging his gaze over your body. "Spread open f’me, takin’ it so fuckin’ good." His hand drags over your thigh, palm rough, possessive, before squeezing. "Made for this, huh?"
Your breath hitches, the pleasure twisting tight in your belly.
Logan grins—slow, wicked. "Yeah, you are."
He fucks you like that for what feels like forever, keeping you right on the edge, dragging it out just to watch you squirm. The smirk on his face is nothing short of smug when your fingers tangle in his hair, desperate, needy.
"Logan, please—"
He groans, shifting his grip, his fingers pressing deep as he pulls your thigh up higher, pushing in until there’s no space left between you. "That’s it," he rasps. "Let me hear you, darlin’."
You whimper, arching beneath him, the new angle hitting something that makes your vision blur.
His voice drops lower, gravelly. "Mmm, bet that’s real good, huh?"
You don’t answer—can’t answer—not when he’s got you like this, not when every thrust has you unraveling beneath him.
When he finds himself between your legs, whether it’s you on your back or you sitting on his face, he can’t help but think that this is exactly where he wants to be.
If you’re on your back, Logan’s got your thighs pinned apart, hands pressing into the soft flesh like he’s got no intention of letting go. His grip is firm, possessive, like he’s staking his claim right then and there. "Fuckin’ perfect," he mutters, dragging his lips along the sensitive skin of your inner thigh. "Could stay down here forever, darlin’."
He’s got a habit of teasing, dragging things out just to watch you squirm, but the second you thread your fingers through his hair and give the slightest tug? That’s it—he’s gone. He groans against you, rough and low, and then his tongue is on you, hot and unrelenting.
His stubble scratches against your skin, leaving the perfect mix of rough and soft, and when he catches the way your thighs start to tremble, he just tightens his grip. "Nah, sweetheart," he murmurs between slow, wet strokes. "Ain’t lettin’ you run from this."
And if you try to close your thighs around his head? Oh, he loves that. Growls into you, lets his fingers dig deeper into your flesh, holding you open despite the way you’re shaking. "That’s it," he groans, voice muffled against you. "Fuckin’ take it."
But when you’re on top of him? That’s a whole different kind of feral. He’s lying back, arms hooked around your thighs, keeping you exactly where he wants you. His gaze is heavy, dark with hunger as he watches you hover over him, breath hitching when you lower yourself down.
The second you settle against his mouth, Logan groans like he’s been starving for this. His grip tightens, fingers flexing against your thighs before dragging you down even further. "C’mon, sweetheart," he rasps against you, "lemme have it."
He lets you move at your own pace—at first. But it doesn’t take long before he gets impatient, before his hands tighten and his tongue flicks just right and suddenly, he’s guiding your hips, making you ride his mouth the way he wants.
The sounds he makes—fuck, they’re sinful. The low growls, the groans vibrating against you, the sharp inhales when you tug on his hair. He’s fucking obsessed, and he doesn’t care if you know it.
"Taste so damn good," he mutters between deep, deliberate strokes of his tongue. "Could do this all night, darlin’."
And if you try to pull away—too much, too intense—Logan just growls, arms tightening around your thighs to keep you exactly where you are. "Nope," he grits out. "You stay right there, sugar."
He’s relentless. Keeps going until you’re shaking, gasping, fingers tangling in his hair as you lose yourself against him. And even then, even after you’ve come undone, he presses a few more slow, teasing kisses against your sensitive skin, smirking when you whimper at the overstimulation.
"Mmm," he hums, finally pulling back just enough to look up at you, lips slick, eyes full of mischief. "Think I might be addicted."
don't ask what happened or why it's so long, 'cause i don't have an answer😂
i was on a roll (and possibly ovulating - what? who said that?)
Thank you to everyone who submitted so many recommendations to celebrate all the fantastic works of BIPOC writers in the Pedro fandom! Please read, share, and enjoy all of these incredible authors and fics! 🥹 If you have any other writers or fics you want to share, inbox or DM me, so I can keep this as up to date as possible!! Thanks for helping to spread some love 💛
@80ssong A03 masterlist (Joel Miller, Javi G, Frankie Morales)
@artemiseamoon masterlist for PPCU (all Pedro characters)
@cxrsed-angel masterlist for PPCU (Joel Miller, Marcus Acacius, Reed Richards)
@damneddamsy masterlist for Joel Miller series
@flawssy-227 masterlist for all writing (Joel Miller)
@flightlessangelwings masterlist for all writing (All Pedro characters)
@flordeamatista one-shot: A Sweeter Place (Joel Miller)
@gothcsz materlist for all writing (Javier Peña, Marcus Acacius)
@inclusivepedro-oscarlibrary another source for POC authors!
@joeloverture masterlist for all writing (Joel Miller)
@kedsandtubesocks masterlist for all writing (all Pedro characters)
@kilamonster one-shot: Lola (Javier Peña)
@letsgobarbs one-shot: Joel Miller x Logan Howlett
@liltangerineart masterlist for all writing (Din Djarin, Javier Peña, Joel Miller)
@lovesbiggerthanpride masterlist for all writing (Javier Peña, Frankie Morales, Dave York, Dieter Bravo, Javi G, Joel Miller)
@megamindsecretlair one-shot: Break My Heart (Javier Peña)
@mostclevermiss one-shot: Sic Simper Tyrannus (Marcus Acacius)
@nerdieforpedro masterlist for all writing (All Pedro characters)
@ovaryacted masterlist for all writing (Joel Miller, Javier Peña, Marcus Acacius, Dieter Bravo)
@pedroscurls masterlist for all writing (Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Javier Peña, Marcus Acacius, Marcus Pike)
@pedrospatch masterlist for all writing (Joel Miller, Javier Peña)
@penvisions masterlist for all writing (Joel Miller, Frankie Morales, Din Djarin, Jack 'Whiskey' Daniels, Javi G, Ted Garcia)
@superhoeva masterlist for Frankie Morales series
@stargirlfics masterlist for Joel Miller
@thundermartini masterlist for all writing (Joel Miller, Javier Peña)
@yxtkiwiyxt masterlist for all writing (Javier Peña, Joel Miller, Dave York, Dieter Bravo)
Joel Miller
A Sweeter Place by @flordeamatista
Loopholes (series) by @yxtkiwiyxt
Stages of Devotion (series) by @penvisions
Deadfall by @joeloverture
Falling by @damneddamsy
All I Do by @flawssy-227
Butterfly by @stargirlfics
So Much Goddamn Talk by @stargirlfics
Let's Go by @thundermartini
Let Me Show You by @pedroscurls
Javier Peña
Unscripted Desire (series) by @gothcsz
Neighbors (series) by @gothcsz
Lola by @kilamonster
Complicated by @ovaryacted
Lap Dance by @yxtkiwiyxt
Break My Heart by @megamindsecretlair
Touch Tank by @thundermartini
Frankie Morales
Game Changer by @kedsandtubesocks
The Margay (series) by @ohforficsake
Take me Home Tonight by @80ssong
The Realm of Love by @80ssong
Marcus Acacius
Sic Simper Tyrannus by @mostclevermiss
III by @gothcsz
Din Djarin
Healing Pains by @liltangerineart
Dieter Bravo
Fire Starter by @kedsandtubesocks
Dave York
Homecoming by @letsgobarbs
𝚗𝚒𝚌𝚘𝚕𝚎• 𝐬𝐡𝐞/𝐡𝐞𝐫 • twenties • 𝐦𝐮𝐥𝐭𝐢𝐟𝐚𝐧𝐝𝐨𝐦[18+ only]Header by @/saradika
46 posts