#it also took us the longest to get through our first time round...

[loneliestpeopleinnewport]

also me and my brother finally finished our s2 rewatch the other day. that second half of the season is so good. go figure your main characters finally orbiting around each other is enjoyable...

we're moving onto s3 and I was honestly going to ask to sack it off because of how bitter I feel about it towards the end. but I have some notes from a couple years ago where I said that seth and marissa had twin storylines so now I need to watch with an observational eye to see if I was just losing it or what.

[sunshine304]

FTH Fanbinding: "Disrespect" 'verse by Khashana

And here is my last fanbinding for the FTH crafts bazaar! @khashanakalashtar won one of the raffles and decided on having their own fic bound, a series of 12 parts for Avatar: The Last Airbender. I’m unfamiliar with the fandom; I know some basics like a few characters’ names and the elemental bender thing but that’s about it. But when I read the fic, I found that it didn’t matter all that much because it was a modern AU and was really enjoyable even without knowledge of the show!

As it’s set at Bryn Mawr College, I decided to use that as a bit of a throughline for the design, because it definitely was easier than trying to find many fitting pictures from ATLA where I often can’t even tell if it’s official promo or fanmade stuff. XD

The design for the cover was quite clear early on. Khashana had said that they’d like the colour red for the case (fitting, as Zuko is the central character), and so I settled on this lovely Duo bookcloth. Depending on how the light hits it, the linen looks either red or slightly orange as it mixes threads of different colour.

This was the first time I tried a full linen case and it worked super well! I had no problems and no creases, so I’m very happy that it was quite easy to do, actually. 

I didn’t want to go yet again for the red/gold type of cover, so I decided to write the title with blue, as Katara and Sokka are also heavily featured in the fic and they're colour-coded blue. *g*

For endpapers, I kept to Zuko’s colours, basically. I think it looks appropriate. Same with the ribbon and headbands.

The typesetting, ohhh boy. This took me the longest out of all the books, because I’d gotten it into my head to keep to the 12-part-structure (instead of, say, making chapters out of the parts). That meant that I wanted to make a little title page for each part. Which also meant doing graphics. Lots of them. T_T

Khashana had done graphics for all the fics/podfics, but not all of them worked for this book as they of course came from the show. So I used a few of them, doing some editing to get them to the right size, and then went hunting for more. I settled on a mix of edited photos of the college (like the houses that are mentioned in the fics) and edited screenshots of the characters that did a least look slightly like it could be a modern setting. *g* In any case, I tried to find a connection to the fic when choosing the graphic.

I also added little graphics at the beginning of each part that illustrated something from it in one way or another, sometimes basically repeating the title page, sometimes choosing a different image. 

Halfway through these edits, I was like, "OMG this takes forever, I should've just gone with a text-based title page." T_T But now I was committed! XD

I also added their current map to the book as I really liked how it looked.

I think the book came out really well in the end and it’s a well-rounded concept, but wow, did it take me a while. XD

Anyway, I’m very pleased with this book! :D

Thank you, @khashanakalashtar, for participating in FTH and for letting me work with your fic!

Materials used:

Printed on Clairefontaine Papago 80g

- booklinen Duo 222 - booklinen English Buckram (lantern) - endpapers: Chiyogami paper 60g - hot foil (Action) Link to the fic series:

[callgespenst]

It wasn't a hugely eventful convention or anything but I should probably still write up my Matsuricon 2024 report.

Thursday: Had a friend stay over at my place for the weekend. Pregamed the con by watching a few more episodes of Legend of the Galactic Heroes.

Friday: Cosplayed Soujyurou from Mahoyo, made the jacket and safety pinned my Robin plush to my shoulder. Showed up, grabbed my badge, ran our Lupin III panel for the first time in...four and a half years? Went out into the hallway to chat with people who attended the panel. Then suddenly it was four hours later and we went home.

Saturday: Went home early on Friday to be awake and in a panel room at 8 AM on Saturday to talk about robots for two hours. Midway through the 90s we realized that, despite getting the longest possible timeslot, we were still almost out of time, and had to blast through the last three decades. Haven't done that panel in a while either (haven't done too many panels in general since the pandemic).

Got lunch and looked around the dealer's hall for a bit. I got a rubber charm of Bocchi (of Rock) from a gachapon machine. Not a whole lot else I was interested in, but that's objectively a good thing. Then it was off to the YGO tournament!

I'd revamped my deck (again) because I had made a few key realizations. First, I don't know my opponents' decks well enough to effectively use hand traps to shut down a combo. Second, many modern decks are relatively unprepared to handle a board-clearing spell. Monster effects are simple to negate and counter with a full board. But spells, maybe not. And third, and this one is the most critical part: having a balanced deck of 50/50 monsters/spells and traps no longer matters. I was taking out a bunch of monsters that would never, ever actually be played to the field, their only point in my deck was to be discarded as a counter; to switch in three copies of Raigeki, three Dark Holes, and two Lightning Storms.

It wasn't a huge tourney, there were eleven other players, for what would end up being three rounds of single elimination. My first game, I played a guy who had some kinda deck full of Dinosaurs and counter trap cards. It was an interesting playstyle I hadn't seen before, but I won that 2-0. Second game, Kashtira. Won the first duel, lost the second, won the third. Third and final game, which I sure didn't expect to get to the finals, was vs Ancient Gears, another deck that prefers to go second. Lost the first game, won the second, and I might have been able to win the third if I hadn't let myself get psyched out. But I'm still pretty pleased with my performance, considering I've lost just about every other match I've played with my new deck 0-2.

The second place prize was a bunch of tournament packs, and first place was as well, plus a free badge for next year. The first place winner let me have his pack pulls, which was nice, I'm still building back up a selection of trades to have available. I didn't really need a free badge for next year anyway since I'm planning on paneling again, and my opponent getting a free badge means we can rematch next year! So honestly, I'm kinda glad I got second.

Also while everyone waited for the tourney to start, everyone was ribbing on one guy for his very expensive deck he was keeping in the world's most basic $3 deckbox, so that was entertaining. Reminded me of the fellas I used to play YGO with at the local library, where there was always some friendly banter back and forth.

After that I hung out with a few more friends, played some Melty Blood, and went home.

Sunday: The traditional day at a con where I play mahjong with the homies until we pack up and go home. I got in one whole game before we took all the tables back to our organizer's car (that took half an hour to find). That wrapped up the event and then I got home and conked out early Sunday evening and most of Monday too. I didn't even do a whole lot of running around or anything, I was just tired.

Also my last few conventions have been so overwhelmingly positive on the whole that I forgot that these events are also frequented by people who are weird in not-fun ways. That last mahjong game, had a fella start spouting off about he hates being referred to as cis, despite being a cis hetero male. I hit him with the "I hate the cis because they are led by the treacherous Count Dooku" and that worked surprisingly well at changing the subject, but it was still, terribly awkward there for a second, especially when another of our club's regulars at the same table is one of the most Gender individuals I know.

Anyway that's probably my last anime con for the year, but there's a new event coming to the area in April I think I'll hit up, excited to see what that's like.

[honourablejester]

I went back to play through Tyrant of Zhentil Keep again, because it’s been a week and I just wanted to relax, and also try playing a sorcerer this time. So I rolled up an aasimar clockwork soul sorcerer name Rilya Manalar, investigator background (she has warm metallic rose gold skin and white hair, because we’re riffing strongly off Mechanus and it goes nicely with the clockwork soul ‘clock hands moving in your eyes when you cast spells’, and also she had goggles of night from the previous book Death Knight’s Squire which I’m picturing as less goggles and more dainty little rimless sunglasses on a silver chain. She’s decidedly less hardboiled PI and much more gentlewoman sleuth). And I set her off into Zhentil Keep.

Some thoughts:

AOEs are a girl’s best friend. When in doubt, thunderwave. People not to gang up on in the cramped hold of a ship while everyone on her side is behind her: a sorcerer with thunderwave.

Flight is also a girl’s best friend. It’s a 3rd level adventure, so Rilya had the aasimar Radiant Soul feature, 1min of flight a day, and she used it to completely cheese a fight with an earth elemental whose longest ranged attack was 60ft. So she just went straight up for three rounds and then picked it off with Chill Touch.

This was partly in vengeance for the previous encounter, which was with a swooping gargoyle, and omg, most annoying fight ever! Not because it did dangerous damage to her, she came out around half hp, but because it just kept picking her up and dropping her 10ft. It had a chance to grapple attack based on a d6 roll, and it got fives and sixes literally every turn, so all it did was swoop, grab, and drop her next turn when it took damage. And she has feather fall, but she also has 6 spell slots total and accidentally booked her whole evening to do two separate sidequests after this, so she can’t spend them. So she’s just taking fall damage the entire time. And avoiding the grab is a Strength save, and she’s a sorcerer, so … yeah. So annoying.

(And yes, I could have had the gargoyle get tired of the game and try different tactics, but I think both the gargoyle and Rilya just got locked into this tunnel vision of it very determinedly trying to grab her and keep her, and Rilya getting dropped repeatedly and wanting to smash its head in as a result, and it was just a battle of attrition between two extremely frustrated enemies who’d tunnelled all the way down to one tactic apiece).

Next note: I love dwarves! One of the sidequests is teaming up with a crippled dwarf investigator and his nephew to rescue some slaves from a ship. He opens the planning session with: much as I would love to do this the dwarf way and just hack our way in there, I think we should have some strategy here. His nephew, immediately upset: Aww! But. Okay. Once we’ve snuck onto the boat, what happens if we get caught before we can find and rescue the kid? Uncle: then you go full dwarf and hack your way out of there. Grabbing the kid en route, of course. Nephew: Yay!

Which we then promptly did, courtesy of the above thunderwave, which bounced a Banite paladin and two slavers off the back wall of the hull, killing one slaver outright. It was very satisfying. Of course, the paladin promptly healed himself almost all the way back to full, because of course he did, but I’m still taking the win.

Moral of the story: strategy first, but when all else fails, always go full dwarf!

I also keep forgetting to cast mage armour, so she’s squeaked through by the skin of her teeth several times now. 12 AC is … not fun. But I was really trying to ration spell slots, because a massive chunk of this adventure is one single day and she has 6 slots total to work with, and I should have cast it that morning with extended spell, because she has that, but I forgot. And then kept going … but what if I need a chaos bolt? Cantrips don’t do pissing damage! So I semi-accidentally played her as a complete glass cannon, where she dished decent damage, but one good hit and she was in deep shit.

But hey! She didn’t die? Mostly because several NPCs brought healing potions, but again. I’ll take it. Heh.

The thing I do notice, though, the more I play the gamebooks/solo adventures, is how much you really do wish there was a live GM. There were so many moments where I’d have liked to do something different, or ask different questions, or see if there was a ruined building I could get into so the gargoyle couldn’t fucking swoop me. You know. Little things. I’d love to see someone run these books with a DM. But. If you’re just wanted an evening to chill by yourself, they’re a good time.

[merlumina]

hi there, tumblr

So after quitting all other social media (twitter, instagram, facebook), I found myself 1) pretty lonely tbh and 2) at a loss for how to keep myself creatively motivated and inspired with nowhere to share my work. I'd heard from several people that tumblr is way more chill these days, and while I hesitated at first, I finally decided to give it a try. After a few weeks of waiting from tech support to regain access to my account (pro tip: don't sign up for anything important with your college email address), I regained access yesterday and spent some time doing some tidying up (i. e. deleting most of my old posts and likes).

So...hi! Feels weird to be back. Life has changed so much in the past seven years. It was interesting going back through old posts to relive those times. Since I was last here, this is what I've been up to:

hollowforest and I got married in 2020. While he was unfortunately not able to propose to me at MAGFest after a particularly victorious round of Gundam Xtreme VS, which would have been rad, we settled for eloping at county jail, which is also a cool story.

Ringo, my cat, is still with us! But now we also have a dog, Haru (named after Persona 5 Haru). Yeah I like dogs now. I like pitt bulls now. 2012 me would never.

After years of self-doubt and self-loathing about my life choices, I actually became what I wanted to be when I grew up - a software developer! In late 2020 I took the plunge to do a coding bootcamp and got really lucky being hired into an apprenticeship program before I'd even graduated. Now I'm making those big coding $$$ working from home, literally living the dream and still kind of in awe.

I joined the Diagnosed with ADHD in My 30s club! (Also, I'm in my 30s now)

We bought a house in October, 2022! I did not think it would be possible for the longest time, but due to the big job upgrade we were finally able to afford it.

I've played a lot of video games, but not beaten that many.

I picked up game dev as a hobby and have made a few small games during game jams.

My mental health is overall a lot better now! Part of that is from therapy, part of that is from self reflection, part of that is maybe just growing up. See also: quitting aforementioned social medias.

Improved mental health aside, my hangups about my artistic abilities and creative capacity still haven't improved any in the past 10 years. It's one of my biggest personal insecurities, but also one of the reasons I'm trying Tumblr again! I wanted somewhere to post my practice routine to keep myself accountable, as well as a place to get inspiration from other artists.

I'm going to make a concerted effort to keep this blog focused on art and personal things that make me happy. After I left Tumblr in 2016 I started working on myself and trying to focus on bringing more empathy into my interactions with others. Whether or not I've been successful at that is another matter, but in general it has helped me be a happier person. I am not interested in participating in Discourse. I don't think you can judge the "goodness" of a human based on a handful of things they've said/done online, and I won't be made to cast judgment on anyone. I think we should spend less time tearing down people in our own communities and more time asking why it's so easy for the people in power to trick us into fighting each other. In general, the overall vibe that everyone's social media account is a personal soapbox where they can make declarations about what is Right and what people Should be doing makes me uncomfortable. So I'm going to try not to do any more of that here. I do like still having those discussions sometimes, but I prefer a more personal venue, where I feel like I'm talking with people rather than at them.

Let's be cool to each other! -Liz / merlumina

[dsandrvk]

Wednesday, May 7 - Dublin and Howth Peninsula

Here this morning

Going

Gone (and replaced)

Howth lighthouse

Golf course crossing on the trail

Baily Lighthouse

Another view of Baily Lighthouse

The third of three Martello towers today

We took the opportunity of having our own breakfast time to sleep in a bit, so had a little later start out to Howth this morning. It's an easy train ride of less than a half hour, and seems a world away. The peninsula, which is almost completely round, is attached to the mainland north of Dublin by a very narrow neck - just wide enough for the train and the road. It's a pretty affluent area, with some lovely large houses, and lots of seafood restaurants. In fact, it seems most people come up here to walk the waterfront a bit and eat, although the trails along the cliffs are quite popular, too

We had our choice of four trails, which all cover the same ground for the first four kilometers or so - a walk along the waterfront, then a sidewalk with no views up a steep street to the start of the cliff walks, and finally a dirt trail with views. When we got to the point where three trails headed back inland, we opted to take the fourth, which stayed along the cliffs for several more kilometers before heading north to the starting point. This was also the longest trail, at over 12 kilometers. We were immediately treated to much better views of Baily Lighthouse from the sunlit side, and we lost about 90% of the walkers.

From here the trail went up and down a bit more, twice getting down to sea level before heading back up to the shoulder of Ben Howth, the high point on the peninsula. We eventually crossed the "Bog of Frogs", which was the name of the trail, but heard no amphibians, and also crossed a golf course. We finally came down through a residential neighborhood right to the train station.

It was perfect timing, too, because the next train was in seven minutes. Only problem is, they announced that it had hit a car, or had a mechanical problem (it was confusing), so was delayed an additional 25 minutes, which conveniently was when the next train was scheduled to arrive. Since it was now late afternoon, the train was very crowded, but we managed to get seats, which we appreciated after about 8 miles of walking.

We got back to our room to discover that the mural on the rooftop wall across from us had been transformed. We had noticed the colorful ad last night, and then this morning I saw a guy with a big paint roller on the roof, so we watched as he proceeded to cover it up with a new color. Tonight it's a lot plainer and we wonder if they will be adding something in the blank space to our right.

The views on our hike were pretty amazing, as we could see Ireland's Eye, the little island just north of Howth (Martello Tower number 1), and later on another ruin of a church and Martello Tower number 2, above the town. As we came around past the Baily Lighthouse, Dublin came into view, as well as the Wicklow Mountains, and finally Martello Tower number 3, protecting Dublin from the north. We also saw several ferries heading across the Irish Sea to Holyhead in Wales. We were lucky to have a warm, sunny, quite clear day with great visibility.

Tomorrow we have a Dublin Castle tour booked with our Heritage cards for noon, and will do a little exploring on the way there, then pick up our bags afterwards and head to our ship. Part two of our trip is almost over.

[msbarrybeeson]

Before You Go | Future Leo X GN!Reader (Part V)

A/N: This is legit the longest part yet. How time flies when I write. Any constructive criticism is appreciated. To be honest, reader feedback boosts my motivation to write anything in the first place.

Summary: You’re both adopting-parents of Casey. After years of being raised in an underground base, seven-year-old Casey got to finally see the overgrounds. Bunch of fluff and family interactions.

Reader: Gender-neutral pronouns are used, except the terms “(Mama / Papa)” are also used. Second POV.

Pairing: Rise! Future! Leonardo X Reader

Warnings: None.

Word Count:  ~3660

Parts: One / Two / Three / Four / Five / ...

~

“Woo! Let’s go Leo!”

Beneath the surface was a battle, surrounded by refugees onlooking their leader, Master Leonardo, against one of Big Mama’s top fighters.

Cheers boomed and echoed the cavern. It was supposed to be a practice round for Leo to better his swordsmanship. Alas, nothing could stop the interest of spectators.

Leo leaped over a giant shuriken being flung at him, making his way right at his opponent. Right when he managed to get close, a hammer smashed him into the ground. Dust and dirt flying from the impact.

The crowd groaned, feeling the phantom pain.

You stood high above in a ledge, watching alongside Leo’s brothers and April. You couldn’t help but wince, worried that all these battles might do your blue wrong if the Kraang ever discovered your base. 

In fact, shouldn’t anyone be concerned at the slightest that the Kraang might hear the commotion? All caution was thrown out the window. You hadn’t even realize Donnie had all the time in his world to build an arena. 

..He hadn’t happened to bother the DIGG band to do this, did he?

In your peripheral vision, a short figure hopped up and down next to you.

“(Mama / Papa)! You promised to take me above!” Casey whined. Though his patience was running low, his youthful curiousity was on high.

“I’m aware. But just be a bit more patient,” you assured. “Your father’s having a big show right now. He’s fighting one of Big Mama’s strongest.”

His eyes glimmered. The seven-year-old hopped again, wanting to see past the ledge. He always had a big interest for fighters and becoming a skilled one. Did he know how? He wasn’t sure at the moment. 

“Really!? I wanna see, I wanna see!”

He yelped as Raph picked him up and sat him on his shoulders. “Gosh, Casey, you’ve got to chill out. Papa’s not goin’ anywhere.” The snapping turtle grinned. “Seeing things better now?”

“Thanks, Uncle Raph!”

The audience roared loudly again. Leo swiped his ōdachi to open up multiple portals. He leaped across from one to another to another. Making a strike. Yes, Leo’s challenger was much larger, strength incomprehensible even, but could they match his speed?

You smiled, seeing Casey in absolute awe.

“You can do it, Papa!” he yelled.

Leo jumped onto one of his opponent’s many arms. His form front-flipping to slash the head. Moments passed and a gash sent the fighter recoiling.

To top it off, he opened a portal underneath them, before another one appeared high above. This time, he anchored his ōdachi in the dirt. He gave his wrists a few twists. And as Big Mama’s fighter fell through.. Leo took a swing and—!

WHHIIIRROOSH!

A heavy wave. A burst of wind. A strong blast from Leo’s contact with his opponent went and knocked everyone off their balance!

Some chunks of the ledge you and your friends were standing in even broke off.

.

.

.

The stunned crowd erupted into cheers. Casey was leaning off of Raph’s head, wide eyes and beaming astonishment on his face. 

“WOW, THAT’S SO COOL!” 

Raph, on the other hand, felt cold sweat the moment he had his own balance faltering from the kid’s movement. “Woah woah! Easy there!”

“Let’s go, baby!” Mikey jumped. “There’s our Leee-oh!”

April examined the knackered ledge. “Yeesh! If he was any stronger, Big Mama’s fighter ain’t gonna be the only one going down.” 

“A safety hazard?” Donnie was appalled. “Great.. another thing for my agenda..”

A quick sigh of relief fell from your lips and you laughed. “Okay okay, you guys. Casey’s been waiting for his time above-ground. Let’s get Leo before we head up.”

.

.

.

“Don’t get too worked up, Big Mama.” Leo smirked. “It’s all just practice.”

The old Spider yōkai huffed. “Yes yes. I was simply hoping that it could’ve been just a tad more entertaining of a show..” She turned her head to her knocked-out fighter, laying against the wall of the arena. “Unfortunate it is to have my Champion thrown off his feet with ease— do you not have other turtley-doos partaking? Perhaps the orange one would do nicely.”

Leo let out a laugh. “Unfortunately, for you, Big Mama, we got another schedule going for today. So how ‘bout you give us a call.. a week later. Sound good?”

“Bu—.”

“Muy bien. ¡Adiós!” He waved.

“Papa!” Leo saw Casey running. He opened his arms for the boy to catch a hug. “You were so cool, Papa! You were like: swish, swash, woosh!”

“You guys were watching me!?” He seemed embarrassed.

“Hello? You got a whole ass arena here, and you think we wouldn’t check out all this screaming going on?”

“Tsk. I mean, I would’ve continued on with my projects if only Mikey and April didn’t drag me outside my lab,” Donnie spoke monotonously.

Leo then faced you.

“Wasn’t he cool, (Mama / Papa)!”

You only grinned, arms crossed. “Yes, sweetheart. He was so cool.. as expected of the greatest ninja I’ve ever known.” A flush of red caught Leo’s face as he coughed into his scarf, and everyone else being mildly amused.

“L-Let’s get moving everyone.”

“Now, child, it’s imperative for you to know that you shouldn’t be all too excited about traversing above-ground,” Donnie lectured, while the group arrived by the elevating system. “I assume your Papa and (Mama / Papa) told you about the Kraang?”

“Yes, Uncle Don!”

“Good. Be aware you are always at risk of being caught in their sight. One detected motion and they could be running here—.”

“Why do we have a ladder when we could just use this thing?”

“That’s a ridicu— I mean, good question, Casey.” Donnie saved himself. “The way up the ladder is far more narrow, a better option if you want to exit the base in a more discreet method. What we’re using can take multiple beings at the same time. 

A big risk in return, however, is that we can easily be spotted. When we reach the top, you’ll see that this Eleva-Don has a dome covered in rock and soil.”

“To camoflauge?”

“Hm.. Can’t necessarily consider it camoflauge, but sure, the purpose is to hide the entrance to this base.”

.

.

“How long does it take to go up?”

“..Now that you mentioned it,” Raph wondered. “Shouldn’t we be up a minute ago?”

Donnie hummed. “..Give me a moment— my bad, I forgot I had implemented another button to push, because some morons kept forgetting their equipment.”

The group reached the entrance. It was like the purple’s description. There was a sturdy dome over and a sealed doorway being the only thing separating Casey’s eyes from the outside world. But he had to admit: he felt a bit nervous. His small hand took yours, and you tightened your grip to comfort the boy.

Leo stepped on the other side of Casey, eyes narrowing.

“Casey, before I open the entrance, you must brace yourself,” Donnie warned. “There are hot winds blowing and dry air outside. Move your eyes away from any flying dust too. 

In fact, be quick to cover your eyes. You’re not used to the light.

..Do you understand?”

“Yes, Uncle Don.”

The hinges turned. And as told, a bright light beamed through and the boy had to clasp his hands over. It was blinding, especially for someone who had spent his whole life in dim undergrounds. 

It took a long while. 

He felt the winds drying the moisture off his skin, even the sweat he released.. Bit by bit, Casey’s fingers separated. His sights eventually adjusted to seeing his shoes. Then, from side to side upon his parents’ footwear. Then, some prickly brush nearby. 

And then.. the horizon.

He didn’t know what to expect. He heard all the recreations from his uncles and aunt. He heard more from the refugees. They all said the same thing: red skies and dried.

However, somehow, this was more than he could’ve dreamt of.

There were skeletons, bones of different kinds on the ground. Large boulders to play hide and seek in. Flying cotton balls to make a snow ball.

Casey looked back at the horizon. There afar was a giant city. Broken, yet it was still a magnificent city in his mind. Tall skyscrapers were shattered in half, ragged edges remained.

But his amazement stopped at the sky, bloody-colored skies and dark clouds. Right above New York City was a floating.. ship of some sort. It looked like that one yōkai’s eyeball, always plopping out and back in.

The boy cowered behind your leg. 

He tugged onto your hand. “Hey (Mama / Papa)?” You looked down. “I thought you said you found bunch of things and food here. Why is it so empty?”

“Empty?”

“Yeah.”

“..It might look like that. But I promise you, Casey, there’s more to it than meets the eye. It’s been many years away, so expect that a lot is buried in sand and dirt.” You began leading him. “Come along.”

“..That’s.. kind of boring. What about fighting Kraang and stuff?”

“Hm.. You know..” You just noticed: there were barely monsters in your area. Could they have gone to the city? Best of luck to the others going then.

“How can you find anything?”

“That’s easy,” Mikey spoke up. “The best way is to catch a glimmer, some sort of sparkle on the ground. Sometimes, you’ll find something valuable.”

“..Oh! Like this?” The boy picked up an empty plastic chip bag. Mikey deadpanned.. and cleared his throat. “My poor boy, of course not. That’s useless trash.” For a moment, Doctor Delicate Touch came out. He snatched it away and threw it behind him.

“If you see anything more like that, toss it right behind you. Or even better, don’t pick it up. Trust me, it’ll save you so much time.” 

Casey slumped. This wasn’t the finders-keepers experience he was... He shook his head. Whatever, he should just follow you instead—.

Another sparkle in the distance. This one gleamed brighter than that chip bag.

He glimpsed around. You were a couple of feet away. Mikey disappeared. His Papa in a couple of feet in the opposite direction. The red-eared turtle appeared to be casting his gaze at the landscape, arms crossed. The others? Didn’t follow their path.

At least, he had his parents.

The boy moved closer. It was in an open box? There was some really smooth-looking cloth on the inside. Cushioned in it, there was.. a long necklace.. He recognized what a necklace should look be, many refugees had one of their own to cherish. 

Oh, hold on.. there were two necklaces?

He examined the pendant. Shiny. Silver-like. It looked like a heart, except there seemed to be a gash right in the middle. “Oh..” 

It was broken..

.

.

An idea lit up.

Casey took the box, brushing off the sediment, closed it, and shoved it down one of his pockets. Maybe Uncle Don could help him.

“Oho? What do you have there, Case?” He flinched when he heard his father from behind. “Don’t think I didn’t see that.”

“Don’t scare me, Papa!”

“Pfft. You’re just like (Mama / Papa).”

The boy fiddled his fingers, before reaching back into the pocket. He pulled out the box. “I found this necklace.. but.. it’s broken. I thought Uncle Don might fix it!”

Leo took the box from his hands. He chuckled.

“It’s not a broken necklace, buddy. These are couple necklaces.”

“Couple necklaces?”

“They can be two separate ones.. Put them together though..” Leo clicked the two halves in place. “..And they become a whole.”

“They look.. a lot shinier together!” Casey admired.

“Yeah.” Leo’s eyes squinted as he smiled. “It does, doesn’t it?”

“What about ‘friendship’ necklaces? Are those any different?”

The red-eared turtle blinked. He realized he assumed these were meant for couples. Maybe it was because everything that came in pairs reminded him of he and—.

“Oh, I have an idea!” Casey proposed, grabbing the box from Leo’s hand. He faced himself in your direction. “Maybe these can be for you and (Ma / Pa)—mmrph!”

“Hm?” Your head turned towards them. “Did you two call me?”

“Uh! No no!” Leo frantically waved his hand off. “We didn’t say anything.. at all! You can keep doing your own thing, (Name).”

Blinked once, twice. You shrugged, eyes down on the ground.

Leo sighed, releasing his other hand from the kid’s mouth. “Bah! Papa! What was that for? Don’t you show (Mama / Papa) about this? They’ll love it a lot!”

“Shh shh.. I’m sure they will, Case. But.. I have another idea on how we can show them. Okay?” The red-eared turtle proceeded to whisper into the boy’s ear, hoping you wouldn’t catch it if you tried.

The seven-year-old clasped his mouth, eyes sparkling. He nodded his head.

.

.

“Find anything, (Name)?” April asked, the group rendezvousing.

You sighed. “Only packets of vegetable seeds.”

“Hey, more food, the better.”

“Let’s just hope Todd will be able to work his magic on them.”

“Knowin’ he raised who-knows-how-many puppies back then, m’sure he could handle a couple of plants.”

“What about you?”

“The city’s tough to get through as ever. We only got a couple of blankets and scraps of metal for Don. You didn’t come to the city?”

“With a child who barely knows how to nagivate out here?”

“Point taken. How’s the kid doing?”

“..I.. I think he likes the rummaging.” 

“Why’d you hesitate to say that? Giving me a scare for a sec.” April laughed behind her hand. “That’s good, that’s good. Gives ‘nother reason for him to go out more.”

“Just as long as he watches himself.”

“Have some faith in him, (Name).”

“Of course.” You closed your eyes. “Commander O’Neil.”

“H-Hey!” She wrapped her arm around your neck, while you laughed. “Thought I said I don’t want my own friends calling me that.”

“Do you not like it?” 

“Yeah I do, but..” April pulled away and rubbed her arm. “I don’t want you guys to forget what we all were before.”

Your breath paused.

She continued, “We were all close friends. If we start calling each other these formalities, I.. don’t know how different we’ll treat each other.”

“...”

“Man.” April almost felt her eyes sting. “Young me wouldn’t be this emotional over some title. Only in our late twenties, and we’re already talkin’ like we’re gonna die.”

You chuckled. “This world’s making us old, isn’t it?”

“Sure is..” 

Your friend slowly faced the base entrance. “Guess we better return. Boys! Let’s head back!” she called out. They moved along, except for Leo and Casey. They stood in place and gave a knowing look at each other.

You raised an eyebrow.

“Leo! Casey!” April shouted again, only to be stopped by Donnie. He pushed her off, whispering something in her ear. Raph, strolling behind and past you, tapped your shoulder. Then, Mikey winked.

You were confused.

What was going on?

“(Name),” your blue called, signalling for you to come with them. “Casey and I got something to show you.”

They led to a short hill, where the three of you sat watching the horizon. The whole world might’ve changed dramatically, sunrises and sets still exist.

“Vegetable seeds weren’t the only thing you found, was it.”

“How perceptive.” You snorted. “No.. there was something else. When we walked further an hour ago, there was something I recognize..”

You pulled out something wrapped in a brown cloth and unwapped it.

It was.. Cassandra’s hockey stick.

Leo’s eyes widened. “You.. No way..”

“I can’t believe it was intact after many years..” You teared up, holding the stick close to your chest. “I thought it disappeared with her..”

“..She probably dropped it, switching to her hyperbeam guns..,” Leo guessed. “You chose not to tell April?”

“Hey.. I get emotional talking about anything related to Cassandra to anyone else. You’re the only other guy who knew exactly what happened anyway..”

Casey was perplexed. 

He tugged onto the blue scarf. “..Papa? Why’s (Mama / Papa) crying over a.. wooden stick? Who is she talking about?”

“Don’t ask me, buddy. Your (Mama / Papa) knows this person a lot more than I do.”

You moved your arm, pulling the boy close to you. “Casey.. There’s something I’ve been meaning to tell you for a while..” You gazed down at him. “Did you know you have another parent?”

“...”

Casey was absolutely shocked, flabbergasted, open jaw and wide eyes.

Meanwhile, Leo was dying on the inside. You couldn’t help but laugh as well. “Heyy! Are you trying to joke around?” 

“Sorry sorry. I didn’t mean to laugh,” you quieted down. “But it’s true.”

You pulled out a photograph. There was you, Leo, and everyone else.. except for an unfamiliar woman with piercings and a paler complexion in darker clothing. Casey took a closer look. “She’s also my Mom?”

“Yes, she is.”

Casey then glared at Leo, who was taken aback by the kid’s offended expression. “..(Mama / Papa),” he not-so-quietly whispered. “..Did Papa cheat on you?”

The red-eared turtle coughed hard. He was ready to argue, charge at the boy for even thinking he would do that to you. Where did he even learn the concept of cheating? Those gossiping girls who somehow remembered everything from their high school career?

“Hey—!”

“Don’t worry, he may seem like the kind, but he would never.” You teasingly smiled, testing Leo. “You actually have two fathers.”

“How come he isn’t in the photo?”

“..He just.. doesn’t like pictures.”

“Oh.”

“Mhm.”

“What about other Mom? How come I’ve never seen her?”

You sighed. “Casey.. You know how sometimes Papa and I go out to make sure no Kraang comes near us?”

“Yeah?”

“Do you miss us when we’re gone?”

The boy fiddled his fingers. “Even though Uncle Mikey.. Uncle Raph.. Auntie April.. and sometimes Uncle Don take good care of me, I still wish you were there with me.”

“And we miss you too.” You tightened your embrace. “That’s because we love you, Casey. We are both always worried that something can happen and we won’t be there to help you. 

But we also have a job to do for everyone, to make sure we are all safe.”

“..Is that why other Mom is not here?”

“Correct. But that doesn’t mean she doesn’t love you. In fact, she was willing to fight the whole world to make sure you’re in good hands.” You tapped his chest. “She had to fight the Kraang too. She knew she won’t be able to see you for a long time. Because she loves you so much, she wants only the most capable to raise you.”

“...It’s okay, (Mama / Papa). You don’t have to say it like that.”

You felt yourself freeze.

“I’m growing up. I can handle it,” Casey assured. “..Is she up in the stars?”

“..She is.”

His arms wrapped around your back and Leo’s shell. “Well.. In my heart, you’ll always be my (Mama / Papa) and Papa to me. Nothing will ever change how much I love you.”

You inhaled, struggling to keep a stoic face.

Leo covered half of his face in his scarf. In the end, even he couldn’t hide his feelings. He decided to give you both a sudden big hug himself. “Gah! Come here, you two! You really know how to make a grown man cry.”

“Ah, Leo! You’re.. hurting.. our lungs..!” In reluctance, the turtle released you. “Look what happened, your Papa’s turning into an sobbing mess.”

“This was a heartwarming moment for me, (Name). Don’t you dare judge.”

Casey bit his lip. This was when he made his move.

“Oooh. Did you know Papa can also turn into romance?”

Leo froze.

“Hey hey, hold on there, buddy..” A nervous chuckle. “Couldn’t you give a cue? We’re.. doing this right now, no warning?” 

“But this was your plan!” Casey countered. “Stand up, both of you!” You followed along. The hockey stick set aside for now. At this point, better not to ask more questions.

“(Mama / Papa).. Papa says he has something special to show you.” The boy gave Leo a box.. Indiscreet as he was, he tried. A grin appeared on his face when he scurried off behind a nearby rock.

“So.. I’m guessing this had to be related to my name called back there.” You put your hands on your hips.

“He’s still learning his social cues. He’ll get his self-awareness from me, you’ll see.” Leo cleared his throat. “Anyways.. (Name).. it’s been a long time since we got together. Even longer when we first met.. say about twelve years ago. 

Gotta admit.. first impressions weren’t special.

You were just another high school kid. You were the second human I know to ever like hanging out with us mutants. You just seemed like another person to me.

But you were.. considerate.. kind. I wasn’t used to having someone actually listening to me, ‘cause we were all idiots back then. The gang and I would only fool around, bite each other and all.

It wasn’t until you.. said something.. Those words to me..” He felt his hand reaching out. 

You took it in both of yours. There was a light in your eyes. You remembered exactly what that moment was. Your voice slipped, 

“..You have always been my champion..”

Leo’s grip tightened as he immediately went down on both knees. “No one.. no one’s ever said that to me... I couldn’t help it anymore. 

I couldn’t help looking your way every time you were there.

As much as I hate to swallow my pride, I couldn’t help but act all cool and badass whenever you’re looking.. even though most times didn’t work out so well.

You were the only one who believed in me.. and I knew it has to be you.”

Then, Leo released your hands. He took the box out and opened it. “I know it isn’t an overrated ring.. but..” The two heart halves revealing themselves on separate chains.

“(Name).. Will you.. marry me?” 

.

.

.

“..Yes.” You were tearing up again. “Yes! But..!” 

His heart suddenly chipped itself off. That last word was never assumed to be a good sign. “Is there something wrong? ..God.. did I do this too soon?”

You, though, were trying not to snicker. “No no. It’s just.. you’re supposed to propose on one knee, Leo! Not both!”

“They chose to question that over the whole ‘apocalypse proposal’?” Donnie muttered to the others. “How does anyone even consider that as romantic?”

“Donnie, shut your aro-ace ass.” 

Your blue turned red. Embarassed, his face was flushed. He groaned, “Not the teasing right now. Is being the only person to get me on both not enough for you?” 

“Hm. We’ll just have to see how we do in bed.”

Leo choked. 

“WHAT—.”

“(NAME), NOT IN FRONT OF THE KID!” Raph screamed.

[dreamifics]

If you're comfortable writing this, you don't have to...

Will you write Steve Harrington x fem!reader smut? Like reader is finishing up some homework, laying on their bed (not anything big, just a small assignment) and he's horny asf, but reader has been teasing him all day, wearing small ass shorts and shit around their apartment, etc. So he's all sorts of fucked up, but she won't quit teasing him, and she knows she is teasing him and shit. So he all starts to fuck her while she's laying face down on the bed and shit.

Just some nasty smut with hs graduate (not like au or anything) fucking reader face down.

Jesus that was nasty.

Hope u like this, I'm still new to writing smut so this might be not that nice. Hope u send a request again! Have a great and loving day!

Steve Harrington x Fem!Reader

Warning: smut, cursing, smut, smut

It was a very special day, well for Y/N, for Steve not so much. She and Steve had a small bet about who can go the longest without sex and Y/N knew she had this in the bag. She has been teasing Steve all day, wearing the sexiest clothes she was even wearing the red lipstick that Steve loves so much.

Y/N smiled to herself, contented with what she did today, she was now just laying in bed, doing her homework while waiting for Steve to get home.

Soon enough, she heard the door opened and a frustrated Steve walked into the door. You can see the anger flickering in his eyes, it only brought satisfaction to Y/N.

"What are you doing?" Steve closed his eyes, taking a deep breath when he saw her. Y/N was teasing him and it was fucking working. His eyes were burning with lust, she wanted to fuck Y/N with every movement she makes.

"I'm doing school works, my professor gave us two weeks' worth of homework." Y/N mumbled, her eyes fixated on the paper she's working on. This only added fuel to fire burning inside Steve, he always love seeing Y/N study and it turned him on.

"I know what you're doing now, I'm asking about today when you were teasing me."

"What teasing? I just wanted to look good." Y/N teased, she finally looked up and saw the lust in his eyes. She's not gonna lie, it was also turning her on but she won't back down that easy. Y/N was always competitive, even if it's just a stupid bet.

Steve was infuriated but at this point, he didn't care anymore, he moved closer to Y/N and took a seat next to her. He grazed his fingers on her neck down to her back sending shivers down Y/N's spine. He started kissing her neck this action ignites something within Y/N, she has always love neck kisses, it was a sweet way to start.

"You're going to lose our bet..." She closed her eyes, relaxing at the warmth of Steve's lips. All she wanted right now is Steve admitting his defeat.

"You win, I don't care about that." Y/N smiled, turning her back on her bed, she looks at a lust-driven Steve.

"Steve, as much as I badly want this, I'm still studying, let's do this later when I'm done." She smiled comforting, her homework was due tomorrow and she needed to finish it. She wants this, but sadly priorities have to come first. However, Steve didn't listen, his hands were still wandering in her stomach almost reaching her breast.

"No one said you can't multitask, right?" His voice changed, it was sultry and low, it turned her on so much that all she wanted was to drop out of school.

"Y-Yeah." That was all she could say, a smirk appeared on Steve's face as he connected his lips with hers. The taste of Steve welcomed Y/N, his tongue made its way inside her mouth. It danced with her own, it was in rhythm with the beat of her heart, her nipples hardening at how good a kisser Steve is. Her thigh was tightening and tightening as Steve's tongue makes a move. He pulled away from the kiss and flip Y/N on her stomach, her face was pressed against the soft mattress, she can feel Steve pinning her down. Y/N can feel Steve's hard cock pressing on her ass.

"Just relax and do your homework, Y/N." He whispered in her ears, she can feel the heat of his breath and it was making her crazy. Like she could do her homework at this state, she couldn't help but roll her eyes.

Steve's hand linger outside of her shorts, she breathed fast and hard. No guy has ever made her feel this way, Steve was the only one who can make her crazy in love.

Soon enough, his one hand slipped inside her shorts, sliding his fingers inside her. A muffled moan was all she could muster, his fingers went in and out of her.

"You're so wet." She heard Steve mutter, a small smile painted on Y/N's lips. His other hand made its way to her breast, massaging it like there's no tomorrow.

The fingers weren't enough to keep Y/N hunger satisfied, he wanted Steve inside him not just his fingers. Steve seems to read her mind because soon enough he pulled the shorts and her lace panties clean off her skin.

Steve touches her bare ass, the excitement rushed through his body. The same feeling he felt when he first fucked Y/N for the first time was still there. He loves her, and everything she does still surprises him.

"We've been together for years but you still have that damning effect on me.'' Y/N just smirked at the comment Steve made.

He stroked Y/N's bare pussy with his dick, dragging it in her slit and ass. And just like that he thrust his hips between Y/N's thighs, Y/N let out a deafening moan giving satisfaction to Steve. His thick cock slid inside her, burying it inside her wet pussy.

The moans Y/N let out sounded like music to Steve's ear, with every thrust that he makes, the deeper he goes. Y/N gripped the bedsheets as tight as she could like her life depended on it. Y/N soon rides every thrust Steve makes, causing him to moan and thrust harder inside her.

"You're so tight." He growled low, this only added fuel to the fire inside Y/N.

He thrust, forcing Y/N to let out a whimper, he continued to pound and thrust her. The pace suddenly went faster and harder, the feeling of him going inside and out of her was too much to take. Y/N pressed her face hard on the mattress, she didn't want any neighbors to hear her moans and screams.

He fucked harder and harder, the sensation in Y/N's stomach is eating her alive over and over. Pleasure built between them, their muscles were burning, Y/N was on the brink of orgasm.

It build and build until it finally took over her, exploding like the skies on the fourth of July. She squeezed her eyes shut, her face buried so deep in the mattress, she let him fuck her as orgasm flowed between the two of them. She was soon clouded with dopamine and oxytocin. Y/N went weak, her hands no longer gripping the sheets.

Steve didn't stop, though, he was still thrusting but this time it was slow and his arms tightened around my body, and suddenly a warm liquid came out of him, it flowed down her throbbing pussy.

Steve fell in her, his cock still inside her. Their heavy breaths filled the room, she can feel the sweat of Steve dripping on her. Y/N closes her tired eyes, Steve moved and pulled from her. He laid beside her, Y/N sensed this and she also moved and laid on his chest.

This was always their routine, after the hard and tiring sex, they always cuddle next to each other even if they were angry with each other.

"Study, my ass." Steve mutters, she couldn't help but laugh at his remark.

"Well, someone distracted me." Steve chuckled, she can feel the rise of his chest, causing her to blush. It was always nice making Steve laughs, it's the most satisfying thing in this world.

"Who? Me? I'm distracting?" He asked innocently, he was fishing for compliments and Y/N knew this. She faces Steve and smiled dearly.

"Yes, you and your pretty big hair." Steve smiled lovingly at her as he pressed his lips into her. This kiss was just light and sweet, still, it was full of adoration and love. They both pulled back, Y/N laid back on Steve's chest, listening to his pacing heartbeat that was slowly calming down.

"You know we're not done yet, right?"  Y/N giggled and rolled her eyes, she just let out a playful groan. The two just laid with each other, staring at the ceiling. Soon, another round started...

Please like and reblog, if you guys have any requests, you can send me an ask or comment!

[no-droids]

Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

(gif credit to @redwyyne-archive)

Part One of The Bet series

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary:

1. No sex.

2. No touching yourself.

3. No orgasms.

Warnings/Tags: DUBCON/NONCON elements, fuckboy Poe (OOC), Enemies to Lovers, degradation/humiliation, mentions of oral sex, SMUUUTTTTTTTT also I’m not sorry for what I did but you’re not allowed to read if you’re gonna get mad at me okay byeeee

***

This.

This shit, right here.

If the question was ever, “What’s the stupidest fucking thing you’ve ever let Poe Dameron somehow talk you into doing?” then the answer is this stupid shit, right the fuck here.  This is like.  You remember that one game, Mercy?  The one where you’d dig your nails in and twist arms and just needlessly inflict pain on each other as children until one of you cried uncle because someone somewhere once decided to turn torture into a matter of pride?

You always thought those games were fucking ridiculous.  Who can hold their breath the longest, who can handle a lit deathstick against their flesh the longest, who can take the hardest punch—who cares?  It’s child’s play.  It’s self-inflicted agony for the sake of bragging rights and even as a youngling, you refused to fall for it.

But then you met… fucking Dameron.

You know those people that… they don’t just rub you the wrong way, but literally every single aspect about their personality is sandpaper against wet skin and your whole entire being feels chafed raw just by existing in their general vicinity for an extended period of time?

You’re… you’re not usually a competitive—much less aggressive person.  You never have been.  It’s just not part of your nature.  If you ever excel at anything in life, it isn’t because of some secret, deep-seated desire to win or be better than anyone else.  You just… do you.  You do whatever you do, and if it’s good, it’s good.  And if it’s bad, it’s good.  Because at the end of the day at least it’s still you, and you’re okay with that.

But this?

This shit?  Right here?

“This is fucking dumb,” you say, because you know it’s what you both must be thinking so you may as well just get it out in the open.  “This is the dumbest fucking thing, Dameron.  What are we doing?  Why are we doing this?”

The grumpy, orange-jumpsuited figure sitting behind you just sighs heavily and slumps even further down in his bucket seat, as if it isn’t the first time you’ve tried asking this incredibly valid question (it totally is), bringing a palm down to thunk the top of the guidance controls between his legs in a quiet irritation you’re almost certain has everything to do with the very topic you’re trying to bring up. 

“Because,” comes that infuriating drawl.  You can only see his face from this angle by looking at his reflection in the transparisteel barrier directly in front of you, but even just imagining the way his mouth moves while he rounds out the words makes your jaw clench.  “The coordinates we picked up were scrambled and this rendezvous could be going down at any one of thirty-six locat—?”

“No,” you interrupt him with a scowl, “not why I’ve been floating in dead space in this Maker-forsaken ship with you for eight fucking hours a day since… fuck, what’s today?  Thursday?  Friday?  Nope, can’t be Friday, Friday’s our off-day.  Thursday, then. …Thursday?”  You shake your head.  “Ugh, see?  Time doesn’t exist when I’m not allowed to cum, life is like one never-ending nightmare.”

“Oh.”  He takes a second to think about it in silence, the calloused tips of his fingers scratching the side of his face while he considers.  It wouldn’t usually be as loud as it is right now.  Maybe it’s the haunting quiet of space surrounding the ancient powered down hunk of metal you’re both stuck in, inadvertently isolating and amplifying the sound—or maybe it’s because your copilot’s jaw is currently covered in a thick, dark beard that you swear barely took his testosterone-overloaded ass a fucking week or two to grow, if that.  Regardless, the dark bristles crunch loudly under his short fingernails and it takes you about a grand total of five whole uninterrupted seconds of the scraping sound to realize you’re grinding your teeth along with it.  “Well,” he finally says, “that was your stupid idea.”

“Hmmmmmmmno,” you contest firmly, wiggling your elbow back to poke at his shin with your index finger once, twice, thrice, until he finally slaps your hand away in quiet irritation.  To the misfortune of you both—and likely the other hundred or so pilots concurrently taking rotating shifts in these tandem x-wings in a glorified mass stakeout, the cockpit of this ship is just way too fucking small.  Your arm is squeezed uncomfortably against machinery and electronics to get to him from this angle and a light slap isn’t going to stop you now that you’re here.  “You—” (poke) “—have a superiority complex and decided to turn it into a competition, not—” (poke) “—me.”

“Oh, I have a superiority complex, okay,” he scowls and nods in vehement, fake agreement, finally giving up and letting you poke at will, but the appeal is lost as soon as you realize he’s over it and your arm eases back into your lap.  You watch his reflection look out of the viewport and scan the empty void of space for the twentieth time in the past five minutes, clearly just as desperate to get back to base as you are.  “So what is it you call saying—wait, no no, not even saying, loudly declaring—‘Of course I can go longer without sex than “wham bam thank you ma’am” Dameron, you brainless fucks, it’s a simple fact!’”

“Alright—I don’t sound like that, fuck you very much,” you return, in reference to his shrieking, high-pitched impression of you surrounded by your fellow pilots in the rec room when you’ve had a bit too much to drink.   “Also, you don’t have to finger-quote literally every single syllable of my fucking sentence, Dameron.  First and last word, that’s all it takes.  And if it’s so superiority complex-ey of me to state simple facts, then what is it you call saying ‘betcha two weeks worth of pay you can’t, pretty baby’?”

“Uh, easy credits?”  He immediately asks, side-eyeing your reflection through the transparisteel.  “ Easy credits.  Just begging for it.  Two weeks of your slutty, sexy, easy fucking credits just begging to be taken and used— ”

“You need to get laid,” you cut in to tell him bluntly, scrunching your nose in what you hope looks like disgust.  As per protocol, the power to the x-wing was cut at the beginning of your shift—what feels like a fucking eternity ago—as a preventative maneuver in case the target falls out of hyperspace unexpectedly.  Avoiding the scanners of a fleet that may never actually show means it’s cold and dimly lit in here—just starlight in front of either you, but you’re hoping he can gauge the severity of your revulsion with your back to him.  “You just turned my money into a sex object.  It was vile.  I feel violated on its behalf.”

“Sounds like you’re the one who needs to get laid,” he tosses carelessly back at you, and you roll your eyes with as much sass as you can physically muster, so tired of all the dodging.  You know this hasn’t been easy for him either, he just has too much pride to admit it.  “Besides, you’ve gotta be past the withdrawal stage by now.  Is it really all that bad?”

“The fuck you mean, ‘Is it really all that bad’?”  You snap at him, shuffling around grumpily in your seat, hating the way the bulky weapons controls sit right between your thighs and prevent you from closing them.  Withdrawal stage, ha.   “Of course it’s all that bad.  It’s horrible.  It’s the fucking worst.  And more importantly, how are you not having any trouble with this?  Oh, wait—that’s right,” you answer yourself before he has a chance to.  “Because you cheated.”

“I did not cheat,” Dameron’s reflection immediately challenges with an accusatory finger pointed at you.  “I did not.  When the fuck did I cheat?  I swapped housing assignments with your shitty roommate and slept in the bunk below yours for a month and a half—all because you don’t believe in the honor system—just so you could tell me I fucking cheated?”

You scoff, feeling your annoyance spark even more.  He’s always been able to get under your skin, but the neglect you’ve been forcing your body to endure is just throwing gasoline on an already roaring fire.  “Okay, first of all?  Rude.  I am a fucking joy to have as a roomie, alright?  I put up with your snoring, your 2:00 AM dinners, you blasting your radio while I’m trying to sleep, I barely complain about your body odor—”

“My snoring is adorable, I get snacky at night, only sad people with fucked up lives hate music, I smell amazing,” Dameron casually lists off on his fingers, the self-confidence so easy and unshakeable that you swear he’s almost preening at the compliments he just gave himself by the time he’s finished rebutting everything you can think to throw at him.  And, while you’d never admit it, he does smell good.  He smells… unbelievably fucking good.  Always.  Something dark and woodsy, you can never quite put your finger on.  It pisses you off, so much that you’ve made a habit of pulling a face of disgust whenever the warm, rich scent noticeably reaches you, hoping it deflates his ego just a little bit.  No such luck so far.  

“Whatever.  The point is I’m a good fucking neighbor, alright, I’m neighborly as fuck,” you grumble, crossing your arms over your chest defensively.  “And don’t make it sound like I’m putting a chastity lock on your balls every night, because you can fuck anyone you want.  In fact, I strongly fucking encourage it—I just want to know about it when it happens.”

Dameron smirks and you groan, already knowing what’s coming.  “You wanna hear it?”

Yep, there it is.  “Second of all—”

“Feel the whole bunk rock with it?”  He goes on, completely ignoring you.  “Use the excuse that you’re trapped up top so you can just stay there the whole time and listen?  You know you can do a lot more than just—”

“Second of all,” you project over him, “you’re seriously telling me you haven’t had any wet dreams then, hm?  No snorgasms?  Hmmm?  No happy naps?  No captain midnights?  No mattress fracking?  Hmmmmmm???”

His voice very quickly sounds… shocked.  “How many fucking euphemisms—?”

“Wait wait, one more—” you quickly interrupt, too much momentum to stop now, “—sleepskeet.”

You watch in immense satisfaction as his expression seems to progress through all five stages of grief, before he exhales a long, unamused sigh and scratches his beard again.  You want to pluck each strand of it out of his face one by one.  “Anyways.  Wet dreams are totally different and don’t count.”

“It’s not different!”  You burst out, unable to help yourself, “it’s an orgasm, and rule number three is no orgas—”

“I know what the rules were, Gold-Ten,” he returns calmly, and it infuriates you, how he’s always able to make it seem like you’re the instigator who’s overreacting.  And he knows exactly what he’s doing by calling you by your flight designation, and it pisses you off even more because calling him Black-Leader in any other situation besides active warfare just feels like an unnecessary reminder of his skills.  Why he’s currently behind you manning the guidance controls and why you’re currently stuck in the front seat with the bulkier weapons systems.  “The question is if you’re seriously that bad enough of a sport to automatically disqualify me because of something that happens to any human with a dick indiscriminately when we blueball ourselves.”

“But that’s the entire fucking point, Dameron!”  You shrill, throwing your hands in the air in pure exasperation.  “There it is!  You need it more than I do, you just said it yourself!  Not to mention I said I can go longer without sex than you can— sex , not orgasms, but as it turns out I win at both.  Now can we please call this shit off so I can finally cum?  This isn’t fun anymore.”

“Nope,” he says immediately, popping the P with a bit too much hard emphasis to be genuinely amused.  He’s frustrated, too—his voice is too pleased, too fake to not be masking irritation underneath.  “Sorry.  But this was also your stupid idea, so.”

“You’re insufferable,” you grumble, anger flaring equal to his, just way more… verbal.  And descriptive.  “Wet dreams don’t count, fucking right.  Tell that to the oceans of Kamino I got going on down there, huh?  I move on this seat wrong and I’ll slide off it—”

A loud slam of a palm against the controls suddenly echoes throughout the small cockpit, causing you to jump slightly.  

“Don’t,” Dameron snarls, “... say shit like that to me.  Not right now.  Not right now, fuck .”

You go quiet for a moment, not expecting that much of an outburst at something you considered to be a throwaway remark, but then… oh.  Something occurs to you, something… sinister.  Oh, well, now there’s an idea.

Everything inside you immediately surges up and burns at the thought—the mere whisper of a way out of all of this, quickly, without giving in and letting him hold your surrender over you for Maker knows how long.  It’s so fucking simple, you don’t know why you didn’t think of it before.  You don’t have to wait him out at all; instead, you just need to… entice him into giving in first.

Neither of you say anything for a while, and you don’t know what he’s thinking (nothing, probably—a dry tumbleweed bouncing across an empty desert landscape, you imagine) but you take the dip in conversation to consider a plan.  You can’t go at it too outright, it’ll be too big of a turnaround and he’ll see it coming lightyears away.  A halfhearted joke about your pussy tossed out without thinking is what catalyzed the most substantial reaction from him you’ve seen, so… maybe you can keep steering the conversation towards the idea.

“How many wet dreams have you had?”  You suddenly ask, your heart beginning to pick up in your chest as soon as the words are out of your mouth.

“Excuse me?”  Dameron grunts from behind you, and you catch his reflection raising a thick eyebrow at you.

You take a deep breath and disguise it by stretching your back out just a little bit, lifting your shoulder blades and arching the sore muscles there, before settling back down in your normal crappy posture once more.  “Now many times did you cum in your sleep?  Had to at least been once for you to claim they don’t count.”

“Why does it matter?”  He asks, completely sidestepping the question for the second time.  “It was involuntary.”

You shrug.  “Just so I know how many freebies I can get tonight.”

“No,” Dameron instantly counters, his voice dead serious.  “Not fucking allowed.”

“Why not?”  You ask, and this time, there’s significantly less challenge than you’d typically deliver it with.  Instead, your voice is soft, questioning.  Not argumentative, but curious, and there’s just enough of your point left unsaid that it’ll seem like he conjured the rest of the image himself.

There’s silence while he considers his response to the perfectly executed bait.  You assume you’re both picturing the same thing, because it’s what you’ve pictured almost every single night spent in this celibate hellscape.  The cool darkness of your shared quarters, the standard-issue sheets that still feel crispy and rough on your skin no matter how many nights you’ve slept in them, with one of your hands pressed tight over your mouth and two of your fingers circle your clit.

“You only get to do it if I’m in the room,”  he poses instead, and you swallow thickly, feeling your body tighten with an unintentional drop of pure heat through your tummy at the thought.  Maker, it must be really bad if Poe fucking Dameron is getting to you like this.  The bane of your existence shouldn’t make your insides twist in on themselves—at least, not in a good way.

“Not like I’d have much choice,” you eventually respond, keeping it purposefully ambiguous.  “It’s your room, too.  Unfortunately.”

Stars, it’s been so long since you’ve done this, since you’ve walked the fine line between flirtation and seduction, wanting to turn on the charm slowly—gradually ease it up like a hyperdrive lever under your fingertips so that you’re at maximum by the time he realizes you’re even there.  You take a moment to glance at his reflection, watching Dameron look back at you curiously, a flash of interest in his eyes.

“By the way, how does that one girl feel about us doing this?”  You ask out of nowhere, suddenly remembering the existence of his pretty little number.  You’ve seen her under his arm around base at least a few times, which is more than you can say for the rest of them.  “Red-Six.  Tall brunette with the tattoos—I don’t bother learning names, they all come and go.”

“Nihla,” Dameron nods with a wistful sigh, tilting his head to rest against his shoulder.  “Or, wait… Neah.  No—it was… Nalal.  Yeah, Nalal, I think that’s right…”

“Unbelievable,” you mutter.  “One of the greatest mysteries of the universe is how many people get in line for you, I’ll never fucking understand it.”

“They just want me for my cock,” he tells you without missing a single beat, sounding like he’s not joking in the slightest.  “It was starting to get obnoxious.  Glad I finally have an excuse to turn them down.”

“Unbelievable,” you repeat, stunned by how truly, mind-blowingly full of himself he is.  “You’re… fucking…”

You end up just staring at him and making a sound somewhere between a laugh and a scoff, at a complete loss for words, and Dameron eventually shrugs and continues on after you fail to form a coherent thought in the allotted time frame he provides.

“Now I can just tell them I’m in a long-running bet with Gold-Ten over who can sexually deprive themselves the longest and weirdly enough, they don’t seem all that interested anymore,” he remarks, tilting his chin up and rubbing at his beard again, and for some reason… the sound of it bothers you somewhat less now, the way he phrased that resonating deeper inside you than it should.  Lower than it should.  You blink a few times, almost shocked by your body’s unprecedented response to his admission—Poe Dameron uses you as an excuse to turn down sex with pretty girls?  Happily?—and your mind goes blank for a second while he watches you through the transparisteel.  “It’s alright,” he eventually goes on, tilting his head.  “Sometimes a sabbatical is good.  I do really miss pussy, though.”

“Well,” you finally tell him, oddly not having much else to offer at the moment.  “I’m sorry?  And… you’re welcome.  I guess.”

Dameron shrugs once more and makes an apathetic sound without opening his mouth, and you drop your stare down to the machinery between your spread thighs after feeling like you were looking at each other for too long.  The position started uncomfortable and seven hours later, it’s still fucking uncomfortable.  At first the discomfort twinged at your hips and lower back, but now the sensation seems to be… centering itself a bit more, finding a spot right between your legs, especially when his words echo through your subconscious and make you naturally want to push your thighs together.  I do really miss pussy, though.

You try to snap out of it a bit, try to stop hyperfixating on the way your underwear has felt sticky and wet for fucking hours now, but it’s so fucking difficult to chill yourself out when your body already went into this whole situation with a month and a half long stumbling block.  He’s not really doing anything at all—he’s leant back in his chair and staring out the window into the black emptiness of space when you steal a look once more, but something about how his casual responses are affecting you makes it seem like he’s the one currently seducing you.

Maker, you have to focus.   You have to control yourself.  You’re starting to feel a little warm in your thick jumpsuit—a particular shade of orange that does not compliment your complexion but you normally rejoice in wearing regardless.  It’s baggy and uniform and hides most of your curves and most importantly, it keeps you toasty on missions like this.  Space is cold —especially this far out in the Cauper Void, and there’s no fucking reason this powered down hunk of floating metal should feel as muggy and stifling as it does in here.

“We shouldn’t be doing this,” you suddenly hear yourself say, spontaneously, no thought put into it whatsoever.  One last try, one last attempt to avoid it, a last-ditch go at flight before he gives you no choice and you’re left with this one remaining option.  “This isn’t a good idea.  It’s… not healthy.  I don’t want to do this anymore.”

This gets a small chuckle out of him.  “I know you don’t, pretty baby.”

“Then let’s just call the whole thing off,” you propose once again, trying to lighten your tone, make it a… a friendly thing.  It sounds so fake, even to your own ears—since when would you be desperate enough to let the dreaded petname slide?—but granted, you know what they say about time and measures and all that shit.  “We can call it a tie, just go back to the way things were befo—”

He cuts you off and pins you with his gaze through the reflection.  “You realize that you begging me to put an end to your suffering is—ridiculously hot, mostly—but also only an incentive to make me keep pushing until you finally give in?”

You groan and comb some of your hair off your forehead, not liking the way it’s getting just the slightest bit damp.  “Fine, we won’t call it off, but can we at least just stop—”  You immediately catch yourself, not wanting to unintentionally push this too far too quickly, but your hesitation is clear and compelling enough for him to prompt you.

“At least just stop what?”  Dameron asks, and though you don’t think it’s intentional or even noticeable from his perspective, something about the way his voice sounds… husky.  Low to the ground.

“Stop dragging it out,” you breathe, your heart pounding.  Why is your heart pounding so fucking fast?  This is a fucking sting op, a facade, so why are you getting so caught up in the lie you’ve spun for yourself?  “Finish it.  Sooner, rather than later.  Quit being masochists about it, just fucking put it to—”

Maker, your eyes instinctively snap to his at your poor choice of wording, having almost said bed on complete accident.  Genuinely, you didn’t mean to phrase it that way, but at the same time, the thought of it almost burns you alive.  Fuck.  Dameron, and you, in bed.  It could be mean.  It could be rough.  A fight for dominance more than anything.  He’s bigger than you and he could make it fucking hurt, especially after going without it for as long as you have, but something about how double-edged that type of relief would be isn’t really sinking in for you right now.  Like a person slowly dying of thirst that’s fantasizing about drowning.  Regardless, the idea of a night with him and the sudden assortment of vivid imagery it provides is enough to get you to shut up and take a deep breath, just wait with your mouth shut for whatever his response is.

Unfortunately, you don’t have to wait long at all.

“This is cute,” he suddenly tells you, and you jerk back and sputter a bunch of consonants stupidly like he smacked you.

“Fuck you?”  Are the first recognizable words that can be heard.  “I’m not—this isn’t fucking— cute?”

“It’s cute,” Dameron repeats, hiding a soft smile from you with a few of his fingers pressed to his lips.  “You,” he says as he points at your reflection, twirling his finger around in circles, “trying to be all sneaky about it, go about your little performance.  It’s like… watching a little kid just blatantly fuck up a magic trick but they’re naive enough to think it’s working.  Keep going, I’m enthralled.”

You hold still for just a second as ice suddenly sinks through your tummy and clears away any trace of warmth you may have once felt from before.  Of course.  Stupid.  Stupid, you shouldn’t have even tried something like that, you don’t know why you thought…

Horrifyingly, you go dead silent and the lack of an immediate response from you hangs awkwardly in the still air.  You’re usually so quick with him, so fiery, letting the things he throws at you just glide right off you, but for some insane reason, you’re actually fucking… embarrassed?  A little bit?

You should say something, but your whole body is just frustratingly blank, almost buzzing in mortification, and it gets worse and worse the longer you stay quiet.  You don’t usually put yourself in a position to be compromised, and you certainly didn’t think the place he decided to jab this time had particularly thin skin.

You… you’d forgotten what it’s like to have someone laugh at you when you’re genuinely trying your best to flirt.

Well, it’s too late to say anything now, you think.  Now it’s just uncomfortable in here—true discomfort, not the typical angry silences.  You’re used to that, you’re used to huffing and crossing your arms and ticking your jaw through the breaks in conversation, refusing to say a word because you’re beyond pissed off.  This is different.  This quiet sits different in the air, this emotion hits different in your chest, somewhere vulnerable.  A crack in your armor he found without even necessarily intending to, but at this point, the stupid way you can’t seem to hide the wound from him is just as much to blame.

“So, uh…”  Dameron clears his throat as you shut your eyes tight against the awkwardness, but you can still feel a strange little shift in the air from behind you.  There’s something about the enclosed space, the quiet darkness surrounding you both, you feel… too close to him.  Sharing his air, feeling the energy when it’s cramped and you’re not able to just get up and storm away from him like normal.  You don’t like it.  You don’t like that you can immediately tell something has changed without being able to see him, that type of intimacy between you is pushing a boundary you can’t quite pinpoint but know exists.

You snap your eyes open and look over at Dameron’s reflection when he’s quiet for too long, and though you try to glare as fiercely as possible at him while you do it, the look on his face almost stops you dead.  The pure intensity raging in his expression, the way he’s got his eyes narrowed, flicking back and forth between yours, carefully studying you, wondering if perhaps he may have gotten it all wrong.  “I mean, y’know.  Theoretically speaking, and all.  If I broke, you’d let me fuck you?”

You… aren’t expecting that.

You don’t know why but your heart suddenly starts to race again, but it’s not the same as before.  Before it was speeding up and at an angle, like a rocket trying to escape a body’s gravitational pull, to go somewhere, search for something.  This time it just feels like it’s ricketing downhill, unsteady and out of control, about to break apart with every single pothole that rattles and slams through you.  Shit.  You didn’t expect the ultimatum would be presented to you so up front like that—you thought there’d be… some resistance, at least.  

Fuck, you take way too fucking long thinking about it, and your face feels warmer and warmer the more you mentally pick apart his specific phrasing, wondering where you should even begin.  You still haven’t said anything, but the damage is already done.  What should've been a firm, instantaneous go fuck yourself is left suspended, unanswered, open for interpretation.  You miss your window of opportunity to shut him down, you overshoot it by a longshot, and then you feel that spark of a what-if flare deep down once more.

No, fucking stop it.  Stop it.  Maker, your eyes do everything they can to not look at him while you concentrate and work to tap into your anger, stoking the flames of your fire to avoid feeling… temptation.  How dare he?  How fucking dare he do this to you, especially when there’s no chance to get out of here, to abort mission and cut your losses?  You clench your jaw and isolate that fury, magnify it until it’s the only thing you can feel anymore.

“My turn now,” Dameron eventually breaks the silence to clarify, blinking at you, and by this point you’re so fucking pissed off that you don’t recognize that isn’t actually a question.

“No,” you immediately snap, strung far too thin to deal with this new, treacherous territory with him.  Defaulting to normal is best, it’s easier.  “No, it’s not your turn, and fuck no, you can’t fuck me, not even if it means I win this stupid bet.  No to everything that has anything to fucking do with you, alright?  Don’t talk to me.  You’re lucky if I agree to sleep in the same fucking room as you tonight.  And—and?—I think your beard looks dumb.”

Okay, so maybe the last part was just a little bit childish, but you’re in such a bad fucking mood and you want to insult something he’s clearly just trying out for right now, hasn’t yet solidified as part of his usual appearance and unshakeable confidence in it.  It’s a downright lie—you think he might look more attractive with it than he ever has.  Effortlessly rugged and masculine, framing his face and making his eyes all the more piercing.

You don’t think it works, but regardless, he heeds your sharp words and says nothing for a good few minutes at least.  You had hoped the break in interaction would allow you the ability to reset a little bit, give yourself time to work through it, but it’s like the pressure in the air steadily increases regardless of how silent it is in here—or perhaps, because of it.

You can’t help it.  You flick your eyes to the transparisteel in front of you once more and catch his reflection staring directly at you, unmoving.  It jars you as much as it sparks your anger, and you glare down at your hands and give him a few seconds.  A few seconds of grace, of mercy, before you try again.

Sure enough, he’s still got his dark eyes pinned to you when you go to check once more, like he’s actually fucking thinking about something right now, which is just… astounding, for obvious reasons.  Mainly, the nerve of him.  The fucking nerve of him to be able to look at you like that, like he’s just entitled to study your every feature, searching your eyes for things you’ve never looked deep enough to find within yourself, making incredibly loud assumptions with his mind that he has absolutely no right to be making.

“Shut up,”  You snap at him defensively, feeling like you’re sweating buckets even in the freezing emptiness of dead space.  You can’t figure out if it’s a cold sweat or if your body is legitimately just malfunctioning under his stare.  “Shut up.”

You watch as his reflection suddenly drops his head back against the seat and rolls out the stiffness of his neck, blinking his eyes shut and raising his eyebrows like you’re completely overreacting, like he has absolutely no idea.  “I didn’t say anything.”

“You’re not that dumb,” you challenge.  “You’re… plotting.  Evil plotting.”

A thick eyebrow drops so that only one is quirked up, and a grin pulls at his lips.

“You’re right,” Dameron admits casually after a moment with his eyes still closed, his voice pitched low in the cramped ship.  “I was thinking about what it’s gonna take to get you to lose.”

You swallow against the dryness in your throat, starting to unintentionally bounce one of your legs up and down without even realizing it.  Fuck, this ship is small, it’s too fucking small in here—you gaze wistfully out at the vast endlessness of space, wanting to grit your teeth at the irony of being surrounded by the one thing you so desperately wish you had.

“I just have to find a weakness,” he shifts forward in his seat and reveals to you, bewilderingly shameless in his honesty.  Like all of a sudden you’re an accomplice to this endeavor instead of its target, as if he isn’t spoiling the secret by letting you in on it.  “Something that you like, that gets you going.  Something that riles you up, gets you all hot and bothered down there—”

“So you can exploit it,” you huff, slouching over a bit and trying not to sound like you’re pouting.

“—so I can exploit it,” he finishes happily, collapsing back into his seat like he’s glad you caught on so quick and he doesn’t have to explain further.  “Now we can do the whole routine—the bickering, the tension, the undeniable sexual chemistry we have—or we can skip all that and you can just tell me flat out what it’s gonna take to rev that pretty little engine up, because I want it purring.”

And, it’s so fucking weird, because the specific verbiage that would normally make you cringe just hearing it spoken aloud doesn’t inspire the typical response, even though it feels like it should.  It feels like you should be grossed out, it feels like a moment you should screw up your facial expression and act offended, but you’re… not.  This is actually fucking working, it’s unbelievable.  The undeniable fact infuriates you just as much as it stumps you.

“You do realize that everything you say is a game that two can play at, right?”  You point out, not really sure where you’re going with this but feeling heated about it all the same.  “What’s stopping me from exploiting something you like?”

“See now that’s a great idea,” Dameron announces, clapping his hands together happily and sending you jumping a few inches in your seat at the sudden sound, your hand automatically shooting up to rest on your thumping heart.  “I can tell you what I like, and you can just listen.”

Alright, no, wait—backtrack—

“How about I tell you what I don’t like,” you snip breathlessly, tucking your hair behind your ear and feeling all the blood rush to your cheeks.  Default to normal, default to normal.  “Your fucking attitude.  Your demeanor.  The way you talk down to me.  You don’t listen.  You walk around like you’re such hot shit just because you’re a good pilot but none of that means anything when you don’t ever fucking listen.  You’re terrible at it, doesn’t matter who’s talking—you don’t listen to me, you don’t listen to people who actually like you, you don’t listen to orders, you don’t listen to reason—”

“You think I’m a good pilot?”  He suddenly asks, and you have to take a second.  This cockpit isn’t designed for anything other than sitting, much less turning all the way around, but you’re sure you can find some way to throttle him from here.  He chuckles as you let out the loudest sigh you’ve ever heard yourself make—which, is an incredible feat you think both of you should be congratulated for—before Dameron eventually carries on.  “You could tell me that,” he admits with a shrug, a hidden smile on his face that he’s trying to bite back.  “Or you could tell me the truth.”

You shouldn’t encourage him, but you just can’t fucking help it.  There’s something inside you, something you can only compare to a morbid sort of curiosity.  Maybe you’re just a glutton for punishment, even more so than agreeing to this bet has already confirmed.  “And that would be—?”

“That you use anger as a defense mechanism because I touch a nerve you didn’t realize you had,” Dameron replies breezily.  “Have since the moment we met.  And that you maybe want me to touch something else, but you’re too stubborn and proud and committed to hating me to ever admit it.  You can admit it, it’s okay, I can touch whatever you need me to tou—”

“How about the emergency eject button?”  You hiss, finally feeling your frustration peak.  “Pop the top on this bitch.  Put me out of my fucking misery, right now.  You’ve got such a big head that the blood flow will probably keep your tiny little brain warm enough as long as you strap yourself down beforehand, I’ll wait.  And then you can go back to base, alone , and find another poor girl to emotionally torture since you probably don’t get enough of it from the ones you work your way through but can never remember the most basic things about.”

Remarkably, that actually shuts him up.  You’re doubtful the jab really hurts him, but you’re not going to feel bad about it either way.  He deserved that.  You cross your arms over your chest and don’t even bother looking at him, huffing and flushed with the climax of your ferocity, now left feeling strangely exhausted in its wake.  Eventually your breathing evens out and disappears into the silence, until nothing at all can be heard.

It’s like that for a moment—only a moment, before the loud tearing of velcro suddenly shreds through the quiet in the cockpit, completely rattling you.  Automatically your eyes shoot over to his reflection, watching large hands pull the orange jumpsuit apart at his chest and then shrug it over broad shoulders.  It’s not sexual.  It can’t be sexual, because there’s just no fucking room to allow it—it takes him forever to pull the long sleeves down his arms, but the way he drags it out somehow just increases your anticipation for an event you should have absolutely no interest in spectating.  He’s wearing a white sleeveless undershirt underneath and the jumpsuit bunches at his waist, making him look all the longer and more defined as he finally collapses back into his seat and reclines in it, the distant constellations bathing his lean torso in dim speckles of starlight.

Your gaze catches on every good part of him—it falls down the muscular lines of his neck and follows the thin gold chain wrapped around it, disappearing into the white of his scooping neckline.  His toned body finds a place to rest and stretch out without looking awkward or uncomfortable, coarse hair darkening his jaw and dusting the strong lines of his forearms—but it’s his eyes that make your heart stutter.  They’re endlessly deep and dark and knowing , and you can’t seem to look away from him, not even when he opens his mouth to address you.  

“You’re always so fucking mean to me,” Dameron remarks, and for just a split second—just a split second, you feel a stab of regret.  “I should eat you out tonight.”

Fuck, he hits the nail right on the head on his very first try, and just hearing the words come out of his mouth so effortlessly makes your pussy clench in on itself in need.  Nothing about his inflection changed from one sentence to the next, nothing in his voice made it seem like he just flipped the fucking galaxy upside down with just a few words.  To an onlooker who doesn’t speak Basic, they’d have absolutely no hint as to why your face is suddenly radiating heat at an industrial capacity, blazing hot enough to warm the whole cockpit.  You feel like you’re literally burning up with it.  You have to put a palm to your cheek to make sure it’s not actually on fucking fire.  “What— what did you just say to me?”

“That’s what you need,” he drawls, unbothered by the sharpness of your tone.  “What you’ve needed, ever since I can remember.  Should’ve done it a long fucking time ago, now that I’m thinking about it.  How long’s it been?  Tell me the truth, I know it’s been awhile.”

You feel like you’re being roasted alive like one of those hairy little Kowakian monkey-lizards that you’re pretty sure have sentient designation but are the first to be skewered and cooked over the firepit regardless.  Your heart is slamming against your sternum and you scramble to come up with an even slightly clever response after such an ambush.

“This is your plan?”  You raise an eyebrow at him, feeling a bead of sweat drop down your temple and onto the corner of your lashes.  Oh fuck, be cool, be cool.  “You think this is gonna work?  Ask me if I want a weak orgasm and rugburn on my thighs?”

“I can shave,” Dameron proposes quietly, lifting his chin and gently scrubbing the side of his cheek.  The sound of the thick bristles against his fingers makes you swallow thickly and push back very vivid thoughts of how his face would feel between your legs.  How soft and wet his mouth would feel at the center of that thick, coarse beard.  “Tonight, I’ll shave it off.  Make it nice and smooth for you.”

Something inside you surges up to assure him he absolutely should not shave, and you actually have to bite your tongue to keep it buried at the last second.  Stars, that was a close one, what the fuck prompted that?

“I don’t give a shit what you do,” you quickly return, resisting the urge to wipe your brow.  “Beard or no beard, makes no difference.  Foreplay is overrated, I’m not big on wasting time.”

“Oh, you poor thing,” he immediately laments—so quick , and the worst part is that the sympathy in his voice actually sounds sincere.  You’re having trouble looking him in the eyes right now, hearing the genuine pity come through in his tone.  “Who… who did this to you?”

“You said you want to figure out what I like, what turns me on,” you return, tucking your hair behind your ear once more and trying not to sound self-conscious.  Maker, how long until your shift is over?  You need to get out of here, this shit is… way out of your league.  “I’m not into it, so try again.”

“Really?”  Dameron takes a moment to look at you, furrow his thick eyebrows at you in barely concealed curiosity, before his head tilts sideways and drops to his shoulder.  “Normally I’d respect that, but I meant it when I said you need it.”

“We fucking hate each other, Dameron,” you hiss, a reminder to him as much as it is to yourself.  Fuck, you really don’t like where this is going.  “You don’t know anything about me, you don’t know what the I n—”

“I bet you think we’d fuck hard,” he murmurs, low enough that you have to take an unsteady breath and physically brace yourself for whatever is going to come from that dirty mouth next.  “You think that maybe I’d throw you around a little, give it to you from behind, teach you a fucking lesson for always talking back to me.  But that’s primitive shit, Gold-Ten, that’s not for you.”

Resist.  Resist .  You’re part of the fucking Resistance, for Maker’s sake, you’re taught to hold out until death in torture scenarios.  Since when did this tin can suddenly become a new POW camp simulation you have to train for?

“I want to take you apart so slow that you can’t talk at all,” Dameron continues quietly, and you close your eyes, biting your bottom lip hard enough to sting.  “We don’t even have to fuck—I mean, I want to, but mostly I just want to taste you.  Go nice and slow.  I want you on your back, so I can look in your eyes and see all that anger just… fade away.  I want to watch you try to fight how fucking good I’ll make it.  How hot it’s gonna be when you can’t glare at me anymore, when your pretty doll eyes go all soft and sweet and you finally realize that I’ve never hated you at all.”

Maker.  This is a trick.  It’s not a question, it shouldn’t be presented like one—this is a dirty rotten trick , and you’re not gonna fall for it.  You can’t fucking fall for it.  It’s a low blow, and you refuse to even acknowledge he said anything at all.  He’s lying to get your guard down.  He laughed at your flirting.  He’s a shit person, he’s using you, this isn’t real.

Real or not, you still gulp loud enough for him to hear it.

“We could go back to our room after our shift is over,” he offers out of the blue, and you have no clue why, but when he pauses and lets it hang in the air for a second, you don’t interrupt him.  You stay completely silent while he waits for you, waits for your typical snarky comeback.  You have it in your head instantly, you know what you’d normally say.  Your room.  It’s not ‘our’ room, it’s fucking your room that you’re generous enough to let him bunk in, a privilege he’s this fucking close to losing—but you can’t find it in yourself to say it right now.  Your anger is gradually losing the war to your arousal and you’re forced to watch every single small defeat inside you happen from the sidelines.

His reflection blinks at you through the transparisteel, his eyebrows raising just slightly at your prolonged silence, before he suddenly sits up a little and leans forward.

“And I could lock the door,” Dameron continues, lowering his voice, both in volume and register.  “The lights in there are way too fucking bright but I don’t want to be in complete darkness, so maybe we can turn them off and open the port shade, let just enough light come through to see.  I could turn on the radio, find something quiet, easy to listen to.  Something you like, I’ll let you pick it out.  And then… Wait, hang on, which bed?”

You clench your jaw and purposefully say nothing even as your pussy squeezes, glaring right through his reflection into the black void of space.

“Mmm.   Your bed,” he eventually decides.  “I want you comfortable.  You shower at night.  Your hair will be wet and you’ll be in those baggy pajamas that you think I can’t see your nipples through, the ones that I know you take off under your covers and then put on in the morning when you think I’m still asleep.  That’s good, I want you relaxed, so that maybe… maybe you’d let me take your panties off at some point.  And you could lay back and open your legs, and I could go down on you for a little while.  However long you need.”

Fuck.

No, this isn’t fucking happening.  Your lower muscles aren’t twisting in so hard that it actually fucking hurts, your pussy isn’t leaking through two layers of fabric under your jumpsuit, your body isn’t outright revolting against the sheer neglect you’ve put it through.  Maker, it’s fucking painful.  You have to clench your hands into fists and dig your fingernails into your palms before you can open your mouth.

“You want to know what I need?”  You nearly wheeze, a drop of sweat sliding down the back of your neck this time.  Your body feels like it’s three sizes too big for this cockpit and your skin feels like it’s three sizes too small for your body.  “I need you to shut the fuck u—”

“What you need,” Dameron purrs, sliding up closer behind your seat and sighing soft against the worn material of your headrest, “is a warm mouth to cum in.  Don’t be shy, pretty baby, you can tell me.”

You growl out his last name as threateningly as you possibly can before he purrs yours right back in your ear, and fuck, you’ve never heard it sound so sexual before.  Last names allow pilots to maintain a respectful distance from each other.  Flight designations are Resistance-wide, but last names are just… allies.  Not friends, not companions, but a vast network of people brought together by a common enemy.  It hurts to lose a first name.  But the way yours sounds rolling off of Dameron’s tongue is just too sinful, too intimate when calling you that is meant to sever intimacy by design.  He says it slow and makes it dirty, muddies it in the back of his throat as he slides up even closer to you, until his face is right next to yours as you stare at each other through the transparisteel.

“I’m really…” he pauses, before exhaling through his nose and swallowing thick enough to make his Adam’s apple drop and bounce up again, his tongue coming out to wet his plush lips as he blinks slowly at you with a heavy gaze, “… really good at it.  Call me Poe and I’ll do it for you all night.”

Shit, your pussy is just a fucking mess right now.  It feels like it’s melting sweet and syrupy all over your thighs, throbbing and pounding and clamping up and screaming at you to do something, at least press your hand down there to alleviate some of the aching tensi—

No— stars, no touching yourself is rule number two.  You drop your hands to your thighs and squeeze them, trying to reign yourself back in.

“I think you’re—just projecting,” you try, but turns out responding in general is just an all-around bad idea.  Nothing about it comes out right.  The ‘just’ sounds like your tongue is stuck to the roof of your mouth and your voice cracks on the word ‘projecting,’ but you don’t even have time to be self-conscious or embarrassed at how much you’re giving yourself away—all your energy has to go towards fighting the tightness between your open legs, how you’re so fucking turned on that you’re worried you’ll cum without even touching yourself.  Oh Maker, can you imagine?  How fucking proud of himself he’d be?  You can’t let that happen, but fuck, holding back something so appealing is so much harder than it sounds.

Tap into that anger, tap into that anger—only, you can’t suddenly find it.  Where’d it go?  Fuck, doesn’t matter, conjure it.  Quick, before it’s too late, get mad —don’t let him lure you into a… a false… 

Dameron tilts his chin down towards the line of your shoulder and then slowly turns his head towards your neck, breathing you in gently.

A false sense of…

His soft exhale makes goosebumps break out all the way down your arms.

… What?

“Maybe you’re right,” Dameron acknowledges, talking just under your ear.  You watch his eyelids dip and the dark beard brushes against your skin and you catch just a hint of that woodsy, spicy scent engulfing you.  Like… teakwood, maybe?  Stars, you don’t know, you think you’re starting to lose your mind.  What the fuck does teakwood even smell like?  “Maybe it’s just what I need.  You should exploit it, chances are I’ll still cum first.”

That rockets another painful spasm down low.  It hurts so fucking bad—fuck, maybe you could… rub yourself up against these weapons controls?  Just a little bit?  That joystick, right there, just ease yourself up against it just to nurse this wound a little bit…?

No, fucking— bad.  That’s bad, you have to stop—

“This isn’t real, this isn’t—y-you just…”  You flutter your eyelashes shut, digging your fingernails into your thighs like it’ll help break through the fog of his lulling voice, how fucking amazing he smells right now.  “You just want to win th-the b—”

“ Fuck the bet,” he tells you quietly, his head dipped low enough now that his lips brush against your neck, and you shudder so hard at the sensation that your shoulder almost knocks into his chin with it.  “You really think I’m doing all this for a fucking bet?”

Don’t trust him, don’t trust him, don’t—

Your deep breath is so stuttery and uneven that it’s technically just a series of shallow inhales all anxiously strung together, too desperate for oxygen to go about it legato.  It’s painfully obvious to him by now, it has to be, but you very quickly miss the shaky breathing as soon as he takes away your ability to do it all together.

“Let me taste you,” he whispers, his voice almost breaking with how gentle it is, how it sounds like it flips in and out of his register when he speaks this low.  “Right now, let’s make it real, let m—I know you have to be soaking fucking wet, baby, just let me try a little bit of it, please—I’m… holy shit, I’m so hard just thinking about it.”

“You c-can’t,” you stammer, reaching up to pinch the bridge of your nose in frustration.  At him, at the situation, at the painful throb of emptiness between your legs.  “Fuck, it’s not allowed, it’s against the rules—”

“It won’t be,” he assures you, and you hiccup when you suddenly feel his hand brush against your side, strong fingers branching out to curve against your ribcage.  “You don’t have to do anything, you can stay just like this.  Just a few seconds and then I’ll stop, I promise.”

Oh, Maker, it’s on the very top of your tongue, so unbelievably close to telling him something—but you don’t know what it should be.  You’re right at the tipping point, on a tightrope right between what you want and what you should want.  And, knowing you’re this close to giving in, Dameron slowly eases his hand down your side and starts to trail it inwards, and just the lightest brush of his warm tongue against your neck shatters any composure you have left.

You whimper and instinctively try to close your legs, but you fucking can’t— your knees are forced wide apart by controls and your whole body freezes when his hand slides down and folds gently along the curve of your pussy through the thick fabric of your jumpsuit.

The feeling of being held like this by him is just too good , cradled so perfectly in his palm as he opens his mouth and flutters his tongue out to taste your skin again, giving you a little more of it this time and letting you feel the roughness of his beard with the way his lips move.  Your breath catches, then he hooks his fingertips up just the slightest bit and pulls back, and you suddenly have to smack your whole hand over your face in a terrible attempt to stifle your loud gasp.

“Oh, Maker, I c-can’t,” you stammer against your fingers, not being able to trust him or your own body.  You continue to protest even after he moves back up, resting his palm low on your abdomen, letting the heat bleed through the fabric and transfer directly to your floor muscles as he lifts his head up from your shoulder.  “I can’t, we can’t, I…”

You can’t see him, but you know he’s looking at you.  He’s staring right at you through the reflection, studying the way you’re hiding your face from him, how you’re still melting, still losing your composure just from the warm palm pressed tight your tummy.

His touch leaves you for a second. But then the deafening sound of velcro ripping at the crotch of your jumpsuit has you dragging your hand down your mouth and your eyelids dipping.

“Dameron,” you breathe into your fingers, just as his carefully slip into the small opening and begin to work at the button to your pants. “Dameron, this isn’t—you don’t want—”

“You don’t get to tell me what I don’t want,” he grunts at you, and you try not to bite yourself at the sound of him unzipping things and yanking fabric to the side.  “What I really fucking want is the real thing, but I guess this’ll have to do for now.”

“I—”  Your mind whirs desperately, trying to process when his fingers wedge under your panties and down.   But he doesn’t give you a single fucking second.  As soon as the tip of his middle finger reaches your slit, he’s dropping it and sliding it through your slick, hot, unbearably neglected cunt.

“Fuck,” he spits, and you feel like you might be about to break your own fucking jaw with how hard you’re clutching it, trying so desperately not to make a noise.  The pad of his finger is rough and calloused as it drags against your clit in slow, tight circles, and you clamp your eyes shut and try to breathe normally, but it’s no use.  Fuck , it’s been so long .  You’ve been aching for it for a full fucking month and a half now and you know that even if he couldn’t feel it, he can hear how drenched you are right now.  It’s making an obscene sound as he steadily masturbates you with one heavenly finger, giving your body what it’s desperately craved for so many weeks.  “Fuck, baby’s pussy got fucking wet hearing me talk about how good I’d lick it, huh?”

That sends a bright flare launching through you and you gasp raggedly, both hands whipping out to snatch at his forearm where it disappears between your legs.  “No, shit, wait, stopstopstopstop stop , I—”

His hand slips out immediately and yet you continue to tremble like his finger is still right there, like your clit is just imagining it so vividly that it’s successfully convincing itself of the illusion.  The aching bit of flesh is burning, that good burn, the one that’s searing and bright that makes your muscles continue to chase the sensation long after the stimulation is gone.  Fuck, he almost made you cum.  He barely touched you for a few seconds and yet your fingers have to tighten into claws to slow your body down the fuck down, flexing against your thighs and trying your best to halt the impending climax.

By the time you’re able to wrangle yourself back from the edge and look at his reflection, his middle finger is already in his mouth and he’s blinking slowly at you, his pupils blown wide.  You’re breathing hard at him, staring open-mouthed at the way his lips are closed below his second knuckle, how he takes forever dragging it back out again.  You have to close your eyes.  You have to clamp them shut and keep them that way, knowing you won’t be able to look at him through whatever he’s going to say next.

Except, oddly, he doesn’t say much.

“Shit,” he breathes, dropping his mouth to your neck once more.  “Shhhit.  I…”

Your eyes snap open in sudden, blind panic when he doesn’t continue, horrified at the possibility that he doesn’t like it.  Dameron always has something to say, he doesn’t go speechless.  “Oh—Maker, is it not—?”

“Mmmfuck, just—” he grits, panting hot air against your skin, “—fuck.  Give me a second.”

You can only see the crown of his head with the way he’s angled, but you can see his shoulders a little further back.  They start… moving slightly.  Just the littlest bit, a smooth motion, like his whole body is slowly easing back and forth—

The nav controls are between his legs, you immediately realize.  He’s grinding up against them with how close he is to you and your seat.

And suddenly, it’s like there’s a light at the end of the tunnel.  A ray of sunshine that breaks through the raging storm.  Dameron might cum in his pants like this.  Which means you’ll win, and arguably more importantly, you’ll finally be able to cum.  You don’t even take a moment to consider the potential consequences—how you’re going to have to withstand the stimulation until he succumbs to it, how you’ll have to outlast—but you’re not thinking straight.  You’re not really thinking at all.

“You can…” you suddenly hear yourself whisper, and your heart pounds in your throat when he instantly stops moving.  “One… one more.  If you want.  You can put your finger inside this time, it’s where I’m the… w-wettest.”

“Fuck,” Dameron croaks into the crook of your neck, his voice scraping low and rough and sending a tremor through you.  “Fuck, okay, yeah—”

His hand slides across your hip and down, but you catch him just in time.

“But don’t touch my clit.”  You try to sound as firm as possible through the breathlessness, still trying to put your foot down even when you’re giving in, and Dameron’s teeth come out as he stifles a soft groan into your neck in response.

“Yes, baby,” he murmurs obediently as his hand sinks down once more, and so diligently, he avoids it altogether.  His fingers slide under your panties and fall straight down to your entrance, down to where you know you’re the hottest, where your pussy is flexing and pushing wetness out with a steady, wicked throb.  The pad of his middle finger presses gently against the tight muscles there, rubs just the slightest bit to feel that resistance, and then the length of it eases inside you so slowly that your knees rattle against bulky metal.

“Fucking Maker , ” he hisses as he slides it in, his body making a sudden jerk against the controls.

Your eyes roll back at the feeling of something inside you after so long, after such a torturous buildup, and you grasp at his forearm again when it curls naturally up against searing pleasure.  Oh, it’s so good, it’s so good, your hands shake while he very carefully moves it in and out, the raw sparks of heat threatening to incinerate you as your muscles cling to every ridge of his finger.  He gets it sopping wet, bathes it so completely in your slick that you’re almost certain it’ll come out pruny and drenched.

“Shit, okay,” you pant, squeezing desperately around his finger, “o-okay, fuck, that’s enough.”

His hand pulls out… slower this time.  He slips his finger out of you quick enough, but he drags the tip of it through your folds as he retreats, just barely grazing your clit and making you jolt in your seat.  Shit, you don’t know if it felt intentional enough to fault him for it—mostly it just excites you, thrills you to have him edge you like this without really needing to put any effort at all into it.

Dameron lifts his head to sink his finger deep into his mouth once more, and you tremble as you watch him enjoy it, staring at the way his shoulders seem to relax as soon as your taste is on his tongue, how his face goes soft with it and he almost slumps.

Relief.  Genuine, not embellished.  He still doesn’t say anything after he slowly slides it out and blinks at you, no sugar sweet drawl telling you how amazing you taste, no candied words to make you give in and let him have another go.  You’re both breathing hard at each other, staring, waiting to see who will break first.

Stars, you… fucking like this.  You want him to keep going, but you can’t offer it again.  It’s just too exposing, too revealing to let him you’re actually really fucking enjoying this, you can’t—

“Do you w—?”  Your voice automatically comes out through the silence without your permission, sounding just absolutely fucking wrecked by this point, but his palm is already slithering back down as soon as you speak, and you make the softest little submissive noise in your throat at him taking immediate initiative like that.  He’s not as careful about it this time—his hand finds its target with less frill, his finger slides in quicker, sinking deep into your heat with little hesitation, lighting you on fire from the inside out, and you bite the meat of your thumb to stay quiet.

“Fuck, this is so hot,” he suddenly breathes next to your ear while your legs spasm and you gasp brokenly.  “This is so—fuck, pretty baby letting me do this to her, I can’t fucking believe—”

Dameron eases a second finger inside you this time, letting you feel that delicious stretch from this angle, unable to lift your legs or shuffle around to help and subsequently resigned to simply experience it the way he gives it to you.  Your teeth have probably permanently indented your bottom lip from how hard you’re clamped down, a testament to how much you’re trying to hold back the loud moan you miraculously haven’t released yet.  Somehow it makes it sexier, not letting him hear you, not having your own noises to drown out the spark of urgency in his voice beginning to peek through.

Shit, it’s too much.  You can only let him touch you a few seconds at a time before you feel that familiar tug towards mind-numbing bliss, and the more he does it, the more appealing that feeling then becomes.  It’s teasing you, floating right in front of you and calling into question what could possibly be so bad about just reaching out to meet it?  You could.  You could cum right now.  What’s two weeks of pay?  You could cum all night long if you want, that is a thing you can do—

Quickly snapping out of your hypnotic downfall, your trembling hands snatch at his forearm once more, and Dameron, the fucker, drags his fingers slowly over your clit on the way out— so not accidental, not even close to it this time, but the sensation makes your hips stutter upwards and chase it nonetheless.

“Fuck you,” you groan at his audacity, your chest arching as you drop your head back, “I said don’t touch my—” but two wet fingers slipping past your lips and onto your tongue muffle the rest of your sentence.  Your heart does half a somersault before slamming down early, the taste of your pussy filling your mouth as you automatically start sucking on them.

“None of that,” Dameron tells you softly, massaging his fingers along your tongue before pressing a sweet kiss under your ear.  “Be nice.  I’m being nice.”

You should bite him.  Instead, you just close your eyes and mphh weakly around his fingers, your body sagging as you give into it and let him explore your mouth with them, your lower muscles cramping up in painful desperation even when he’s not anywhere near that part of your body right now.  Your tongue even comes up to lick between them, swirl around them so soft compared to how hard you’re puffing through your nose.

Dameron slowly inches his fingers out, letting the tips of them rest against your bottom lip for just a brief moment, before his hand is moving again.  Not down, but back and around, so he can open his mouth and taste you another way this time.

Shit, you feel like you’re dying.  You need air.  Your hands clench into fists and you use the back of one to wipe the sweat from the bridge of your nose while he takes his time sampling you like this.  If anything, he looks just as blissed out as before, continuing to rub his crotch up against the solid metal between his legs and teasing you with it as much as he’s teasing himself.

“Maker, let me do this for real tonight, okay,” Dameron pants after dropping his fingers from his mouth, sounding like he’s fighting for his breath while you can’t find yours at all.  Your eyes flick down to watch the way his hand disappears behind the chair to grab the controls and push his cock up against them even harder, how he drops his forehead to your neck like he just can’t fucking handle it anymore.  “Fuck, I’ll shave, I’ll do anything you want, just let me—”

“Cum,” you gasp out before you can stop yourself, and there’s a moment after it where his hips suddenly stutter against the controls, and you both freeze.

Shit.  Shitshitshit, did that actually work?

No, you very quickly realize, his body isn’t spasming like it would if he finally emptied his load after a month and a half.  He’s just… holding there, his head buried in your neck, completely still.

You didn’t mean it like that.  Well… fuck, you did, but you didn’t realize you’d be that reckless about it, that upfront about reissuing the challenge.

Dameron pulls back to look at you from the side this time, but it’s too cramped—he keeps his head turned facing you even as his eyes flick up to the transparisteel to take in the finer details of your features, the thin sheen of sweat on your forehead, and the slightly alarmed way you’re blinking back at him, worried you just shot your blaster at him in the midst of a mutual ceasefire and you fucking missed.

You see the understanding in his eyes instantly fall into place, and it’s not fucking good.  Ohhhhhh no, it’s not good.  Your chest starts rising and falling rapidly, suddenly registering the position you just put yourself in.  Fuck, you didn’t think—you saw your opening, so clearly, you didn’t have time to think about the consequences.

“D-Dameron…” you try your best to placate.

“Don’t touch your clit?”  He asks quietly, the raspiness of his voice ripping a hole through you while his hand suddenly shoves its way back down your body once more.

“Dameron,” you whimper, your heart stuttering in panic as you grasp weakly at his arm reaching between your spread thighs, “Dameron, this is—this is against the r-rules—”

“You keep saying that,” he comments, his fingers easily finding the opening in your jumpsuit no matter how hard you flex your thighs against bulky mechanics to try and close them.  “How clearly do you remember the rules?  What were the rules again?

You open your mouth to respond but his hand sliding under your panties and down just obliterates any chance you were going to attempt.  No words, nothing comes out but a shaky whine as his finger sinks into your soaking heat, going right for the kill.

“Come on, baby, the rules,” Dameron reminds you when you never give him an answer.  “Tell me.  No fucking, no jerking off, and…?”

You suddenly struggle forwards in a last-ditch attempt at preventing the inevitable, hoping you can scoot up enough in your seat to escape his reach from behind.  But fuck, your thighs have been shoved wide open for nearly eight hours—none of the muscles are working the way they should be anymore.  There’s just enough room in front of you to get there and you probably would’ve been able to do it at the beginning of the shift, even with his hand between your legs like this, but you’re sluggish and your thighs pull sharp and urgent with the movement.  The frantic maneuver enough to veer his fingers off course just slightly, moving one of your lips to the side at an angle, and you keep pushing against the pain no matter how useless it is.

“—No cumming,” he finishes for you, and his other hand is slithering up under your arm and groping one of your breasts through the jumpsuit before shoving you back tight up against your seat once more, totally helpless against it.  “Probably have another fifteen minutes or so before our shift ends.  Better hold it in, pretty baby, because this one is all you.”

“This—this isn’t fair, this is—”  The second the slippery pad of his finger presses hard against your clit, you’re biting your lip to cut off a breathless whimper that slips out.  “This is… is sab— sabotage— ”

“Oh, I know,” he moans next to your ear, mocking your high plea of distress with a fake, overly sympathetic whine.  “Feels so fucking good though, doesn’t it?”

Fuck, it does.  The build feels like an orgasm in itself, just working your way to it.  You’re already so unbelievably close after just a few seconds of direct stimulation, an obvious consequence of originally agreeing to such a hardcore edging workout.  You’re pouring sweat, so swollen and tight between your legs as you do everything you can to revolt against your body’s needs.

“Oh fuck, stop touching my clit—” you gasp raggedly, heart thundering in panic while your lower muscles start to immediately seize up, “oh—fuckfuckfuck— Poe, take your finger off m—”

Instead of doing it, his hand just slows down until the tip of his finger comes to a halt, maybe less than an inch over top of it.  You still can’t catch your breath though, not when you feel yourself throbbing against absolutely nothing, the calloused pad holding perfectly still over the bundle of nerves.  The swollen bud still arcs and flares at a steady frequency, building and building, and you choke out a wordless garble, absolutely fucking furious that this is what’s gonna make you cum.

“Don’t make me cum,” you switch up your sentence but not the terrified plead in your voice, the way it’s pitching up and out of control in the dead quiet of space.  He doesn’t even acknowledge it.  “Don’t make me cum, don—”

“Say it again,” he prompts instead, and lightning arcs up your spine.

“Poe,” you wheeze, the words coming from you without thought, your fingernails digging into his forearm even as your hips jerk up into his touch, “fuck, don’t make me cum, Poe—please don’t make me c—”

“But it’ll be so good,” he counters lowly, and your clit throbs in desperation at the richness of his voice when he speaks like this, saying things from deep in his chest.  “It’ll be so fucking good when it happens.  Stars, you’ll feel so much better, won’t you?  Cum right now and I’ll give you as many as I can until we have to go home.”

“N-No,” you whine, feeling his teeth scrape at the crook of your neck.  “No, I can’t—”

“Cum for me,” Dameron raises his voice, sharpening it into a direct order.  “Right now.  Come on— fucking make yourself lose.”

“But I—I—” you sob, starting to feel your body curl inwards, nearly about to succumb to the burning, the tightening, right on its last breath, “I-I don’t want to cum—”

“And I don’t fucking care,“ he hisses while your hands start flexing unintentionally, grasping helplessly at his immovable forearm where it disappears between your legs, the dark hair sliding under your fingertips as you claw desperately at it.  “You’ll fucking cum when I tell you to cum and you’ll like it, you disrespectful, cock-deprived, bratty little—”

And then everything goes dark.

No, literally.  The stars disappear.

The cockpit is suddenly shrouded in pitch blackness, and you’re almost certain it’s because you pass out, except then Dameron is all but ripping his hand out of your jumpsuit and cursing repeatedly in alarm.  You crumple in on yourself, eyes clamped shut and not hearing anything, right at the peak of your ecstasy and ready to soar into the light completely unassisted, your muscles doing all the work on their own—

“—shit, they’re way too close—” you hear his voice shout, “—we have to turn the engines on—Gold-Ten, baby, turn the fucking eng—”

You’re almost there, you’re almost there, you’re gonna cum, you’re gonna fucking—

Your first name, roared out in startling, blinding panic.

You don’t often hear it.  Just during roll calls mostly, but only if you’re flying with a different squadron and need a new temporary flight designation for the day.  First names hurt.  You can’t remember a time you’ve ever willingly told anybody yours.

Your head jerks up to look at his reflection but something else beyond the transparisteel takes immediate precedence.  Your brain takes about two seconds to catch up before thundering terror slams through you and halts your previously inevitable orgasm in its fucking tracks.  A runaway train about to launch off its tracks suddenly slamming directly into a megaton force-field of cold, hard fight or flight instincts.

A staggering fleet of First Order ships silently plunging out of hyperspace on all sides—your powered-down x-wing stationed right in the middle of the drop location.

***

Stay tuned for part two coming soon!!

[let-them-read-fics]

Blackpink HC / One Shots: Enemies to Lovers, College AU (1/2)

Requested: Yes

Warnings / Misc. -- Bickering, Rivalry, Fluff

A/N: Hey everyone! Anon, I assume you wanted to see each individual relationship with the girls and not OT4 x Reader. If not, I apologize, but I hope you enjoy this regardless.

This post includes Jisoo and Jennie. If you would like to see Rosé and Lisa's, click the link below.

Click for Rosé and Lisa

♡ Happy Reading ♡

🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤🖤

Jisoo

Kim Jisoo: The girl at the top of her class, breezing through her school years with little competition whatsoever. She was used to winning, and anyone that ever tried to challenge her eventually gave up.

You: Also used to being at the top of your class, you were the first person to actually give Jisoo a run for her money. You didn't shy away when challenged by her, and that took her aback.

Your rivalry was one rooted in academics.

When a new project was assigned and you were allowed to choose your teammates, everyone would flock to the two of you in hopes of getting picked.

Bragging rights were awarded to whoever had the longest line of people.

Impatiently waiting to see who scored higher on tests.

Rubbing it in when you did better, and vice versa.

"Ha! Take that, Jisoo. I got a 98."

"Don't get cocky, Y/N. I beat you by 6 points last week."

"Yeah, yeah," you brush her off. "Look who's on top now." You hold your paper up, smiling when she rolls her eyes.

Other competitions were held, and even the teachers caught on and would adjust their lessons accordingly.

"Class, today we'll be having a set of one on one debates, and an anonymous vote will determine the winner of each. The person who defends their opinion the most effectively will win. Jisoo and Y/N, you're up first."

Although losing was always annoying, it made you respect each other a little more.

You both loathed and revered each other, though you'd never let that secret out.

Fighting for the best scholarships and rankings.

Constant bickering and one liners in class

"Should I go ahead and apologize now, or is it okay to wait?"

"Apoligize for what?"

"Ending your career."

*unintelligible mumbling*

"What was that, Y/N?" Jisoo inquires, cocking her head to the side as she narrows her eyes at you.

"I said: you're going down."

She scoffs at that, unaffected. "Please, I'd like to see you try."

You ended up winning that day, and she was all *surprised pikachu*

School would always be interesting and eventful with her

Pretty much everyone else can tell that you have a thing for one another, but the two of you remain oblivious.

Turning Point

Both of you joined the academic team when you enrolled, which meant that you'd be going toe to toe with other school teams in pursuit of the winning title.

On one of your overnight field trips to face off against another school, you were assigned to the same hotel room.

"Mrs. Wilson, I can't stay with her--" You walk down the hotel hallway behind your instructor, hoping she'll see your point. Her reasoning for putting you together on the roster is beyond you.

"Y/N, it's only for a night. You know we can't afford to give all of you individual rooms; our budget's already small." She reasons, eventually turning towards you when she reaches the elevator.

"Alright," you relent with a sigh, putting your hands up.

What she says next surprises you. "Who knows, you might enjoy it." A knowing look shines in her eye, and a small smirk threatens to tug at her features.

The elevator dings just as you go to question her about it, and she bids you farewell before heading in.

You can do this, Y/N. It's just one night; how bad can it be? You ask yourself, taking your sweet time in going back to the room.

---

An Hour Later

In an attempt to kill some time and recover from the fatigue your long road trip brought on, you've been trying to relax and take a nap. In fashion with your typical luck, though, Jisoo is making that nearly impossible.

"Jisoo, turn it down!" You groan, tossing a pillow at her head. She sits on the loveseat at the foot of your bed, completely fixated on the images flashing before her eyes as she plays her video game.

"Shhh, stop distracting me." She says over her shoulder, making you huff.

You value your pride too much to ask nicely, so you suck it up and stick it out for a little while longer. When she lets out a loud shout a few minutes later, though, you've reached the end of your patience.

Wordlessly, you get out of bed and stomp over to the TV, standing directly in front of it.

"Y/N, move! I'll lose!"

You stay there with your arms crossed, and are soon rewarded by the game's voiceover announcing: "Game over."

She huffs and sets her controller down, clearly upset.

"Sucks when people don't listen, huh?" You challenge, still mad that you've been denied a proper nap for so long. Every time you'd be right on the cusp of being drug under, slipping in and out of glorious slumber, she'd do something to ruin it. You're cranky now, and being petty seems like a just punishment for her.

"I can't believe you did that," she shakes her head and rolls her eyes. "That was the championship match!"

"Oh well," you shrug, a smirk tugging at your lips at that new piece of info. Perhaps justice has been served after all.

With one more warning glance at her to tell her not to do it again, you go back to the bed and get comfy, settling under the warm blankets.

---

30 Minutes Later

"ON YOUR RIGHT, ABOUT TO ROUND THE CORNER!" Jisoo bellows out, smirking when she feels you stir behind her. You scowl, wiping the sleep from your eyes.

"Jisoo, I swear to God," you grumble, feeling the irritation rise in you all over again. You get up again and approach her, but she has a plan this time. In one fluid motion, she sticks her foot out in front of you, making you stumble and fall to the ground.

"What the--" as you prepare to reprimand her, you see something out of your peripheral. Aided by your new perspective, you spot the remote controller on the coffee table right in front of you, just an arm's length away.

When Jisoo notices that you haven't screamed at her yet, she looks down and realizes her mistake. A dramatic moment passes where you both lock eyes, before immediately diving for the remote. You manage to get to it first, quickly hugging it close to your body and rolling away from her. She pounces a second later, reaching her hands around you to pry it from your grip.

"Give it back, Y/N!"

"No!"

You writhe underneath her until she manages to get the upper hand, straddling your hips in an attempt to pin you down. She sits back on her knees, gazing down at you as your chests heave from the effort you've exerted.

"Give it." She commands, holding her hand out expectantly.

You shake your head, amused that she thought that would be enough to sway you. "No."

"Then you leave me no choice." Her hands dart forward to your abdomen, and she begins tickling you mercilessly in order to make you surrender. Calls for her to cease her assault struggle past your lips, but you know it's futile. She's a determined person just like you, and she won't stop until she gets what she wants.

So, after taking a second to think of a way out of your predicament, a brilliant idea pops into your head.

You finally let her pry your arms open, smirking when she cheers and claims victory. In one fluid motion, just as she had done before, you wrap your leg around one of hers and flip her onto her back before leaning down to kiss her. She tenses up at first, but her hands end up working their way to your hips as her lips begin to move against yours.

Your plan is backfiring a bit; you only intended to shock her and buy yourself time to steal the remote back -- you never thought you'd actually enjoy the feeling of her kiss. You tilt your head to the side to get a better angle and slowly skim your hand down to hers, where the device is tightly clutched. Her other hand has come up to your jaw, which she's gently guiding as she steals another kiss from your lips.

Her distracted state made it easy to get what you were after, and soon -- much too soon for Jisoo's liking -- you pull away with a victorious smile. She doesn't know what to say; in all honesty, she's almost forgotten how to breathe with the way you kissed her senseless.

"I win." You grin, hopping off of her and shutting the TV off before crawling back into the bed. She stays in that same position for a couple minutes, laying on the floor as she tries to sort through what the hell just happened. She can't even be upset right now; she brings her fingertips to her lips, skimming them over the heart-shaped pillows as she smiles.

The Fallout

Things were a little tense when you shared the bed that night

Anytime you'd roll over and readjust your head on the pillow in your sleep, unknowingly positioning your lips dangerous close to hers, her heartbeat would pick up and she'd have to roll over again

You pretended to be asleep when she scooted back against you, pressing herself against your front in search of the heat that your body provided. You brought an arm around her, enclosing her in a soft embrace that had her blushing crimson

Subtle flirting at the competition the next day

Sticking up for each other when one of the other teams got a little rude

"Hey, don't talk about her like that!" Jisoo warns, glaring at the student from your rival school. His uniform is mussed and unkempt, leaving it as no surprise that he was the one to say such a thing.

"Why do you care?" He laughs back, spurred on as his friends snicker along.

The question catches her off guard; just days ago, she was the one bantering with you and testing your limits. Now though, when someone else is taking it too far, she can't help but feel angry. "Because she's my teammate. Now knock it off or I'll report you to your dean for unsportsmanlike behavior."

He scoffs, but eventually opts to grumble out another insult and turn away, nursing his bruised ego.

"Thanks, Chu." You quietly say, having witnessed the whole encounter from the row behind her. A small smile tugs at your lips at her actions, warming your heart.

"No problem, Y/N. But you'd better help me beat him; I'm not losing to that idiot." You laugh and agree, shaking her hand to seal your pact. She tries not to get too caught up on the smoothness of your skin or how it reminds her of last night, but her brain doesn't listen.

Needless to say, you beat them.

Your team stopped by a nice restaurant on the way back home for a celebratory dinner

Jisoo sat beside you

Cue the blushing and quiet flirting

It's a new side of her that you're not used to seeing. Now, instead of being all hardcore and witty, a simple look from you can make her blush

It doesn't always, though; sometimes she grows bold and lays a hand on your thigh for a moment, laughing at something you said

It's giving very much so gay panic™️, but you wouldn't trade it for the world

After the dinner, you go back to the bus and sit in your seats (which aren't together, surprisingly).

As you scroll through your phone, you get a text from Jisoo. Attached to the message is an invitation to one of her favorite mobile games.

"Hey, Y/N. Will you be my player 2? 🎮"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

Jennie

Jennie Kim: The girl who practically ran the school, always getting her way and never having to lift a finger. She was royalty: the queen bee sat atop her throne, giving orders to the masses that they followed blindly. The whole situation seemed straight out of a poorly-written teenage movie, and it always annoyed you.

You: The girl who stuck to herself, only having a close group of friends that she talked to. You weren't popular, per se, but you weren't cursed to exist at the bottom of the food chain, either. Many people knew you, but you only associated with a select few.

You avoid the "popular" crowd a majority of the time, opting to spend spare time in between classes in the library or outside, doing homework

Jennie is the type of person that has people lined up, waiting for her to ask them to do hers for her. She gets to skip class and do whatever she wants, and she usually takes advantage of that.

She's never been mean to you directly, but you've seen her and her posse pick on people in typical mean girl fashion

You've never noticed the way that she usually targets people who've said bad things about you. She sticks up for you without you even knowing.

So, as you would expect, when your best friend called you and begged you to accompany her to one of the biggest parties of the year (hosted by none other than Jennie's brother), you were definitely surprised. Neither of you are the type to go to anything like that, but you know that she secretly wants to peek into that world of luxury.

"Pleaaaaase, Y/N? I'll do your laundry for a month."

"Fine."

The Turning Point

Your stylish boots crunch lightly against the concrete as you stand outside of the frat house, grimacing when you notice a boy stumble to the side of the house and get sick.

"We might have to bump that offer up to two months," you say to your friend, leaning onto her car as she checks her makeup in the side mirror.

"If it keeps you here for an hour or so, then fine." She smiles, taking your hand and leading you towards the building. Upon opening the door you're immediately greeted by waves of the strong bass of whatever song is playing. Their rhythmic thumps reverberate around the house, and you choose to seek some semblance of peace and quiet by heading to the kitchen. Your friend comes with, and the two of you push your way to the drink bar for refreshments.

"Thanks again for coming along, Y/N/N. You're the best." She leans into you, saying the phrase loud enough for you to hear over the music.

"I know," you hold your head up higher, self-assured. "You'd better go find Benji before things get too wild," you tell her, taking note of how the crowd is quickly growing in size. Benji, her longtime crush, is the only reason you really agreed to tag along; she's been head over heels for him for as long as you've known her, and you see this as the perfect opportunity for her to finally tell him. She needed some backup, and you always come through for your friends.

"Alright, I'll come find you later," she says, nervously smiling as she kisses your cheek as a farewell. You shout encouragement to her retreating figure, grinning wildly when you see her throw her hand up in the air.

Considering you made a drink for her just then before sending her off, you take the time now to make one for yourself. Your hands skim through the air overtop of the different bottles, searching for your favorite flavors and types to mix. As you go to reach across the table for one of them, disaster strikes.

You gasp as cold liquid lands on your shoulder, following gravity's command and rushing down your back and chest. A flurry of apologies follows suit, and you feel a soft hand on the small of your back as you go to turn around.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry," Jennie says, covering her mouth in shock. For a moment you're worried that she was dared to do this -- that perhaps her friends sent her off to ruin your outfit and embarrass you. When you find sincere regret in her deep brown eyes, though, all of those worries melt away.

"It's alright," you assure her, shaking your arms to get rid of some of the sticky drink that's trailed its way down. You set your half-filled cup on the table, no longer interested in getting anymore now.

"At least let me wash the shirt for you. I have a coat you can wear while its getting clean."

You furrow your brows at the offer, not expecting that from her. Not only has she apologized, which is practically unheard of from the prima donna, but she's willing to do something for another person?

"Uh, okay." You do your best to mask the confusion in your tone, but it's still plain to see.

"Follow me," she politely instructs, leading you down the hall towards what you assume is the laundry room.

She flips the light on and shuts the door behind you, walking into the closet to search for the spare set of close she keeps here.

When she emerges again, fluffy coat in hand, she begins stumbling over the words she was about about to say. Her eyes land on you, taking in the expanse of exposed skin now that you've stripped off the shirt you were wearing. She can't help but admire the sight; she subconsciously bites her lip, only being brought back to reality when you wave your hand in front of her face.

"Hello? Earth to Jennie?"

"What?" She eventually asks, shaking her head to rid herself of the thoughts swarming in it. She's always had a sort of thing for you, but she never imagined you could look that good. It should be a crime.

"I asked if you have a bathroom around here, so I can, ya know... wash up a bit. Whatever you had to drink is pretty sticky." You chuckle, moving your arm to show her how far it's spread.

"This room over here," she says, approaching a door on the wall opposite you, "is actually a bathroom. Convenient, right?" She asks, flipping the light on for you.

"Absolutely," you perk up, glad to know that you won't have to strut down the hall in your sports bra to get to a bathroom.

She steps to the side and pushes the door open for you, nearly melting when you give her a little wave and shut it behind yourself. She's got it bad.

She takes your shirt and throws it in the washer before setting the knobs correctly, knowing the best combos by heart. She and her brother are close, so it's not uncommon for her to come by and help him with chores when he gets swamped.

A few minutes later you come out of the bathroom clean and dry, nervously fidgeting with your hands as she turns to look at you again. Having the Jennie Kim looking at you in such a way and having her so close is a bit overwhelming, and you're not exactly sure how to deal with it.

"Here," she says, reaching around you to slide her jacket onto your arms. Her face hovers dangerously close to yours as she does, making you hold your breath in anticipation. She pulls the jacket closed, adjusting it so that it lays right, and you look into her eyes.

"Thanks, Jen."

Her heart speeds up at the nickname, though she tries not to show it.

"No problem, sweet thing." She flirts, taking you aback.

Just as you go to say something more, the door blasts open and a couple of her friends pop in. "There you are Jennie! What are you-- oh," they say, watching as the two of you spring apart.

When they realize who you are, they laugh among themselves. "What're you doing in here with her?" They ask, looking you up and down before ultimately appearing unimpressed. Jennie glances at you again, and you can see her going through some sort of inner turmoil.

"Thank God you guys showed up; she won't quit talking. I was just about to leave." She laughs, regaining the bitchy aura that she's known for. You set your jaw and nod, remembering why you choose to stay away from people like them.

"Wow, Jennie. You really had me fooled," you bite back, a bit shocked, but not surprised. You keep your eyes on hers as you take her jacket off and let it drop to the floor in front of her, grabbing a spare towel from the hamper on your way out the door. Her friends scoff at you, wondering what such a nobody like you thinks they're doing treating Jennie like that. You brush past them and send her one last look, conveying all the emotions you feel with a mere glance.

She's disappointed in herself, and she hangs her head as the girls scoop the designer material up and hand it to her.

----

45 Minutes Later

Just 15 more minutes, Y/N; totally doable. You reason with yourself. Jennie left the laundry room soon after you, leaving it vacant for you to put your shirt in the dryer and retrieve it when it was done. Now, clad in the warm material, you sit outside by the fire. Stars are shining brightly in the night sky, illuminating it so beautifully that your mind is taken off of what happened. They twinkle for you, and the sight puts you at ease.

What has that pleasant feeling dissipating in a second, however, is the sound of Jennie's voice as she exits the patio door.

She's talking to her friends about some boy that's in love with her, as the whole school seems to be, and you roll your eyes. With the moment officially ruined, you decide to head back into the house and spend the rest of your sentence there.

Once you stand up from your seat and turn around to take your leave, her friends notice you. "Jesus, you're really obsessed, aren't you? Are you following her or something?" One of them, a snarky blonde from earlier, asks.

You laugh at that. "Hardly," you glance at Jennie, though she avoids eye contact. "I'm sure you'd like that, though. Give you something to talk about other than your split ends." She reels back at your boldness, prepared to start a fight.

"You bitc--"

"Stop," Jennie finally steps in, cutting the girl off. She moves between the two of you, putting a hand on your chest and looking into your eyes.

"Jennie, I don't know what her problem is," the blonde squeaks out, trying to defend her actions.

"The problem doesn't lie with her," she tells her, leaving her puzzled. Jennie continues, "I lied earlier; I'm the one who invited her to the laundry room because I spilled my drink on her." You narrow your eyes at her following her statement, wondering where she's going with this.

"We probably would've kissed, too, if you hadn't walked in."

Your heart speeds up a little at that, but you're still hurt by what she did earlier. Having her be one way with you in private and another in public is never a good sign.

"I'm done with you guys. You turn me into something I'm not," she looks between the small following that's accrued, letting them know how she's been feeling for the past bit. The majority of them are stuck up and entitled, and seeing the hurt in your eyes put things into perspective for her. She likes you, and she wants to be better because of that.

"I don't understand, Jennie," one of them asks, sounding like she's on the brink of tears. Are these people really that invested? You know the hierarchy of popularity is confusing, but they make it seem like she's breaking up with them.

"We're not friends anymore. Not until you get your heads out of your asses and start being nicer."

The crowd clearly doesn't know how to react at her sudden change in attitude, but they mutter out various responses before some of them break away.

You look down at her and glance to the house, wordlessly telling her to follow you so that you can have a moment alone to talk. You lead her over to the patio and stand against the wall.

"I'm sorry," she says, sounding relieved to finally get the words out. Her previous actions have been weighing heavily on her, and she's been doing some introspection. It's not entirely all of a sudden, though; she's been questioning why she still hangs out with them for a while now. This encounter just confirmed her desire to leave them.

"I shouldn't have lied like that. I know it hurt you." She looks away, feeling disappointed again.

"Yeah, it definitely wasn't fun to have my crush talk about me like that." You nod, shoving your hands into your pockets.

"Crush?" Her head raises up, doing a terrible job of concealing the hopefulness she feels blossoming.

"Crush." You lightly smile at the way she blushes at your simple confirmation. She's too adorable for her own good; it's really no wonder than she has everyone on their knees for her.

"Thank you for apologizing," you say after a moment, nudging her shoulder gently. "It's more than your posse usually gives, so I appreciate it. You'd better mean it, though." You cock your head at her expectantly, a hint of warning in your tone.

"You have my word," she smiles, determined to make sure the opportunity you're giving her doesn't go to waste.

The Fallout

In the following weeks, she cut ties with more and more toxic people, causing a bit more drama to stir up, but she didn't care. You were by her side through all of it, as were your friends, and she saw what true community looks like. She had so many people at her beck and call back then, but none of them cared as much as your close knit group. They were in it because of her status, not because of her.

Walking her to class

Both of you sticking up for each other if people try to start stuff

Helping her correct her bad habits if she starts to get judgemental with someone or slips back into her old ways

Being patient with her

Her spoiling you randomly to show how thankful she is for you

"Miss L/N, we have a Candy Gram for you. Sent by Jennie Kim." A staff member says upon entering the classroom, walking the package over to you. You grin widely as you open the note attached to it.

"Come see me after class, Y/N/N. I have something for you."

You were excited for the rest of class

You rode your bike back to her dorm, parking it outside before knocking on the door.

"Hey, Jendeukie. What do you have for--"

You're abruptly cut off by her lips pressing against yours as her hands pull you in, turning you to mush. You sink into her arms and kiss back, reveling in the feeling of finally having this moment with her. You've been waiting for it ever since the party.

"I've wanted to do that for so long," she softly admits, resting her forehead against yours. "I hope I didn't overstep." You can hear the nervousness in her voice, and you smile at how cute she is.

"Quite the opposite, actually. Come here," you pull her in again, lifting her up into your arms as you walk into her dorm. She squeals at the sudden move, but the sound is quickly muffled as you lean in to kiss her again.

[icantthinkofanythingcool3]

if you’re still doing short blurbs from that list I’d love to see 14! I love your writing :)

Allison is alive in this one, I really like writing with her in it!

I promise I'm trying to get to everyone's requests! Hope you enjoy!<3

Life had been….interesting since I found out my best friends were...otherworldly. At first I had been in complete shock and I thought my friends were messing with me, that was until Scott showed me his fangs and glowing eyes. Then, I had a slight panic attack until Stiles and Lydia calmed me down. I avoided them for a few days after they explained it all to me and when I finally approached them, my request baffled them.

“I need Allison to teach me how to fight.” I said confidently to the group.

At first they all looked at me, “You want-wait, -WHAT? You don’t talk to us for days and that’s the first thing you say to us?” Scott asked me, incredulous.

“Well yeah. I mean, if I’m gonna have a bunch of werewolf, banshee, hunter, and previously possessed by a demon friends then I need to know how to defend myself. I’m not going to be that defenseless human, making it harder for all of you to fight.”

“Y/n...you’re absolutely crazy, and I love it.” Allison said to me.

It took my other friends some convincing, but Allison was completely on board with showing me what she knew. Her dad even helped us a lot with training. I had become really close to them and honestly, they we’re the closest thing I had to a family, not considering the pack of course. I even started staying with them, to make training easier, or so that’s what I said. Although, I think they knew better and they welcomed me with open arms. It took 5 months before I was confident in my abilities, but Allison and Chris were convinced I was a natural at it from the beginning.

The only person who was still adamantly against the idea of it, was Stiles. He was the closest person to me in the group, he was also the one I had known the longest. Scott came in close second, seeing as him and Stiles were never really far apart. Somewhere in the 7 years I had known Stiles, I fell madly in love with him and I was pretty sure he felt the same way. We were always hanging out outside of the group, we always had to be touching each other, and we knew all of each other's secrets. But, with everything going on, we never admitted it or took it to the next level. Even if I wanted to run up and kiss him every single time I saw him.

“Y/n, I’m really not okay with this. I don’t want you out there fighting this shit with us. Scott and Isaac and them- they can all heal themselves. If you get hurt, we could lose you… I could lose you. And that just can’t happen.” Stiles confided in me, shortly after my training had started.

“I get it Stiles, trust me I do. But, you’re out there all the time in the middle of it. I could lose YOU just as easily, I can’t sit around and wait to see if my best friends come home alive. I want to HELP you guys, I want to help you…”

“I just, I can’t be okay with this, I’m sorry.”

Stiles had walked away from me that day and ignored me for a solid week. But that’s all it lasted. He couldn’t be any more mad at me than I could be at him. But after that week, there were some subtle differences in our relationship. If we were hanging out as a group, he would always sit next to me, if we were walking together he would always pull me as close as possible to him, and he would come to every single lesson I had with the Argents. Although these were not big, huge changes, it was something everyone had noticed.

I had used some of my training on messing around with Liam and Malia. They were always helpful, letting me use the things I was learning on them to practice with someone with long scary fangs. I hadn’t gotten a chance to use it in real life though, that was until a pack of omegas came into town.

Apparently, they felt like they had to ‘prove’ themselves to Scott, since he was a True Alpha. I’m not sure how fighting his pack was going to show that, but they came in ready for a brawl.

At first, I was confident in myself, almost getting attacked a few times just for Allison to save me. However, after a few ‘you can do it’ looks from her, I was totally kicking ass.

Liam threw one over my head,---CRASH! Right into the wall, sending wood splinters everywhere.

I knocked on over the head with a chair, she fell to the floor.

Allison sent an arrow right through one’s arm, Scott coming in for the tackle soon after.

I was keeping an eye on Stiles and Lydia, who were in one corner, Lydia ready to scream if she needed to.

One tried to jump on Scott’s back and I sliced him with the ring dagger Allison and Chris got me after one month of training with them. In the heat of the moment, I caught Stiles, with his bat, standing in front of Lydia, one of the bigger omegas coming towards them. In two seconds flat I was bounding across the room, before the omega could get to them. I jumped on his back. I took my dagger and sliced across his stomach, earning a very angry howl that shook the whole room. With his glowing eyes turned toward me, I knew I was in trouble. I had just severely pissed him off. Before I knew it he was coming to me faster than I could react. I watched him leap toward me, seeing my life flash before my eyes. I held my dagger up, hoping I could at least get a few more slices before he killed me. Then, suddenly he was flying across the room, Scott and Malia having leaped into him. Before I could get a chance to breathe, another one was coming towards me, but I was prepared this time.

10 more minutes of fighting and the omegas ran away, tails between their legs. We were all catching our breaths, surprised we had gotten through that relatively unscathed. Scott and Malia were the closest to me.

“Thanks for the help back there guys, I thought I was a goner.” I laughed, relieved to be alive.

“We work as a team, that’s how we get through fights like this.” Scott said, very Alpha like.

When I turned, Stiles was behind me, “Thank you y/n, you really saved my ass back there, I don’t think my bat was gonna help this time. I’m really sorry I was so against you learning how to fight, you really are a natural.” The look in his eyes was something I hadn’t seen before.

“Well I wasn’t gonna let that motherfucker kill my best friend, that's for sure.” I tried to lighten the mood, not wanting Stiles to feel bad.

In the next moment, his lips were on mine. I didn’t hesitate to kiss back. His lips were soft and felt like they were made for mine. I never wanted this to stop, this was all I had wanted for so long. My eyes were closed, but I could feel the pack’s eyes on us making me pull from him.

“You’re more than my best friend, and I’m sorry I was too much of a coward to do anything about it before. But I love you y/f/n y/l/n.”

“I love you too, Stiles Stilinski. Now kiss me again, we have a lot of time to make up for.” And our lips crashed together again, not caring this time about the stares. Or the round of applause and whistles our friends were throwing our way.

[wzrd-wheezes]

George Weasley x Reader - Stay Here.

A/N: Hello! I’m back with another fic and this time it’s a George one. This is the longest fic I’ve written so far and the first time that I’ve written any smut (there’s only a little bit right at the end so if you’re under 18 don’t read it) please let me know if you enjoy!

Warnings: fluffy smut. its nothing too bad but don’t read if you’re under 18. there’s also a bit of angst and mentions of cheating in relationships. Quite a lot of swearing as well. 

2.5k words 

masterlist here

“Don’t fucking speak to her like that.” George step foot into their house, “if I were you, I’d let go of her arm and let her come with me. She clearly doesn’t want to be with a piece of shit like you,”

“No! You do this every time! Every single fucking time you tell me that it won’t happen again and it always fucking does,” Y/N yelled.

“It’s not like that! You know it’s not like that, babe.” Her boyfriend tried to calm her down.

             “Don’t you ‘babe’ me after what you’ve done. This is the third time now! What do you expect me to do, let you cheat on me time and time again and keep giving you chance after chance?” she stormed up the stairs and into their bedroom.

             “I didn’t cheat! Jess is just a friend!” he yelled, following her into bedroom

             “Last time I checked, you don’t fuck your friends,” she grabbed a bag from the closet and began throwing clothes into it.

             “You’re one to talk, that ginger little prick you’re friends with is constantly up your arse. He basically undresses you with his eyes every time you’re together!”

             “Don’t try and turn this around on me. George is my friend, and you know that. You’re just jealous because I enjoy spending time with him because he isn’t a dick like you are.” She turned around to leave the room. Her boyfriend grabbed her arm and pulled her back in, slamming the door shut and leaning against it.

             “I swear to god, if you don’t move out of my way…” she drew her wand out and pointed it at him. She barged past him and into the bathroom, locking the door behind her. She took her phone from her pocket and held it to her ear.

             “Please, please can you come and get me.”

 A short while later there was a knock at the door. Y/N rushed to get there before her boyfriend did but by the time she had reached the last step the front door had already been swung open.

             “What the fuck are you doing here?” her boyfriend spat.

             “I’ve come to pick Y/N up,” George replied firmly. Her boyfriend span around quickly to look at her.

             “Oh, of course you rang him,” he raged, “why aren’t I surprised?”

             “Jack, can you please just get out of the way,” Y/N pleaded, trying to get around him.

             “Why should I? so you can go to his house and fuck him like you’ve always wanted to,” he pointed at George accusingly.

             “Don’t fucking speak to her like that.” George step foot into their house, “if I were you, I’d let go of her arm and let her come with me. She clearly doesn’t want to be with a piece of shit like you,”

             “And why should I-”

George didn’t even give him time to reply before landing a harsh punch on his jaw. Jack staggered back a few paces, fury spreading over his face before launching himself at George. George fell backwards against the wall, holding Jack at arms-length.

             “Y/N, go and get in the car,” he strained, “I’ll be out in a minute.”

She did as he said and got into the passenger seat of his car. She sat in silence for a few moments before breaking down into fits of tears. What was she going to do? Her whole life had been shattered before her very eyes. She didn’t have anywhere to live now that she had walked out. After what seemed like an age, George returned to the car, slamming the door shut as he got in.

             “He’s a right foul, git, d’you know that?” he wiped some blood off of his lip. Y/N nodded silently and began sobbing again. George didn’t say another word the whole journey back to his flat. The pair sat in silence, Y/N gazed out of the window into the night, looking at all the lit-up houses and wondering if they were filled with happy couples. The car slowed as they arrived at George’s. He still had noy spoken a word. Walking round to the other side of the car, he opened Y/N’s door for her. It was as she stood up in front of him, he realised how broken she looked. Her eyes that used to light up at his jokes were bloodshot. Her normally rosy cheeks now tearstained. The girl that stood in front of him looked small and scared.

             “C’mon, let’s go inside.” He took her hand and led here through the front door.

George and Fred still lived together, their home was a place of sanctuary for Y/N when her and Jack used to fall out. She had spent countless nights on their sofa in front of the fire. As they walked through the hallway, she noticed the glow of the living room light peaking out under the doorway. Fred was still awake. George opened the door for her and ushered her through.

             “Where the bloody hell have you been? It’s getting la-” Fred’s sentence trailed off as her caught sight of Y/N, tears still leaking from her eyes. His eyes then glanced over to George, who’s nose was still a bit bloody and his lip now swelling up.

             “What the fuck happened?” Fred sounded astonished.

             “Jack and I broke up,” Y/N choked out, “I found out he was cheating on me again,”

             “He’s a right nasty piece of work,” Fred stood up, “d’you want me to go round there and sort him out?”

             “I sorted it,” George confirmed, sitting down on the sofa, “Chuck me that box of tissues will you, Fred?” He cleaned up the rest of the blood from his nose. Y/N sat down next to George. The three made conversation for a few moments.

             “I’m going to go to bed, give me a shout if you need anything, yeah?” Fred departed.

 Y/N and George sat in silence again, until Y/N spoke.

             “I’m sorry,” her words seemed to echo in the silent room.

             “What are you on about?” George raised an eyebrow at her.

             “I’m sorry that you always have to sort me out,” she sniffed, “I’m sorry that every single time Jack and I used to argue you had to come and get me. I’m sorry that he hurt you and I’m sorry that you have to put up with me being all upset,”

             “Oh, Y/N,”

             “I’m just, I’m really scared, George. I can’t go back there. All my stuff is there. I don’t have a home anymore.”

             “I know, love.” He looked sad, “but you’re away from him now. And in the meantime, you can stay here and you can have a job at our shop until we get you back on your feet.”

             “Really? You’d do all that for me?” she turned round to look at him properly. It was the first time in a while that George had really seen her up close. He’d always thought that she was beautiful and dare he even say, he’d always had a bit of a soft spot for her. But it just so happened that she had always had a boyfriend. Besides, George was certain that she didn’t see him in that way.

             “Of course, I would, Y/N, you’re my friend.” That last word seemed to ring in his ears as soon as it left his mouth. Friend. That was all that he was to her. Her friend. She leaned into him and rested her head on his shoulder.

             “Thank you, Georgie.”

 Y/N had been living with Fred and George for a few weeks now. She filled her days by working long hours in the joke shop. She didn’t mind though; it kept her mind off of things and allowed her to spend some more time with the twins. She had grown even closer with them in the last few weeks, particularly with George. They would stay up late at night to speak to each other, even though they both had work early in the morning. If Y/N didn’t feel like she had a wedge of ice stabbed through her heart, she might have said that she was falling for George. She knew that it was probably going to take a while for her to begin to trust people again, for her to be ready to give her all to someone, knowing that they could take it all away from her, like had been done in the past though. Surely, though, if she was going to fall for anyone, George Weasley would be perfect. He was kind and patient and funny. He made Y/N know that he was there for her when she was feeling down. It was on one of Y/N’s days off from the shop that Fred confronted his brother about it.

               “You love her.” He said bluntly, as he refilled the shelves of Weather in a Bottle. George stayed quiet, “You do,”

             “I know, Fred. I know I do,” George looked distressed, “but she doesn’t see me like that,”

             “I know you’re my twin brother and everything, Georgie, but bloody hell you’re not as clever as me,” Fred teased, “It’s obvious.”

             “What is?”

             “That she likes you back, you muppet,” Fred laughed, “have you not seen the way she looks at you? Like you’re shining the sun out of your arse.” George chuckled, shaking his head at his twin. For the rest of the day he found himself smiling. All his thoughts were filled with Y/N, he couldn’t wait to get home. When he eventually step foot into their flat, they began their nightly routine of having dinner together and then chilling out in front of the fire. Y/N was sprawled out on the sofa reading her book, her head resting in George’s lap as he watch the T.V. For some reason, he felt nervous being around her, like he should make some sort of move or something.

             “You look tense,” Y/N sat up and turned to face him, “what’s up?”

             “Nothing, I’m just a bit tired that’s all,”

Y/N put her head against his shoulder, nudging her way in so his arm was around her. George shot her a quizzical look.

             “I just wanted a cuddle,” she shrugged, “sleeping on this sofa is killing my back,”

             “You can have my bed tonight if you want,” George offered smiling at her. She stood up and made her way out of the living room.

             “Night, then?” George said, puzzled.

             “Are you not coming? I’m sure we can both squeeze into your bed.”

 George grinned as he climbed into his bed next to her. They lay facing each other for a little while, neither of them muttering a word. Y/N’s nose was practically touching his, he could feel the warmth of her breathe on his face. She fluttered her eyes shut for a moment. George mustered up all the courage he could find and placed a soft kiss on her lips. Her eyes snapped open, and for a second, she looked a bit taken aback. George’s heart sank for moment, until her lips met his for the second time. She was kissing him. It was as if all of the fireworks in their joke shop had gone off inside of him. What started out as a sweet kiss deepened as George crept his tongue into her mouth. He could feel her lips smiling against his and she climbed on top of him. He sat up, wrapping his arms around her waist to pull him closer to her. Y/N’s hands grabbed at the hem of his t-shirt, jerking it off of him. She trailed her kisses down from his lips to his neck. George groaned slightly. Her kisses moved down to his shoulder and she started making her way down his kiss, leaving fleeting kisses as she moved.

             “Wait, Y/N,” George mumbled.

             “What?” She pushed her hair out of her face so she could look at him.

             “This isn’t just… I don’t know how to say it,” he looked worried.

             “Just say it, Georgie,” Y/N moved so she was straddling him now.

             “I’m not just some rebound to you, am I?” he blurted out, “because I don’t want to do this if it doesn’t mean anything.” Y/N smiled at him.

             “Of course you’re not just a rebound,”

             “Good. Because I love you, Y/N, I really, really do,” he smiled, “it broke my heart seeing you all upset. I just wanted to be the one to make you feel better.”

             “You have, George. I promise you, you have. I think I love you too. I’m just so, so scared of getting my heart broken again,”

             “I could never do that, love.” George sat up, so that once again, their noses were brushing against each other. This time, he kissed her more passionately. Flipping her over so that she was lying beneath him, her hair splayed out on his pillow. He toyed with the hem of her shirt for a few seconds before removing it and throwing it onto the floor. Wet kisses were placed against her neck and he began moving down her body, leaving gentle kisses along the waistband of her pyjama bottoms before removing them as well. Positioning himself between her legs, he took a final look at the girl that lay in front of him before slipping a finger inside of her. She gasped and tangled her hands in his hair as he began to lap at her.

“You sure you want to carry on?” he asked.

             “Please,” she nodded.

             “If you change your mind, just tell me to stop, okay?” The girl nodded again. Quickly, he removed his underwear and moved so that he was hovering over her, his arms either side of her head. He positioned himself and entered her slowly, giving her time to adjust before he quickened his pace. Y/N gasped and wrapped her arms around his neck, pulling his body against hers. George was moaning gently in her ear, whispering sweet nothings as he fucked her.

             “You’re so beautiful, Y/N. I hope you know that.”

 The next morning, Y/N woke up with her body entangled with George’s. One of his long arms wrapped around her waist and his legs intertwined with hers.

             “Good morning, darling,” he smiled softly. His hair was all messed up from the activities of the night before.

             “Morning,” Y/N beamed back at him.

             “We better get up before Fred wonders where we both are.”

 As the pair entered the living room, they were greeted by Fred, who sat on the sofa staring at them with a knowing look.

             “I go to bed early one night and you two can’t keep your hands off each other,” he chucked, shaking his head at them jokingly, “I don’t even want to know what happened in there last night, all I know is that Lee owes me 5 galleons.”

             “Why?” Y/N asked, raising an eyebrow at him.

             “He didn’t reckon that you two would get together this side of Christmas,” he grinned, “I was right, of course, I knew it wouldn’t take you two long.”  

[sassyhobbits]

for one night standards would you write a scene where aelin cant be found in the castle maybe bc shes doing sth ridiculous with her daughter like a mother daughter photoshoot to surprise rowan with later but when rowan can't find her he gets all panicked and out of his mind bc he still has unresolved trauma from when she was kidnapped and its all angsty until he has both back in his arms but also gives rowan a chance to talk and work through his experience with aelin gone? (because lets face it he probably ignores his feelings about that as much as possible in order to not burden aelin further and because it was just too painful)

loved this idea!!! i also added the prompt “Because I know when I open my eyes this will all turn out to be a dream and I’ll lose you again“ Thank you to everyone who supported ONS!! i had such a fun time writing it and im always happy to come back to it. enjoy!!

~~~

Rowan Whitethorn was generally a patient man.

He knew how to wait his turn, to take his time. He was always one to raise a brow at those who seemed to be in a harried rush to everything. It seemed stressful, to say the least. He was perfectly content to sit back when needed.

Except for now.

He had made a trip back home to Doranelle to surprise Isolde for her graduation from her masters program. Aelin had wanted to come as well, but with the baby and the responsibilities she had back in Orynth, it just hadn’t worked out. Still, she sent her well-wishes to Isolde through a video chat, letting little Eliora babble into the camera and say hello as well.

Their daughter was just over six months now, already growing far too fast for Rowan’s liking. He treasured every moment he got to spend with his two favorite girls.

And although he was always happy to see his family back in Doranelle, it had been the longest he had been away since Eliora had been born. It made him highly impatient to return home.

His jet touched down in Terrasen in the early afternoon. It was summer, though the day was mild. The sky was a vivid blue, fat white clouds floating lethargically on the breeze. Absolutely beautiful.

Due to the time difference, he hadn’t been able to call Aelin before he had got on the plane. He tried to reach her as he slid into the dark sedan that would drive him from the airport to the palace, but all he got was her voicemail.

Maybe she was in the shower, or changing Eliora’s diaper. Maybe their daughter had a finicky night of sleeping and now the pair were trying to catch up on their slumber. It was fine. Or so Rowan told himself. He still hadn’t been able to stop the small clench of nerves at the pit of his stomach.

He scolded those foolish feelings. Of course his wife and daughter were safe. They were just waiting for him to return.

The drive was quick and easy and he was back at the palace before he knew it. His feet carried him towards the room he shared with Aelin, a small smile curling on his lips as he thought about having his wife and daughter in his arms once more. He missed the feeling of Aelin curled against him as they slept.

“Aelin?” he called, pushing into their room and nudging the door shut behind him. “I’m home.”

He was greeted by nothing but silence. No sound of running water in the bathroom to suggest a shower, so soft snores or shifting sheets meaning a nap. He strode into the bedroom, finding that the bed was already neatly made, not a thread out of place.

He dropped his bags by the dresser, noting that Aelin’s phone had been left there, face up. He picked it up, seeing that she still had the notification of a missed call from him and a few miscellaneous emails that hadn’t been checked.

“Aelin?” he said again, moving towards the nursery. He had gotten used to the sight of Aelin sitting in the rocking chair with Eliora, either when the babe was hungry or she just wanted to hold her daughter. Rowan had countless pictures on his phone of the two of them in that position. The sunlight streamed from the window and hit them just right in the mornings, making them look like a painting.

But the nursery was empty and the window was shut.

Those nerves reared their ugly heads once more. He had no reason to assume the worst, the palace was one of the safest places in the kingdom.

But… Aelin had once been snatched away from him on palace grounds. During their own wedding.

Rowan shook himself. No. That was the past. This was now.

Since his wife didn’t have her phone, he knew it would be fruitless to try and contact her that way. But, Rowan knew Aelin better than he knew himself.

He began a sweep of the palace, checking out her favorite haunts. The library was a bust, so was the gym. He had checked the kitchens to see if she had swooped in for a snack or something sweet, but she wasn’t there either. Rowan luckily ran into Aedion, asking the prince if he knew where Aelin was. But her cousin hadn’t seen her at all that morning.

With each failed attempt at finding them, Rowan’s fears steadily crept up. It wouldn’t be much longer before they had wrapped themselves around his throat and pulled him deep into their depths.

He took a long breath to center himself before striding out into the gardens. His heart started beating faster, not seeing any sign of her at first. Rowan’s fingers curled into tight fists as he stepped over fresh, green grass. Gods, where were they? If something had happened to them…

But before Rowan’s fears could conquer him, he heard a soft voice on the summer breeze. A familiar voice at that. Relief washed through him, heavenly and soothing, as he followed that melodic sound.

It was Aelin. It didn’t take him long to realize that she was reading one of Eliora’s favorite books to her. It was a silly tale, and it was made even more vivid when Aelin told it. She was an excellent story-teller. They didn’t know how much Eliora really understood, whether she just liked the brightly colored pictures or the faces her mother would make when she told it. Regardless, it always made the little princess smile.

Rowan rounded a hedge, a warmth spreading through his chest at the sight before him.

Aelin had spread out a large quilt under the shade of a willow. Some of Eliora’s toys were scattered about, but currently, the toddler sat in her mother’s lap, wide-eyes glued on the book before her.

Rowan couldn’t help but think Aelin looked stunning today. Her golden hair was left loose, swaying on the breeze, the summer sun bringing a healthy flush to her cheeks. She wore a silky, pale blue wrap-dress, bare feet tucked beneath her as she read. Eliora looked mighty charming too in a bright pink dress with a matching bow.

Rowan strolled towards them, Aelin’s eyes jumping towards him as she noticed his presence. A huge smile broke out on her stunning face.

“You’re home!” she greeted, putting the book she had been reading aloud down. Eliora, no longer entertained by her mother’s storytelling, crawled over the quilt to grab one of her brightly colored toys. “I thought you were going to call me when you landed?”

“I did, Fireheart,” Rowan said. He lowered herself behind Aelin on the blanket, his wife situated between his legs, before wrapping his arms tightly around her and tugging her back into his chest securely. “You left your phone in our room.”

Rowan placed a lingering kiss on Aelin's shoulder, breathing in her scent deeply. She was safe, in his arms, Eliora happy as can be, sticking her toys in her mouth. Everything was fine.

Aelin turned in his arms slightly, brows knitted slightly. Rowan knew she could see right through him.

“What is it, Ro?”

“It’s nothing, love.”

Aelin narrowed her eyes at him, as if to say, Don’t you lie to me, Buzzard.

Rowan heaved a sigh, reaching out and brushing some of Aelin’s silky hair behind her ear. “It’s just… you didn’t answer me when I called, and I couldn’t find you and Eliora when I got back. I just couldn’t help but think…” His hand drifted until it rested on Aelin’s abdomen, right over the scar she bore from fighting her way to freedom. He saw understanding on his wife’s face.

“We’re here, Rowan. We’re safe.” She placed a gentle hand on Rowan’s cheek, bringing his gaze towards her.

“I know,” Rowan whispered, jaw clenched. “But sometimes, I just worry that when I open my eyes, this will all turn out to be a dream. And I’ll lose you all over again.”

Aelin took his hand, giving it a firm squeeze. “This is real, Rowan. We both fought for this life, for each other. And nothing, nothing, is going to take it away. Ever.”

Rowan saw the determination blazing in Aelin’s eyes. She was right, of course. This was their life now, they had built their happiness bit by bit, even when so much seemed to want to go wrong. But Aelin and Eliora… they were everything to him. He didn’t know if he would ever be able to banish his fears entirely, but he would treasure every moment he spent with them.

Rowan leaned in, kissing Aelin softly before murmuring against her lips, “I missed you.”

She smiled, kissing him again. “I missed you too, Ro.”

They indulged in a few more slow, sweet kisses before loud babbling sounded, tiny hands twisting into Rowan’s trouser. He looked down, finding Eliora’s wide eyes looking up at him, flashing a gummy smile.

Aelin laughed. “It looks like someone else missed you, too.”

Rowan grinned, reaching out and picking up his daughter. He held her up high, making her release the sweetest little laughs, little legs kicking in delight. He kissed Eliora all over her little face before tucking her in one arm, throwing the other around Aelin. Immense love and devotion flowed through him, holding his two girls close.

No wonder why he had been so impatient to get home.

[bullshxtvixen]

can u do some oikawa or bokuto getting kinkyyyy in public like in the bleachers or smth 🥴🥴🥴

I’m sorry it took a while to post these, i’ve been setting up a haikyuu discord server so we can all thirst together so i’ve been slacking on requests :( but i really hope you enjoy them! ALSO I DID OIKAWA AND BOKUTO BECAUSE I COULDN’T DECIDE >.<

Public sex Headcanons - Oikawa and Bokuto

Warning: 18+, smut, public sex(duh) and a little bit of degradation.

Oikawa

- He’s had the whole thing planned since you’d agreed to come to the game with him. You’ve usually been pretty open to trying new things with him but he knew that if he’d warned you about his plan you would’ve chickened out.

- So when you’re sat at the back of the bleachers looking down at a particularly boring match and his hand find its way beneath your skirt, you couldn’t help but tense up and look at him with wide eyes.

- “What do you think you’re doing?” You’ll hiss at him but he’s just going to carry on watching the match as if his fingers weren’t caressing your inner thigh and inching dangerously close to your core.

- Fucking tease.

- Your eyes would be darting around checking to see if anyone had noticed what was happening but he’d chosen a secluded spot right at the back so the nearest people were at least 5 rows in front. It’ll click in your mind then that he’d planned this.

- “ Tōru , this isn’t funny, someone coul-“ you won’t get to finish your sentence before two of his slender fingers easily move your panties to the side and slip between your folds, sliding into you with ease.

- “Someone could see, huh?” You wanted to wipe the shit eating grin off his face. “If you were so worried about that then why are you already so fucking wet for me when I’ve barely even touched you? I think you love the risk of being caught, don’t you, you slut?”

- His words would have you shuffling in your seat as his fingers pick up their pace, his thumb now circling your clit, making that familiar ache build in the pit of your stomach.

- Gripping his thigh and digging your nails in won’t dissuade him, he’ll just continue to watch you from the corner of his eye with a smirk. He loves seeing you squirm.

- “T-tooru, I’m g-going to...I’m gonna...cum.” The words were almost incoherent, but he knew what you meant.

- “Ah ah ah, we can’t have that now, can we? You wouldn’t want to do something as dirty as cum all over my fingers in a public place now, would you?” He’ll pull his fingers out like the fucking tease he is, leaving you empty and unsatisfied.

- Annoyed and flustered, you’d get up and go to make your way past your idiot boyfriend but before you could get around him, he’s pulling you down into his lap, one arm firmly around your waist, securing you to him.

- “Don’t make a sound, don’t move unless I tell you to and don’t close your eyes. If you do any of those things I’m going to bend you over that seat in front of us and fuck your sopping little cunt right here for the whole gym to see, do you understand, sweetheart?”

- You wouldn’t even be able to process what was happening before for he growls “Answer me.” as his hand palms your ass. The only thing you could do was nod.

- That’s all he needed. In seconds he’s lifting you up ever so slightly so he can free his cock from the confines of his trousers, before pulling your panties to the side and easing you down onto his throbbing length.

- His cock isn’t the longest but his girth makes up for it, stretching you in the most delicious way possible.

- Your eyes would almost roll into the back of your head at the feel of him filling you but you couldn’t risk them closing, though the thought of him fucking you in front of a large group of people as they watched does spike your arousal.

- Your pussy is going to be clenching around his cock so tightly that he knows it won’t take much for either of you to find your release.

- “God, your cunt feels fucking amazing wrapped around me like that,” he’ll whisper in your ear, “but let’s get those hips of yours moving so I can fill you up with my cum.”

- Then his hands are on your hips, moving you back and forth against his cock as your nails bite into your palms.

- “That’s it, I can feel how close you are. Cum for me, cum all over my cock while we’re surround by all these people, you dirty little slut.”

- Then you’re both coming undone, you almost biting through your bottom lip in an attempt to stay silent while his hands have a death drip on your hips.

- “Fuck, you’re such a good girl. Now let’s get out of here, we wouldn’t want my cum dripping out of you and ruining these seats now, would we?”

- Make no mistake, as soon as you get home he’s going to absolutely destroy you.

----------------------xxxxxx--------------------

Bokuto

- Bokuto has never really thought about fucking you in a public setting before, but seeing you in a skimpy swimsuit for the first time as you slowly test the water of one of the tide pools at the far end of the beach is too much temptation for him to resist. As lust begins to take over, it’s almost like he becomes a completely different person.

- He’ll watch as you lower yourself into the crystal blue water, slowly submerging yourself until your feet hit the rocky bottom. Luckily the water just comes up to your chest so you’re still able to lean your arms on the side of the smooth rock as some of the boys begin a new match on the sand a little further up the beach from you.

- Bokuto’s going to use the fact you’re distracted by the game to silently slip into the far side of the pool before dipping under the water and making his way towards you, fully submerged.

- When he surfaces he’ll put a hand over your mouth and his other around your waist, pulling your body flush against his in a flash.

- As you start to struggle his breath is going to brush against your neck before his familiar chuckle finds your ears.

- “Easy now, little bird, it’s just me.” He’ll say before removing his hand and pressing a kiss to your bare shoulder, causing you to shiver against him.

- ‘Little bird’ is only something he calls you when it comes to sex so you immediately know something’s going on.

- The hand that was covering your mouth will snake down the front of your body, making it’s way between your supple thighs that he loves burying his face between.

- When you tense up he just smirks against your skin, his breath fanning against your neck.

- “What are you playing at, Kou?”

- Another chuckle. “Do you have any idea how easy it would be for me to just slip these to the side” his fingers trace the fabric covering your now throbbing cunt, “and take you right here and now, while our friends are just over there?”

- He’ll grind his hardened cock against your ass as he says it, causing you to arch into him, your head falling against his shoulder.

- He’ll use that to his advance and cover your lips with his own.

- And you know he’s going to take that moment of distraction to hook his fingers into the material of your swim suit and tug it to the side so he push the entire length of his cock into you in one quick thrust.

- It’s a good thing his mouth is covering yours because the feel of him stretching your walls is going to have you moaning against his lips.

- “Geez, would you guys get a room, you look like you’re about to fuck!” Someone who sounds suspiciously like Kuroo, calls from the direction of where the teams were playing, but the only thing you could focus on is the slow rock of your boyfriends hips against your backside.

- You should be embarrassed, maybe even ashamed that your boyfriend is about to fuck you while your friends aren’t even 10 meters away from you, but the risk of being caught is only making you that much more turned on.

- “You better say something to him before they come over here and investigate, little bird or they’re going to see what a cock hungry little devil you are.” He’ll whisper in your ear, his cock continuing to throb inside of you.

- From where the boys are positioned it would just look as though Bokuto was innocently cuddling you and being a doting boyfriend, but if they came any closer they’d see that beneath the surface of the water he was buried inside you as his hand made lazy circles around your clit.

- “~ahh, umm-fuck you, rooster boy. You’re just j-jealous because i’d be getting some.” Yeah your voice isn’t going to be stable as you say it but luckily Kuroo doesn’t question it and returns to the game.

- “Mmm, that’s a good little bird.” He’s got your fingers gripping at the rocks in front of you as your orgasm starts to build faster, his hips trapping yours against the hard surface in front of you as he slides his cock into you over and over again.

- “Fuck, Kou. You feel so fucking good, I’m close.” You’d whisper, knowing he’s a sucker when it comes to being praised.

- Even though it’s not the usual crazy sex that you’ve grown accustomed to with Bokuto, the slow build up of your orgasm has you covering your mouth as it finally washes over your body.

- Within seconds you’ll feel him release inside of you as your walls clench around him, filling you with his hot cum and his arms tighten around you.

- “Holy fuck, y/n. That was...so hot. I can’t believe we just did that.” Immediately he’s back to his usual self.

- He’s going to spend the rest of the day walking round with some extra bounce in his step and he’ll probably even blush whenever he looks your way. He really can’t believe he did that.

-------------------x-----------------

Ngl I’m not 100% happy with them but then again I never am 😂 I hope you liked them! If you have a request, feel free to send it in! ^.^

[oldguardhc]

Old Guard hc #10

Ridiculous bets over the years

There’s a running list of works of art that has been inspired by them. Every century, the person who has contributed the most wins. Joe’s drawings do not count, Nicky.

Who can steal the most items from this person’s shopping cart without getting caught. Booker won one time when he took the entire cart without the lady even noticing.

In one night, who can get the most phone numbers. This one caused a huge fight when Joe got over ninety people to sign a petition to save puppies.

Who can stay the longest at a wedding. There’s rules for this one. When asked who they came with, they all have to point to the same person and recite the exact same story on how they met. They have to dance with at least two different people and they need to make a speech.

This one is between Nicky and Andy. They got into a fight about the proper way to prepare Ceviche. Nicky left the fish to marinate for 3 hours. 2 hours and 45 minutes too long, raged Andy. The fish was dry and flaky, completely ruined! So they got a food truck, set up shop in downtown and competed who can make the most money in a month. The only reason Nicky won is because they were in a city full of uncultured swine.

This is a chaotic bet. They all sit down in a café and order rounds of espresso. The person who taps out last wins. Y’know our boy Nicky always wins. They all watch in horror as Nicky downs his twelfth shot of espresso in the past half-hour, with absolutely no sign of the shakes or the sweats.

Nicky is determined to win the baklava bet so he buys fifty random candles from Yankees Candles. He lights every single one of them in the living room and it smells awful after an hour. It’s perfect. That was the first and last time Nicky won the bet. It was also the first time they experienced a headache as an immortal.

Booker makes them papers with dumb names and they have to pass through TSA without being asked to step aside, sir/ma’am. How Andy got away with Andrea McLovin was still a mystery to this day.

Whoever can get the biggest tour group at the Louvre wins. They go all out. They have free headphones and tiny radios to rope people into their group. English, French, Mandarin, Italian, Arabic, all languages welcome! It’s the best damn tour these people have ever gotten and they tend to repeat this bet after a couple of hard years.

Who can go the longest with just using chopsticks as a utensil. They can use any type, wooden or metal, round, square, flat, narrow at the tip, all were fair game. They just had to use only chopsticks at every meal, no fingers, forks, spoons, knives. Only chopsticks. They all died a little when they had to each bone-in chicken wings.

[quietmyfearswith]

rusting wheels ; clark kent x fem!reader

status — completed oneshot

word count — 1,627 words

summary — in which clark kent has had a rough day.

warnings —swear words, angst?? fluff?? mentions of liquor, mentions feeling worthless and sad.

pairing — clark kent x fem!reader

a/n — not the longest fic i put up but i’ve been going through a writing dry spell 😭 i’d appreciate some feedback and asks/messages are open! if you follow me, please state your age/age range in your bio. i will block you if you follow me and don’t have your age/age range in your bio!!!

tagging —​@la-cey @melancholyy-hill @pedropcl @beck07990 @doozywoozy

masterlist | series masterlist | join my taglist (please follow the rules)

When he returned from the dead, Clark did not expect to feel this meaningless. He died to protect others from the danger that Doomsday brought upon the citizens of Metropolis and the reason he was brought back was to prevent a catastrophic event from occuring to the entire world. It put a pressure on him just as much as it drilled the idea that that was all he was good for — putting out fires that were forced upon his shoulders and deemed his responsibility.

After preventing a bank robbery that would have escalated to a hostage situation due to the presence of civilians who were unfortunately present during the whole incident, he decided to take a stroll first before heading back to his flat. Having changed from his superhero attire to casual clothes, he aimlessly roamed around Metropolis to calm himself as there were still faint remnants of adrenaline rushing through his veins.

Entering the dimly lit establishment, he appreciated the fact that it wasn’t crowded. A shy dozen — and that’s including the staff that were working there —  were present and allowed him to not wallow in his usual spot by the booth and instead take up a spot by the bartender, thus allowing him to be served faster.

“Rum please,” He smiled at the bearded bartender who nodded and prompted to prepare it; once the crystal glass slid over to him, he downed it all in one go. “One more,” He demanded and the bartender had to take a double look — there was a high percentage of liquor in the rum he gave him and it was a surprise to him since it physically looked like he wasn’t fazed by it.

“Yikes man, seems like you needed that one badly,” That comment came from his right and surprised him, as he looked over he noticed a woman who was smirking at him as she drank a little bit of her drink, “You alright over there?”

Taken by surprise with how genuine her concern sounded despite the words she chose to suggest otherwise, “Honestly? No, I’m not,” He downs only half of the liquor before completely turning to face her, “I’m sorry I might be raining on your parade.”

She shook her head and waved at him, “I wouldn’t have asked you if I wasn’t interested hm?” Clark flashed her his pearly whites as he smiled as he replied, “Well how about we talked about something else?” He nodded and was about to speak when she quickly cut him off by saying, “Let’s start with your name then; unless you want me to call you mine?”

There was a blush creeping on his cheeks but he tried to ignore it as he held out his right hand and introduced himself, “Name’s Clark, Clark Kent,” She said her name as she shook his hand while adding, “Who knows? Maybe you might be moaning that out loud later on.” Liking his response to her own pick up comment, she nodded as she moved to close the distance between them and sit on the bar stool directly beside him.

“So Mr. Kent, I don’t think you’re a frequent patron of this bar huh?” Nodding as he gulped down his third drink, “Never been to this bar before — let alone this neighbourhood.” She nodded as he observed his tense figure; so she decided to lighten up the mood by jokingly implying, “Aren’t you glad you’re having your first time with me?”

Giggles erupted out of him when he understood the slightly dirty implication of her choice of words, “It depends,” He shrugged before ordering another round of drinks, “You haven’t really shown me anything yet.” It wasn’t just his words that wounded her ego, but also the way he relaxed his back into the chair and looked at her in a nonchalant manner.

“Is that a challenge?” She scoffed as she reached for the pocket of her coat and handed cash to the bartender, “For our drinks,” She told him before hastily wearing her coat, “Come on with me then.”

There was a puzzled look on his face as she was standing on her feet and crossed her arms at him, “Well? Why aren’t you getting up then, Clark?”

“Where are we headed to by the way?” Despite the indications of uncertainty in his tone, he was walking behind her as he too was draping over his thick, brown coat over his muscular frame. A delectable shiver ran down his spine when he felt her hand wrap itself around his wrist as she led them out of the establishment.

“Where’s the fun in telling you where we’re going huh?” She smirked at him and the journalist didn’t find it in himself to prevent himself from chuckling too as he shrugged his shoulders, “I don’t know; who’s to say you won’t take me someplace so you can kill me?”

She stopped walking as she stared at him with an “are you kidding me?” look and scoffed, “I don’t need to see you in action, but your physique is all the proof I need to know that you are someone I do not want to fight against.”

For a second there Clark was anxious that she knew about his superhero persona; but he took a peek in her mind and she was not thinking of such a thing. And as she led him by the hand, she stopped in front of a small wooden dock which was right by a small pond , “You brought me here?”

Sheepishly nodding, she sat down and pat the spot next to her, “Sorry if it wasn’t as big as you hoped,” Feeling him take the spot up she then looked at him with an apologetic glint in her eyes, “This is just the spot I usually go to when I need to calm down and relax.”

Silently, he took in his surroundings — there was not a lot of noise that distracted him from his own thoughts, the serene landscape was highlighted with its local, beautiful trees matched with the flower bushes that were scattered around the small area pleased his blue eyes. A small smile rested on his lips as he gazed at the ducks that were swimming around the pond before looking at her, “How’d you find this place out?”

“Was walking around the city after a bad day,” She sighed out as she recalled how every single aspect possible of her life turned against her, ultimately leaving her in a bitter mood, “And since I didn’t want to sulk around in my apartment, I went for a stroll. Luckily, my feet dragged me here.”

“And you’ve been coming here ever since? To just take a step back and breathe?”

She nodded as she looked at him with wonder, “Exactly like that; are you a mind reader of some sort?” Her elbow playfully poked his stomach and they both laughed at each other's childishness.

“Thank you,” Clark spoke after a few moments of silently staring at the way the stars shone in the sky; puzzled with what he was grateful for she spoke up, “For what?”

“For trusting me enough to show me this special place of yours,” He explained with a serene expression on his face, “I’ve been going through a rough patch myself.” Saying it out loud somehow made the last Kryptonian feel better. Closing his eyes to take a deep breath in, he found himself sharing what he has been bottling up, “Girlfriend broke up with me, work’s a pain in my behind, I’ve been doing a lot of,” He paused for a moment as he tried to think of a word to describe his world-saving activities involving the Justice League, “Some volunteer work and just,” A shaky exhale escaped his lips before he let out the final factor that has been taking a toll on him, “I’ve been feeling useless and worthless.”

Seeing the way how dejected he looked — paired with the way his voice cracked when he mentioned the final sentence — made her heart ache for him as she reached out for his hand, rubbing the back of his palm with her thumb, an effort to rid him of the negative sentiments he had.

“From what I see, you’re trying too hard and too much to be someone people expect you to be,” Her other hand reached up to his face as she wiped away the stray tears that inadvertently escaped his eyes. Her lips stretched out to a small smile, “You’re a kind man and you’re pushing yourself too much. You spend so much time looking after people that you don’t even take time to tend to yourself.”

Hearing someone see his efforts made him feel validated; as he looked at her, Clark felt stronger despite having just been vulnerable and open with her. “Thank you,” He smiled with glossy eyes, “That meant so much to me.”

“Well I’m glad that I somehow got to make you feel better, Clark.”

He chuckled to himself before fully turning to face her, “You know I’m much more fun and lively than I am right now?” Shaking her head she then lightly hit his arm, “Yeah? So far you haven’t really shown me anything yet.” Her smirked

Realizing that she had used his own line against him, he  smirked at her before pressing a gentle kiss on her forehead, “Yeah? How ‘bout you let me take you out for a date then?” Biting the insides of her cheek to prevent the wide grin from erupting free.

“Well Mr. Kent, I look forward to going on a date with you — I bet that you can’t top off this amazing view of the lake though.”