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#it's not going to get posted. but if it were then i would tag it with cannibalism because like..... it's close ENOUGH
astonmartinii · 3 days
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copycat | oscar piastri social media au
pairing: oscar piastri x fem reader
they say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but really it's just annoying
MASTERLIST | TIP JAR
note: sorry to all of the chloes of the world, i just chose a random name!
f1tea
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liked by user1, user2 and 27,305 others
tagged: yourusername, chloereed
f1tea: SHE STRIKES AGAIN! y/n y/ln, oscar piastri's girlfriend, recently changed up her style with some bangs and surprise, surprise chloe reed shared her updated look just days later. then to really pour salt in the wound, reed posted yet again in mclaren merch. will she ever give up?
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user3: BRO YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED AT LEAST A WEEK?
user4: i think all subtlety was lost when she copied a literal TATTOO
user5: the way it's y/n's tattoo dedicated to oscar as well...
user6: at what point do we get a restraining order?
user7: the day that girl ends up in the paddock we should let y/n fight her with no consequences
user8: this has been going on for so long i feel like y/n has a lot to unleash on her
user9: at this point i think all of us y/n fans should be able to get their lick in
user10: i'm new to f1 can someone explain this lore to me? (srs)
user11: y/n and oscar have been together for nearly four years now, they got together when they were like 19. this chloe reed girl went on one date with oscar when they were 17 and now copies everything y/n does to try and get his attention? like down to haircut and tattoos ... it's kinda crazy and y/n has made some references to it but like we're nearing like the third year of this so i think she might snap soon
user12: it's even got to the point where chloe has like started talking with y/n's accent? she has a very obvious accent so like it's INSANE
user13: and to think all of this over a single date SIX YEARS AGO
user14: on a brighter note - y/n was MADE for bangs they look so fucking good
user15: obviously she should stop but if there's anyone you want to look like, it would be y/n
user16: at this point is it even over oscar anymore? or has chloe lost herself to journey to BECOME y/n
user17: the fact that she still camps out under all of oscar's posts and constantly posts in mclaren merch
user18: and don't even get me started with how she's always in the comments of oscar's sisters' comments
user19: someone needs to get nicole to put this girl on blast
user20: remember before elon took away public likes that mark went on a liking spree about chloe being a lil weirdo
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yourusername
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liked by danielricciardo, logansargeant and 1,209,566 others
tagged: oscarpiastri, landonorris & maxfewtrell
yourusername: summer breakin' with my boy (and his boy)
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user24: MAMA THERE'S A BITCH TRYNA BE JUST LIKE YOU 💜
user25: i unfortunately think she's very aware of it
oscarpiastri: i know you love me because you didn't get annoyed about THEM gatecrashing our couples getaway
landonorris: what if we are a couple HUH???
oscarpiastri: max literally has a girlfriend?
landonorris: ur so close-minded osc
yourusername: i love you osc even with these little stray cats you've picked up
landonorris: did we or did we not organise a super romantic dinner for you?
oscarpiastri: i organised a dinner and you two are so fussy that you left to find some chicken nuggets?
landonorris: therefore giving you a romantic evening on the water?
yourusername: you fell in the water trying to get back on board from the tender and i had to jump in and save you after a fish touched your foot and you began to have a panic attack
landonorris: god you do something nice for people and all you get is SHAMED
mclarenf1: you nearly drowned ???
user26: is chloe going to attempt to drown someone so she can claim she also saved an f1 driver
user27: @georgerussell63 alert the GDPA - NO WATER !!!
georgerussell63: understood 🫡
user28: has it not gotten to a crazy point now that we're warning drivers that this crazy girl might DROWN them ???
user29: at what point do we put oscar and y/n is witness protection
user30: the day she manages to get in the paddock me thinks
charles_leclerc: i see our invite got lost in the mail?
yourusername: please refer to whatever the fuck was going above your comment
charles_leclerc: that you're a victim of identity theft?
yourusername: we been known, but BEFORE THAT
charles_leclerc: oh. you should've let lando drown
landonorris: ???
oscarpiastri: i think that might have gotten me fired?
yourusername: no more papaya rules?
chloereed
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liked by user31, user32 and 11,045 others
chloereed: summer breakin'
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user33: oh brother this guy STINKS
user34: i am feeling sufficiently creeped out on the behalf of y/n and oscar
user35: i really don't understand her game here though? does she expect oscar to see this and actually mistake her for y/n and leave y/n for her?
user36: at this point i think she's lost in the sauce
user37: also oscar is hilariously down bad for y/n like he could probably recognise her via vibrational field he would not fall for this cheap imitation
logansargeant: this ain't it btw (it's never been it)
user38: not logan tapping in
logansargeant: who gon check me boo? i ain't got a job
chloereed: i don't know what you're trying to say, but i don't appreciate you spreading misinformation and hate
logansargeant: you have literally copied everything about my best friend down to her sentimental tattoos and you've essentially stalked my other bestfriend for nearly seven years ?
chloereed: it's not stalking if i know i'm what he really wants? she's the imitation of me
logansargeant: you like need help
user39: GO LOGAN
user40: bro has been let of the leash
user41: tbf when you think about it, logan has been friends with oscar for years and by default friends with y/n for just as long so like he's probably seen how this has effected them personally
user42: i don't really see how this is such a big deal, people try and imitate celebs all the time ?
user43: i think it's because she knows at least one of them personally and is very viciously pursuing oscar
user44: also there has to be an aspect we don't know because i don't think logan would be publicly taking her on in the comments if it weren't a lot worse
user45: also ... like it probably feels like shit as a person generally to have everything you do copied and not even get a tiny bit of credit
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f1
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liked by danielricciardo, patooward and 1,784,039 others
tagged: charles_leclerc, maxverstappen1 & oscarpiastri
f1: we're ready for you monza
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user46: OMG IS THAT?
user47: i'm being so for real y/n needs to fight her
user48: OSCAR RUNNNNNNNNN
landonorris: do i need to inform the legal department?
yourusername: you might want to give them some sort of heads up
chloereed: why you afraid i'll steal back my man?
yourusername: no i'm afraid i'll get hit with a manslaughter charge
chloereed: that's a threat - my lawyers will be hearing
yourusername: tell them bitch, oscar would still choose conjugal visits with me over ever being with you
user49: came for the fast cars, staying for whatever this drama is omg
user50: i once went on a reddit deep dive about this drama where they compiled all the evidence and holy moly this confrontation has been a long time coming
user51: the best (or maybe worse) thing abotu all of this is that her claim of being with oscar first and dating him when they were 17 is based on one 'date' where is was just a joint ball between their schools where there was a compulsory dance in which they were partners
maxverstappen1: yo this shit is insane
user52: aren't you meant to be in the car in 20 minutes?
maxverstappen1: drama waits for no one @yourusername i got ur back
charles_leclerc: at this point i will mobilise the tifosi @yourusername
yourusername: i can handle her, i might just need some money to fix my nails
oscarpiastri: please do not fight her, she's not worth it
chloereed: she won't fight for your love but i will
oscarpiastri: can you just fuck off
user53: i fear she's pushed them over the edge now lol
user54: i'm glad they're both letting her have it in the PUBLIC INSTAGRAM COMMENTS <3
f1tea
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liked by user55, user56 and 34,982 others
f1tea: she's finally done it? chloe reed was spotted in the paddock at monza. will we finally see a confrontation between the two girls?
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user55: i FUCKING hope so
user56: if i were y/n you'd have to hold me back i'm being so serious
user57: i'd be in oscar's mclaren so fast and be driving down the pit lane to look for her
user58: i'd already be in an italian prison sorry not sorry
user59: y/n needs to give me lessons on being this graceful
user60: at this point we should just have an undercard for the race that's these girls tussling it out
user61: at this point i think logan, charles and max are ready to jump in
user62: charles and max being in the comments just before FP getting the scoop is so insane i love them
user63: imagine getting these f1 drivers this pressed over an aesthetic
user64: if you think this is just about an aesthetic you're just being dumb on purpose
user65: but like y/n is just a girl with bangs and a basic look, u could say like half of the female population are copying y/n
user66: but like please look at the actual evidence, it's way deeper than bangs babe
user67: also the TATTOO WHY ARE WE NOT TALKING ABOUT THE TATTOO
user68: whatever happens y/n will always be better than me
user69: she needs to bash her publicly if she won't beat her physically lol
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oscarpiastri
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liked by charles_leclerc, yourusername and 3,984,022 others
tagged: yourusername
oscarpiastri: please leave us alone, you'll never be her and i don't want you to be
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user71: STUNT ON THEM QUEEN
user72: a man who vocally defends you >>>
yourusername: love you bby
oscarpiastri: if anyone wants to take me away from you they'll have to defeat me in combat
yourusername: not saying i want that but you would be so sexy in full armour
oscarpiastri: for you... i would wear anything :3
user73: bro said his piece and immediately went back to simping like a pro
user74: if he doesn't offer to wear a suit of armour in the bedroom is he really in love with you?
user75: i guess we're not getting any dad!oscar content any time soon
landonorris: ???
user75: it's a joke about protected sex genius
landonorris: OH
chloereed: that's not what you said then oscar
oscarpiastri: THAT WAS SIX YEARS AGO IN A CONVERSATION I WAS OBLIGATED TO HAVE GET A GRIP WOMAN
oscarpiastri: YOU WILL NEVER FEEL SATISFACTION IN YOUR LIFE IF YOU CONTINUE TO COPY EVERYTHING SHE DOES AND REFUSE TO BE YOUR OWN PERSON
oscarpiastri: so PLEASE FOR YOUR OWN SAKE GET YOUR OWN LIFE AND LEAVE US ALONE
oscarpiastri: oh. i'm blocked
oscarpiastri: slay
user76: so ... oscar... when can we get this level of reading on the radio
yourusername: don't make him do community service :(
user77: but him being sassy is a service to the community
yourusername: you make a good point
yourusername
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liked by maxverstappen1, charles_leclerc and 2,045,677 others
tagged: oscarpiastri
yourusername: you can be a copy cat all you like, but you'll never beat the original
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user78: i am sorry i exist at the same time as you
user79: i know this a whole love post but i have a confession, i am IN LOVE WITH YOU GET RID OF THE AUSSIE
oscarpiastri: 🤨
charles_leclerc: this was a whole saga, i'm happy it's all worked out for you guys but this was hella entertaining - when can we do it again?
yourusername: never again hopefully
charles_leclerc: boring!
yourusername: it literally got to the point that you offered to leave your car keys in a 'special spot'
charles_leclerc: well obviously i don't mean to THAT extent but i just want a bit of drama, let a girl live
user80: shit stirrer charles leclerc i love you
user81: we should've known he was in the trenches with this, the inchident knows no bounds
oscarpiastri: i love you and i'm sorry this happened. but you do slay so i could see why people would want to be you
yourusername: i knew me with bangs would be too powerful 😔
oscarpiastri: you're the most beautiful girl in the world no matter what
yourusername: ugh you have me blushing pretty boy
landonorris: cringe
yourusername: maybe if you copied oscar's flirting techniques you'd actually be wifed
landonorris: i thought we just established that copying is bad
yourusername: trust me, you need the help
user82: i'm glad we've returned to peace with the lando slander
user83: they're power is insane
maxverstappen1: can i say helping you come up with this caption is my community service
yourusername: fuck yes
maxverstappen1: stunting on hoes is very much in the public interest
fin.
note: i'm back in a rhythm !! this is not so subtle so i'll expand here: please please please do not steal my work, idc if you change the driver, if you're blatantly stealing my ideas and concepts - to the point that people are messaging me to make me aware, please don't! or at least credit me rather than pretending this a completely original thought. mamma mia didn't bother me as much because it's obviously the musical's idea, but omg undercover verstappen? big reputation? and guilty as sin - down to the series name? i haven't made any posts about this but know it's very much bothering me and if i see anymore i may have to put it on blast. thank you all for reading, soz for the rant but this has been going on for months.
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calware · 1 day
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as time goes on my interesting in shipping (for homestuck) (that's really the only fandom i'm in) has just gone down lower and lower because i used to see "shipping" as just "characters who were compatible in some way". for example i would look at karkat and feferi and be like "they didn't interact much but a lot was going on with the two of them in terms of their themes and how those themes intersect. and since romantic relationships are "more complex" or "better" or "more potent" than other relationships the natural progression is to ship them together romantically" but the stuff that would make them potentially interesting as a pairing isn't inherently romantic at all. and i feel like that goes for a lot of if not most of the characters. homestuck to me is way more centered on the idea of friendship (and family sometimes but moreso friendship) than romance and when characters have something important going on between them the interesting part is usually not inherently romantic
even the characters that start dating where their romantic attraction IS very important is based on their initial friendship..!! vrisrezi wouldn't be nearly as meaningful if they weren't friends first, same with dirkjake, etc. arasol is such a popular ship and they only dated once when they were 8 years old…. their relationship from that point on is SO important to who they are but it isn't even inherently romantic after the fact, but people see romance as the "natural progression" from there so clearly they "should" date once they get the chance to do so again. my point is i wish people would pay more attention to some of the non-romantic aspects of relationships in hs because i really think that's what takes center stage within the story most of the time (not ALL of the time of course there are definitely parts where romance is important. but you get what i'm saying)
and then of course to take that a step further and be even more of a hater i'm so tired of people taking stuff and putting it into a romantic context when it's entirely unnecessary…. i made a video with dave and karkat bickering and people tagged it as davekat for no reason. literally that post about dirk and john meeting each other that people kept tagging as dirkjohn for no reason. i'll make posts about the alpha kids being friends and doing stuff together and someone went through my entire blog tagging all of these as "alphacule" for no reason. i'll draw dirk and hal literally just looking at each other and someone will tag it as dirkhal. girl they're just looking at each other. seeing someone liveblog collide and they go "did anyone else think dirk and dave should've kissed >_<??" no i actually don't think they would do that. it's so dark in here
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natailiatulls07 · 17 hours
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New wag in the paddock
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Summary - Being the newest wag in the paddock can be quite daunting but with the right people around you, it's all okay
Warning - None <3
A/n - Slowly easing back into writing?? We'll see lol
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Walking into the paddock with beyond nerve racking, with photographers just inside of the entrance and fans just outside of the entrance - I had no where to hide or breathe.
Luckily walking alongside me with Rebecca Donaldson, Carlos' partner. Because of our partners friendship, we were close friends. She had become someone who'd help me and become like a sister to me in the paddock and even beyond.
This morning particularly she had come over to mine and Landos suite to help me get ready for my first paddock day just after him and Carlos had left. Helping with picking out a gorgeous dress, helping with my makeup and also my hair. Like my own fairy godmother in a way.
'Wow there's a lot of people here...' I whisper in her direction, my eyes took in the busyness of a Sunday morning race day paddock. Next to me, I feel her laugh - She's used to this.
With a soft nod and a slip of an arm round my back, Rebecca is quick to reply. 'Yep it's a race day in Miami, you'll get used to it...' I feel her gently pushing me along, prompiting me not to run back out and go back to the safety of the hotel.
-
It wasn't long before she dropped me off at the McLaren hospitality. Wishing me good luck with a hug and a warm smile before I stand pathically watching her leave me to defend for myself - Almost like a child would whilst being dropped off for their first day of school. In a sense, it was exactly that; I had been dropped off and know expected to make friends until someone I knew would come and safe me.
I breathe in, turn on my heel and walk quietly into the McLaren hospitality. Inside it's modern and high tech, obviously very well thought out. There are multiple seating areas, some small groups accompanying a couple. I can smell fresh coffee as I walk over to a small sofa, sitting there anxiously.
Opening my phone, I can already see multiple notification from various social platforms. I hazard a guess that they are mostly all gossip sites tagging me in their posts.
But one notification stands out to me.
It's on instagram, informing me that I've been added to a groupchat. More specifically a groupchat for the f1 wags. My heart warms at their consideration and kindness, so this is what it feels like to be in a big friendship group of girls.
Soon a few messages start to load into the chat;
lilymhe - Heyyy Y/n! Welcome to the group, this is a safe space for you always xx
francisca.cgomes - Yeah all the girls are in this group so we all gossip, vent and help out in here! Girls support girls obv <3
carmenmmundt - Hi sweetheart!
kellypiquet - Literally if you need anything, send a quick message here and we'll help always x
alexandrasaintmleux - Babes I just saw the photos, you look STUNNING!!! <333
I don't even the big smile that forms on my lips, the feeling of acceptance heavy on my mind. Accidently I don't notice the person in front of me until I hear a soft cough. Looking up I recogise Lando trainer, Jon, stood waiting patiently with a small smile. I gasp at my oblivion. 'Oh my gosh, I'm sorry! You haven't been stood there long, gosh how oblivious can I get?' I nervously ramble.
I've only met him a hand full of times and to keep him waiting felt very rude of me. A soft chuckle escapes his lips as he shakes his head, prompting me to breathe out a sigh of relief.
'No don't worry, I came to get you cause you're boyfriend wants to see you before the race starts...' He explains, watching as I quickly gather my things - I don't want to keep him waiting any longer. 'Hey, no need to rush...' He chuckles, sensing my nerves. It'd be hard not to.
Notable I slow down, no longer rushing to collect myself. I let out a soft sigh, a smile screwing itself onto my lips. And once I have everything, I let Jon lead the way through to Landos garage.
As soon as we walk into the garage, my eyes are immediately drawn to Lando who is stood talking to a few engineers. With his classic smile on his face, something I really do adore is watching as he talks about his job - He really does love it, possible more than me.
I stand there for a few seconds, not wanting to intrude on his conversation. Around me the team work around the garage, clearly buzzing with pre race excitement, nerves and preparation - Something Jon went along with when we arrived.
Then suddenly, I feel eyes on me and I notice Lando walking towards me enthusiastically. As soon as I am in arms reach, I feel his arms slip comfortably around my waist. 'Hi...' I smile, slipping my own arms around his neck. 'How are you doing?'
Lando takes a few seconds, just staring lovingly at me before smirking. 'Good, better now that you're here. How did this morning go? You and Rebecca get here alright?' He questioned, very grateful that I had someone to join this morning.
I nod keenly, moving on to explain about my morning as my hand start to play with some of his mullet. 'Oh I was added to the wag groupchat, they're all really nice people. They said that I can talk to them about anything and ask for advice you know. I've only really met Rebecca so they don't they even know me but they still like accept me, I thought that was the sweet thing ever...' Unintentionally I go onto ramble about the other wags befriending me, only really stopping when I notice his gaze and gentle warm smile. 'Sorry I'm rambling...'
Looking around us, I can see some engineers watching curiously. A mix of his gaze on me, my realization and the engineers watching all make me blush deeply. 'No it's okay...'
His british cuts through my thoughts, reassuring me. 'I'm really happy that you got them beside you, they know what you're going through a lot more than I will ever so that's great!' One of his hands moves up to caress my cheek lovingly.
A comfortable silence falls on us for a few seconds, before I speak up once again. 'So are you ready for the race today? Is the car good?' I ask, despite not really understanding the sport I'm desperate to learn through Lando.
He turns, watching as the engineers do their final preperations and work and nodding confidently. 'Yeah all good! I've got my good luck charm with me and the car is set to do magic today!' Even the way he explains everything, there is a lot of excitement in his voice. I nod, careful to take in all the information he's telling me.
Our conversation continues for a few more minutes before he's notified that he has to make a move to get the car out onto the track. Quick Lando turns back towards me, smiling and pulling me into a tender kiss. 'I love you! Wish me luck!'
I return the same energy and excitement. 'Good luck Lan! You've got this! I love you too!'
-
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waves-against-a-cliff · 20 hours
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After the end - Post-apocalypse Omegaverse AU
Summary - So the hunt begins.
Tags - Omegaverse (duh), alpha/beta/omega dynamics, non traditional dynamics, all of the 141 are alphas, you're an omega. Eventual smut, dub-con, knotting, mating press, polyamory, alphas love alphas. 141 x reader. Omega has a shotgun, I REPEAT, Omega has a shotgun. Mentions of violence.
Prologue Chapter 1
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The others looked at Gaz like he had finally lost his marbles but only Soap was the one to speak up and say, "Ye've gone and lost yer mind."
Gaz shook his head and grabbed Soap's wrist, forcing him to kneel down and smell the old blood. He waited for his reaction and Soap sat back, his cold blue eyes wide.
"A 'mega out here? After all this time..." Soap looked to Price and Ghost who both exchanged looks. Price rolled his shoulders and Ghost seemed to relax just a little.
"Well, if there is one we should go and find them," Price finally said.
"And where would that be?" Soap asked but his eyes had already trailed over to the forest at the edge of the town. Large enough to hide a place for an omega to hide.
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You triple checked the trap you just set, making sure the string was hidden and that it was ready to go off for the poor alpha's that made the mistake of coming onto your land. Your territory had been littered with traps for years though some had gone into disrepair due to your own negligence.
No matter, you thought as you layered more leaves on top to conceal the pit below, you're sure you'll get them with this.
Back when libraries hadn't been mere ruins with musty, rain ruined books you had developed a small fascination with the tactics and traps the Vietnam soldiers had left for the American ones. Nasty, down right awful traps but they drove America out of their country and you were intent to do the same to these alphas.
But even as you thought about the harm you would bring down upon them like a vengeful goddess, your inner omega had started to awaken more. She scratched and whined at the idea of there not only being one but four alphas near by. After years of nothing but your own fingers and the old dildo, your inner omega was desperate for something.
Yet, there was also confliction.
Yes, the deep seeded desire to be bred by four burly alphas was there but also a certain feral aspect bubbled closer to the surface. This is our land, your omega hissed, ours and they've entered it. We smelt them. They haven't left. She pushed you to make more traps, set deadlier ones.
An agreement had been made, or a compromise. Get the alpha's off your land and if one of them survived, keep him. What the next step would be, neither you or your omega had thought about that. Or if all of them survived.
A twig snapped to your left and it yanked you from your thoughts immediately. You hastily covered the trap further before you scrambled up a near by tree and waited. You fought to scratch at the dried mud caked onto your scent glands. It was damn near stifling. Worse then the stuffing in your nose.
You waited, heart pounding in your chest as you kept listening for more signs. Nothing. You let yourself breathe again and slide down from the tree you had perched in. Then you heard them, eight feet tramped down snow and broke twigs under their weight.
They were so loud.
You turned your head just in time to see a hat above a fern and a peak of something black behind it. Your hand found your shotgun with practiced ease and you stepped back and over your trap for more protection. Then they emerged from the bushes.
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May the strongest alpha win
Liked my fic? Buy me a Nutella jar
I do not give any permissions to repost my work, use it in AI, translate my work or any other thing. All rights reserved with me.
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yun-fangz · 1 day
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Yunho twitter links — Dom ver.
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Pairing: Yunho x fem!reader
a/n: ahhhh finally, we've come to the end of this series. 🥹 I would like to say thank you for all your support and love on each of these posts, i'm very happy you enjoyed these just as much i have had making them. as im finishing this up, i will be returning to writing as much as i can, however, i will most likely be making a much shorter pt.2 for this in a couple of months. enjoy ✨
masterlist.
warnings + links under cut! mdni 18+ content below.
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warnings/tags: big dick!yunho, mean yunnie, heavy dom/sub dynamics, size kink, fingering, punishments, cunnilingus, semi-public, perv!yunho, lots of fondling, manhandling, mirror sex, gamer!yunho, being referred to as a "toy", praise, brat taming, slight breeding kink, body worship
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yunho loves to take his time playing with you. he'd massage your tits as he rubs circles into your clit, loving the way you squirm on his hard-on. once he gets impatient, he's pull your panties to the side to work you on his fingers. link.
whenever you act out a little too boldly in public, yunho has no problem pulling you into the nearest private area and bending you over. He'd tower over your form as he fucks you harshly, reminding you who's really in charge. link.
yunho loves teasing you through your panties. this time he has you standing upright as he licks and sucks at your clit through the silky piece of cloth covering it. he'd feel as your knees begin to shake and nearly buckle as he ruins yet another pair of your panties. link.
riding yunho. the way your cunt stretches around and grips his thick girth has yunho going feral. he could feel every pulse and drag of your walls as you work yourself on him. link.
perv!yunho "accidentally" spraying you with water when he really just wanted to see the now transparent fabric cling to your tits. as you're cleaning up, he'd sneak up behind you as he circles his arms around your chest, playing with you through the damp fabric. link.
punishments with yunho. you'd been awfully bratty and cranky all day, replying dryly or just flat out ignoring him. once he returns home, he'd sit down as he silently manhandles you to where he wants before spanking you harshly, ignoring your pleads for mercy just as you ignored him before. link.
yunho tying you up to play with as he pleases. he'd think you look so gorgeous tied up, like a pretty little present wrapped up for him to play with. the way you writhed as he toyed with your cunt made him impossibly harder, loving how small and helpless you were under him. link.
if yunho ever gets too worked up over a game, you're always more than happy to help. crawling under his gaming desk, you position your open mouth over his cock, allowing his hand to guide you down the length of it. link.
if yunho heard you speak badly about yourself, he'd strip and put you in front of a mirror as he trails his hands along your skin. he'd massage his hands along each part of your flesh, going from your tits to your pulsing clit as he reminds you just how beautiful you are to him. link.
monstercock!yunho splitting you open each time he fucks you. he'd coo softly as he pushes himself to the hilt, drinking up each hiccup and cry that leaves your lips. he'd give you time to adjust before rocking himself softly against you, building up the pace little by little until he's pumping himself in and out of you manically. link.
bonus:
the kind of videos yunho would send you to tease and rile you up while he's away. link.
yunho making you squirt all over his sheets. link.
him holding you steady as he pumps his seed into you link.
the perfect stress relief for yunho. link.
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© 2024 Yun-Fangz All Rights Reserved.
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wonustars · 10 hours
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In Front of Me (Teaser)
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⊹ pairing: jeon wonwoo x f.reader ⊹ genre: bestfriend to lovers, angst, smut (18+ mdni) ⊹ wordcount: TBA (this teaser: 679) ⊹ release date: TBA
⊹ summary: jeon wonwoo has spent most of his adolesence and early adult hood unable to understand why he can't seem to stay in a relationship for more than a few months. as his best friend, you allowed him to vent about his worries without judgment. so what if you're in love with him? your friendship with wonwoo meant more to you than having your feelings reciprocated. that is until you hit your breaking point, while wonwoo finally realizes what has been in front of him this whole time. ⊹ tags: non-idol!au, uni!au, bestfriends to lovers (?), unrequted love, emotionaly stunted charcters, wonwoo has a bit of an ego, toxic!wonwoo&reader. (more tags and smut tag added to full fic when posted.) ⊹ note: im really excited to share this with you all. its not by any means done but heres a teaser for now since ive been away for so long ♡ also the teaser is not edited so pls just ignore if theres typos hehe. lov u all pls come into my ask box cuz i refuse to shut up abt this story :p.
⊹ masterlist, taglist, fic playlist.
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Rejection is foreign to Wonwoo.
Most times, it’s him that’s doing the rejecting. He was the one to always initiate the break up, to lose feelings first, every decision was made by him. He has no control over whether you’re going to text him back or not, and to put it simply, he can’t stand that feeling. 
Wonwoo hates not being in control. Whether that be his future, his relationships, and especially his feelings. At least that’s what he forces himself to believe. That it’s not fair of you to ignore him when he’s worried about you, because he’s your best friend. You should answer him when he texts you. When he calls you, and especially when he shows up to your door, seeking your comfort. In his mind, that is what he believes the foundation of your friendship is. To comfort each other, just like it always has been. 
Sure, maybe Wonwoo is entitled, perhaps he’s conceited and selfish, but he doesn’t care. Because in his mind, you’re his bestfriend. There was no way in hell that you were ignoring him. His ego doesn’t even consider it a possibility. You were busy, that’s it. That has to be it. 
{໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -。꒱ྀི১  ‧₊˚ ⋅ ⋆˙}
Less than fourty-eight hours in, Wonwoo couldn’t stop himself from texting you once more. Nimble fingers practically itching to open your contact to update you about the most mundane things. Maybe if he pretended that this moment of silence is perfectly normal, then maybe, you would eventually end up answering him. 
12:36 p.m [wons <3]: class just finished. lunch at our usual place?
Nothing. Not even a thumb’s up reaction. Wonwoo had become antsy, guilt and slight annoyance gnawing at the pit of his stomach. Where the hell are you? What are you doing that’s so important that you couldn’t even open his message let alone read them? 
1:27 p.m.  [wons <3]: this random girl asked for my number after class lol. weird right? i didn’t give it to her though 😁
Cursing at himself, he regrets pressing the send button on that text. Double texting you is already out of the norm for him, but triple texting? He can’t believe how desperate he looks right now. He wishes he could bring himself to unsend it, but he just hopes it’ll be the text that finally gets you to respond. 
2:10 p.m. [wons <3]: saw a bunny running thru the oval today u should’ve seen it! reminded me of u.  [1 photo attachment] 
Absolute radio silence from your end. Wonwoo is starting to think that you had him blocked, but his messages are still delivering. Unsure of what’s worse, you ignoring him or blocking his number, Wonwoo still tries his best to remain calm.
4:00 p.m. [wons <3]: im about to head home soon. r u riding w me today? 
The sight of you getting into Seokmin’s car made Wonwoo scoff. Since when did you start getting rides home from Seokmin? And why was he the one opening the door for you? Buckling your seatbelt instead of his own? Wonwoo is completely dumbfounded at what he had witnessed. 
4:30 p.m.  [wons <3]: saw u get into seokmin’s car, lmk if u need a ride tmrw. 
Seeing you laugh and smile while walking to the student parking lot with Seokmin of all people solidified the fact that you are actively ignoring his texts. And he just can’t stand the thought of it. How dare he be ignored? Especially by his best friend, the one person who had always responded to him, no matter the time or how busy you were, you always texted him back. 
Wonwoo initially thought that even if the world ended, you would be there within arms reach, enough to hold you close, where he can keep you safe. You were predictable in that sense. But if the world decided to burst into flames, or swallow itself whole tomorrow, he’s unsure if you would be there right next to him by the time he woke up.
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⊹ a/n: if u want to be apart of the taglist please fill out the form, comment or send an ask! please note that i'll only add those who have an age indicator somewhere in their blog! thank you ♡
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omgthatdress · 2 days
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special thanks to all my followers who have stuck with me through the "fundraiser asks are bots & scammers" mess. My post did indeed piss quite a few people off but the response has been 90% positive, with a lot of people being relieved of the massive anxiety those asks were causing them (another huge thing that I hate about them is how they feed on people's mental health issues, esp. those with hyperfixations/anxiety on doing good and morality)
For the people who are getting really big mad at me it's like "tell me you got scammed without telling me you got scammed," which is a lot harder for some people to accept than you would think.
Also for those who still insist the asks aren't bots, I made my post with a big opening statement that I readily delete and report any fundraiser ask in my ask box, tagged it "Palestine" and "Palestinian," and the number of asks I got in my box literally quadrupled the next day. They are targeting people who are blogging on the issue because that's what bots do. Classic bot behavior.
If you have fallen for a fundraiser ask bot, don't hate yourself too much. Everyone on Tumblr has fallen for a charity scam at least once, including me. Those things are fucking heart-wrenching and convincing and hard to ignore. The important thing is that once you have the scam explained to you, you accept that you've been scammed and don't double down and insist what's obviously a bot is a real suffering Palestinian without any real proof. That's when you turn into an asshole.
Some people are like "I'd rather give to a thousand scammers than put a Palestinian family at risk!" and...... yeah you realize that's bad, right? The money that could actually be out there saving people's lives is instead going to an unknown criminal of unknown origins. For all we know, these bots could be funding Zionist settlers driving people in the West Bank out of their homes. (I AM NOT claiming this as a fact, merely illustrating that we don't fucking know. pissing on the poor, etc.)
And.... well some people really are a special kind of dumb and when you're really fucking stubborn about how dumb and naive you are I'd say fuck it, you deserve to lose your money, but no. People's lives are actually at stake and that money needs to go to the people who actually depend on it, and that makes me angry.
YES these bots are harmful and YES they need to be removed from Tumblr. Delete and report any that you get.
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Cool for the Summer 4
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No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.
Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon/dubcon, age gap, power dynamics, cheating, and possible untagged elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.
This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.
Summary: After finishing your degree, you return home only to find things aren’t as you left them.
Characters: Bucky Barnes
Note: baby girls, he we go.
As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me.
Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!) Please do not just put ‘more’. I will block you.
I love you all immensely. Take care. 💖
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You rinse out the bowl you used for your oatmeal. It’s only as the back door opens that you notice the roar of the mower’s stopped. You put the porcelain in the dishwasher and shut it as you hear footsteps down the hall. It’s almost ten o’clock. 
“Hey, baby girl,” Bucky greets your back as he enters. “I just put fresh water in the hot tub. Might go for a soak myself, try to loosen up these muscles.” 
You face him, “hot tub?” 
“Oh, yeah. Guess that’s new too.” He chuckles. “Another one of my projects.” 
“Right,” you nod. A sudden buzz makes your jump. 
You look around and scurry across the kitchen to grab your phone. It’s a message from your mom. But why would she text you? Can’t she just come downstairs? 
‘Is Bucky still there?’  
You stare at the message and frown. Huh? 
“Everything okay, doll?” Bucky asks. Your eyes flick up. 
“Um, yeah, erm, it’s my mom...” you shake your head. 
“Right, how’s work going for her?” He plants a hand on the counter and leans. 
“Work? It’s her day off,” you blink. 
“Ah, yeah, she said she didn’t want to wake you up when she left. She got called in. Emergency.” He explains. 
You clutch the phone as you stare at him dumbly. Why didn’t he mention that earlier? Well, it’s not on him, you could have checked. But if she’s gone, why is he still here? 
“Don’t spoil the surprise,” he says, “about the lawn.” 
“I won’t,” you look down and text her back. 
“So how about it? You up for a soak?” He asks again. 
“Um, I’ll think about it. Just gonna chat with my mom,” you waggle your phone at him and meander to the door. 
‘Great. You two can get to know each other.’  
Her answer is disappointing. You thought she’d be surprised, maybe confused. It’s all perfectly normal to them. You’re still adjusting. If she’d told you before you got there, it wouldn’t feel so strange. 
At the same time, you don’t want to let her down. You can’t just ignore her message. You have to try but you feel like you haven’t even had time to settle in. And he’s not the only thing that’s different. Your room doesn’t even feel like yours. 
You stand at the bottom of the stairs. You key in a final reply. ‘Ok’. That’s it. A tepid agreement. 
“Hey,” Bucky surprises you again. “Invitation stands,” he wipes his forehead, his bicep bulging as he does, the muscles of his chest straining. “I’m just going to get in my trunks.” 
“Uh, I... I’ll think about it,” you make yourself take a step up and climb steadily, refusing to look back. 
You stare at the phone. You don’t want to be rude. You’re sure there’s a reasonable explanation for why your mother didn’t mention him. You might do the same in her shoes. After so long being single, she was probably just letting it pan out. 
Still, she could have said something when you were on the train. 
Whatever. It’s not your place to complain. You’re still living under her roof, rent-free, after years of tuition on her dime and a lifetime of dependency. You can pretend like this is all okay. 
You go into your room and shut the door behind you. You wouldn’t have a swim suit in the dresser, you didn’t bother to pack it for college. Wherever your other clothes are, it should be there. You just don’t know where that is. 
A tank top and shorts should do the trick. You prefer that to an actual swimsuit. It won’t feel so revealing.  
You take out a hot pink spaghetti strap shirt and a pair of black shorts. You switch out your clothes, catching your foot in the shorts and tripping slightly. You stand up, shirtless, leaning on the vanity as you get your balance.  
You glimpse your reflection and shy away. You tie the string of the shorts and reach for the tank top. You pull it over your head and check yourself in the mirror. It will do. You hope. 
As you come out of the room, another door opens. You peer down the hall as Bucky emerges from your mother’s room. You gulp and flick your eyes away from him. He wears a pair of light blue shorts, so short you might mistake them for briefs. His thick thighs and torso flex with his movement as he approaches, a towel over his shoulder. 
“You changed your mind?” He asks as he comes closer. 
“Erm, well, I... I’ll give it a try. I’ve never really been in a hot tub, so...” You poke your fingertips together nervously. You don’t want to tell him your mother told you to be social. 
“Great, kinda feel like a loser sitting in there by myself. It’s really too bad your mom had to go in.” He sighs. 
Yeah, it is. You wonder why he didn’t mention it sooner. Or why he’s hanging around. You guess you don’t really know how things work around here anymore. 
“Don’t forget a towel,” he winks as he pats the one on his shoulder. “I’ll go get the cover off and you can come hop on in.” 
He brushes by you, his knuckle glancing off you as he does. You shuffle down to the linen closet and take out a towel. You don’t follow him right away. 
Your stomach is a flurry of nerves. It’s just the oatmeal. It always sits like a lump. You didn’t think about that, you were just hungry. 
You go downstairs and drag your feet to the back door. You come out onto the deck and peer around. The tub sits in the deck, installed where the table used to be. It steams as Bucky steps into it. He sighs and groans, muscles clenching up his back and sides. He must work out a lot. 
You look down at yourself. Self-consciousness creeps over you. It’s been a while since you thought so much about it. You tried not to focus much on your body; as long as you liked what you’re wearing, you don’t worry about what’s underneath. You don’t have the most extravagant taste but you have a few cute pieces. 
He lowers himself into the water and lets out another drone. He shifts around to face you but doesn’t seem to notice you as he closes his eyes and leans his head back. He takes a deep breath so his chest puffs out. 
You set your towel next to his on the small table near the edge. You near and stand at the lip of the tub. Can you just sneak away? 
“Hey,” his voice rolls over the bubbling water, “it’s not bad. Come on. It feels great. It’ll loosen you right up.” 
You nod and bite your lip. You get down on your butt before you ease yourself down onto the seat of the tub. The water steams and spits just beneath your shoulders. It is nice though it does raise a thick sheen across your forehead. 
“Mmm, trust me, when you’re mine age, you’ll need one of these,” he smirks. “So,” he stretches his arms around the frame of the tub, “what’s the plan, doll?’ 
“The plan?” You flap your lashes. 
“For the summer? Beach days with the girls? You wanna invite some friends over? You can have the tub to yourself,” he offers. 
“Mm, no, I... I’m looking for work. Uh, probably send out more applications.” You shrug. 
“Looking for a job? Ah, right, no more school, huh? Exciting. You got the whole world in front of you.” 
“Mhm, yeah,” you reach to rub your neck. 
“I’m sure you’ll still have time to hang out with your friends,” he insists. 
“Uh, I don’t... I don’t really have any,” you utter. You look away and stare at the fence. 
“No? Well, all my buddies are too busy for me. I know how you feel.” He says, “you know, we could be friends.” 
“Um, yeah, maybe,” you look at him again as you chew your lip. His eyes snap up from your chest. You look down and try not to show your horror. Your nipples are entirely visible as the pink fabric clings to you. You cross your arms. “You’ll be busy with my mom.” 
“Not all the time,” he says “You know, ever since she got this promotion, she’s been too busy for me.” 
“Ah, erm, I'm sorry.” 
“Why are you sorry?” He asks. 
You shake your head, “I don’t know...” 
“Mm, I know why,” he tilts his head. 
You stare at him in confusion. 
“You know a guy like me shouldn’t be kept waiting around. You’re a sweetheart, aren’t you? You can’t help but feel bad knowing I’m left all on my own. Lonely.” He traces a finger along the edge of the tub as he speaks. 
“I... guess. I don’t... know? I just...” You look away again. You can hardly stand the heat of the water as it boils your blood. 
He snickers and you wince as he shifts around the tub, sliding into the seat next to you. He slips his arm behind you as he does. You shrink down and stare at the deck railing. What is he doing? 
“This is nice, isn’t it? Getting to know each other?” His fingers tickle your shoulder as he crowds you. “You know, seems like we have a lot in common, doesn’t it?” 
“Um, erm,” you squirm in the seat. “I think... maybe... I should...” 
“Relax, it won’t do you any good if you don’t relax,” he girds. “I’m just saying, baby girl, seems like we’re both pretty lonely.” 
He leans back into the hot tub and lets his head fall back. You bend your arm, rubbing your other, and fidget. You want to just go but you’re scared to move. You don’t think you’re really afraid of him, he probably won’t stop you, but you’re just all locked up. 
You sit there, staring through the slats at the green lawn. The water babbles and your ears pulse. He continues to caress your shoulder. 
“Mm, baby girl, come on, just let yourself...” he taps your arm, “lean back, huh?” 
You obey. You lean back into the tub and slide down in the seat, trying to mimic him. Your head hits his arm as you recline. It is nice as the jets shoot up your back. 
“Wait, wait, you gotta get in the right...” he grabs your thigh and drags you towards him. “..place. Make sure you hit all the pressure points.” 
As he moves you, you spasm and cry out in surprise. A jet blows right against your shorts, a stream of water that sends tingles through you. You try to move back but he holds you in place. He squeezes your thigh and kneads. 
“Ah, yeah, baby girl, right there? Doesn’t it feel good?” 
You squeak as the water hits your clit through your thin shorts. You put your hand on his and wiggle. That only makes it more intense. Does he know what’s happening? 
“Please...” you gasp. 
“What did I say? Relax,” he continues to rub his fingertips into your thigh. “You’re all tense, baby girl. Let it go.” 
Your eyes round and you contort, trying to take the pressure off your clit. It doesn’t help. You puff out and grab onto his arm without thinking. He needs to let go. You can feel a throbbing inside of you. It hurts. Please, stop. 
The sensation crests and coils through you. Your muscles clench then release all at once. You squeal in shock and shame as your body twitches. You think you just... orgasmed? 
“Baby girl, what is it?” Bucky leans into you. 
“I...” you heave. “I-- nothing.” 
“Mmm, nothing?” His hand crawls up your leg and over your stomach. He twists and bends his arm, cradling your head and turning you to face him. You shiver as he cups your chest through the wet fabric and runs his thumb over the hard bud beneath. “Cause I think you just came in this nice clean water.” He leans in closer until you feel his breath against your lips, “baby girl, I thought you were going to be good for me?” 
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jetii · 2 days
Note
So excited you are taking requests! I love your work ❤! Could I request a S(ish)FW (language and innuendos ok, basically anything except actual smut) with Prompt #56? I was thing fem Jedi!reader and Crosshair having a snarky/flirting conversation post mission? Maybe leads up to implied sexy times, I'll leave that up to you.
This prompt was so Crosshair lol thank you for requesting it!
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Grateful
Pairing: Crosshair x Jedi!Reader
Words: 3,132
Tags/Warnings: fluff, canon-typical violence, arguing as a form of flirting, a gratuitous amount of swearing, some making out but nothing too crazy
Prompt: 56. “I-I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” / “Surprisingly that is not the first time I’ve heard that.”
500 Follower Celebration Masterlist | Main Masterlist
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“Eyes up, General.” Crosshair's smooth voice sounds in your ear. “You’ve got company.”
You quickly pocket your datapad, taking a look around the forest. You don't see anything, and you look up at the tree where you know Crosshair is perched, the tip of his rifle just barely poking through the leaves. 
"How many?" you ask, keeping your voice low.
"Just one, but it's a big one."
You take another look around the trees. "Where is it? I don't see anything."
"You will."
“That’s not helpful,” you grumble, turning back to your datapad, tapping on the screen to wake it back up. The screen lights up, and you go back to your notes, continuing your read through as you walk through the woods, your eyes flicking up every so often to glance around you.
Nothing.
Your eyes focus back on the datapad. You’re still searching for an elusive herb that is supposedly native to this planet, one which is a rare and valuable medicinal ingredient. It’s not uncommon for Jedi and other medics to search for them, though it was a pain to do so. Making matters more complicated was that this planet was so far removed from the Republic that you were risking getting into trouble just by being here. 
The natives had yet to be contacted by the Republic, so your presence was an unknown to them. You don't even know if they're civilized enough to communicate with you, and if they were, whether or not they'd be hostile to you.
What you do know is that you’d be punished if you were caught on this planet without permission, and the last thing you wanted was to be sent to the AgriCorps. Again.
Crosshair, of course, thinks you're stupid for even thinking about searching for this herb. He had made a point to tell you exactly what he thought as the two of you set off earlier this morning. You’d left Tech and Echo behind to repair the ship’s systems, while the two of you went out to explore, Hunter and Wrecker doing the same in the opposite direction.
Crosshair was less than pleased at the idea, but he'd agreed to go with you anyway, even if his reasoning was more to ensure you wouldn’t get yourself killed.
As much as you hated to admit it, the sniper was probably right. Your chances of actually finding this herb was slim. You'd spent several days searching for it already, and your only reward was sore feet and an empty vial. You didn't even know how the plant was supposed to look, other than the brief description provided to you by a Jedi Master who had been on this planet before and some poor quality photos.
Small, white, fragrant flowers. Leaves long and thin, shaped like a star, growing in groups of five.
You were sure there was plenty of vegetation that matched the description on this planet. Hell, it was a forest, and it seemed like everything was green. The only problem was finding the right one.
You had no idea how long you had until the flower stopped blooming, and the plant lost its medicinal value. If you didn't find it soon, you'd have to leave, and then you'd be forced to return home empty handed, without the rare herb and with no explanation as to why you'd returned without it.
And worse, Crosshair would be proven right.
The thought of that alone was enough to make you want to find the damn thing.
You walk a few steps farther, pausing at a small clearing in the forest. You glance at your datapad again, checking your notes, then scan the ground for any sign of the flower.
"It's not there."
You look up. You don't see Crosshair anywhere.
"Where are you?" you ask.
"Behind you."
You turn and look, and you still can't see him. "Well, if you're going to criticize my choices, the least you could do is get down here and help."
"I am helping. By keeping you alive."
You scowl. "Where the hell are you?"
"You should really watch your language, General."
You roll your eyes. "Come down here and help me," you say.
"Help you with what?"
You jump and turn, letting out a surprised yelp when you see Crosshair standing next to you, the butt of his rifle resting on the ground, one hand resting on it, the other on his hip. His helmet is still on, and you're unable to read his expression. You hadn't heard him approach, and it had startled you, enough so that your hand had gone to the lightsaber at your waist.
"What is wrong with you?" you demand.
He tilts his head. "I didn't realize you were so jumpy.”
"Yeah, well, if you weren't always hiding in trees and making creepy comments, I wouldn't be," you grumble, releasing your hold on your saber one finger at a time.
"If I wasn't always watching your back, you'd be dead," he retorts.
"Yeah, yeah," you mutter. "You're the only reason we're not all dead."
"You're welcome."
You let out a sigh and roll your eyes. You’re sure he’s smirking underneath his helmet, and you're not entirely sure how you feel about it. There's something about him that irritates you, that gets under your skin, but he's also the only one on the squad that seems to pay attention to you. And he does a good job of it, too.
It's strange, really, because he seems to notice things about you that nobody else does. He knows when you're annoyed, or upset, or when you need to eat. He can tell when you're not sleeping well, or when you're tired, or when you're distracted. And when you're focused, like now.
The two of you spend a moment staring at each other, neither of you saying anything. You can practically see the smirk on his face, and you narrow your eyes, not trusting him. He's the most unpredictable member of the squad, and he always seems to catch you off guard. He seems to take great pride in it, too, and you don't appreciate it.
"Whatever," you finally say, turning back to your datapad and looking at it again. The description of the herb and its supposed medicinal value was all well and good, but the picture of the plant was very generic. It looked like pretty much every plant in this damn forest.
"Do you actually have any idea what you're looking for?" he asks, stepping up next to you.
You give him a withering look, and he just stares back at you.
"No," you hiss. He chuckles, a low, warm sound that makes your skin prickle. "You wanna tell me what's so funny?"
"Not really," he says, his helmet turning towards you.
"Asshole," you mutter, turning away from him and scanning the ground. He's still staring at you, and the feeling of his eyes on you makes your skin crawl. "Do you mind?"
"No," he replies, his voice low. His helmet tilts to the side as he watches you, and you can feel your cheeks growing warm. He's close, and it makes you feel uneasy, but you don't back down, and he doesn't move.
“Look, if you don't want to be here, you can leave," you say, turning to him, your voice rising.
He takes a step closer, and you have to fight the urge to back away. You stand your ground, and he leans closer, the black visor of his helmet mere inches from your face.
He scoffs. “And get blamed when you disappear and die on this planet? No thanks."
"You'd love that, wouldn't you?"
He shrugs. "Wouldn't matter to me," he says. "But I like to think of myself as a loyal soldier. Wouldn't leave a comrade behind, no matter how idiotic the mission. Or the person.”
You roll your eyes. He's just trying to piss you off, and he's succeeding.
"You're insufferable," you hiss. "Get lost, and stop following me. That's an order."
He chuckles, the sound sending a shiver down your spine. "Can't," he says. "I'm stuck with you."
"Why?"
He doesn't answer, just shrugs.
"Then just leave," you mutter, turning and walking away. You hear him follow behind, but you don't bother to look. You know he'll keep pace with you.
You walk in silence for a few minutes, before he speaks.
"What exactly are we looking for, anyway?"
"Are you actually going to help, or are you just gonna complain?"
"Complain, probably."
"Then leave."
"Not until you do."
"Ugh," you groan. "Fine. Look for anything with long, thin leaves, and white flowers."
"What does it do?"
"You don't care."
"Probably not, but I'm asking anyway."
"It's for an antidote," you reply. "For a poison. It's very rare, and expensive, and the only way to obtain it is by harvesting the flower. If we can find one with roots in tact, we can bring it back with us and grow our own. But the only place it's grown is here, and the blooming season is only a few days and then it's over."
"Sounds like a lot of trouble," he comments.
"It's worth it," you argue. "This could save thousands of lives."
"So, what do I look for?" he asks. You give him a look, and he shakes his head. "What? You asked for my help. Tell me what to do."
"Fine," you sigh. "The flower is usually found growing at the base of a tree or shrub, and the roots are long and deep, and it has a unique scent."
"Unique how?"
"I don't know, it's like..." You wrinkle your nose, thinking. "Like... honey and mint, I think? It's hard to explain. I don't really smell it myself, but that's what I was told."
Crosshair stares at you for a moment, his hands flexing. He looks like he's contemplating something, but doesn't say anything. Instead, he just turns away, walking into the woods.
"Cross?"
"Keep your eyes open, and don't die," he calls back.
"Where are you going?"
"To find your precious herb," he replies, waving over his shoulder.
You roll your eyes. "Just don't get lost!"
He doesn't answer, disappearing among the trees.
You continue on your way, stopping every so often to check the ground for any sign of the flower, and then move on. The day passes slowly, and you feel yourself getting more and more frustrated. Your frustration only grows when you see the sun starting to set, the sky slowly darkening.
"Fuck," you grumble, turning and heading back in the direction of the ship. Crosshair had left hours ago, and you hadn't seen or heard from him since. You had no idea where he was, or if he was still alive.
"Cross, you there?" you ask, tapping your comm.
Nothing.
"Crosshair, come in."
Still nothing.
You let out a frustrated huff. He was probably fine, but that didn't stop the worry from creeping up inside of you. It wasn't unusual for him to disappear, but you had expected him to stay close to you, especially after insisting that he stick with you.
"Dammit," you growl, turning back around. You're about to call out for him again, when you hear a twig snap behind you. You go still, your hand instinctively going to your lightsaber, and you spin around, igniting it.
You're not prepared for what greets you.
You're met by a massive, six-legged creature, easily three times your size, and twice as wide. It's covered in thick, shaggy fur, its legs ending in sharp talons. It lets out a growl, its teeth bared, saliva dripping from its mouth.
You're frozen in place, your heart pounding. You can't move, your limbs trembling, and you try to think, to find a way out of this, but you can't.
The creature takes a step towards you, its head lowered, and you can feel the air around you shift as it inhales. It's trying to catch your scent.
You grip the hilt of your lightsaber tightly, willing your hands to stop shaking, trying to keep the blade steady. You’ve fought bigger, more dangerous things than this. You can handle it.
You swallow hard, trying to calm your nerves. You can do this. You're a Jedi.
The creature opens its mouth, a low, rumbling growl echoing in the woods. It's almost on top of you now, and you brace yourself, knowing you have to act, or you'll be dead.
You move forward, swinging your lightsaber towards the creature. It reacts immediately, lunging at you.
A loud shot rings through the forest, and the creature stumbles, its head jerking to the side. Another shot, and another, and the creature falls, the life draining from its body.
You stand there for a moment, your lightsaber humming quietly, the smell of the creature's blood filling the air. You can feel your heart beating wildly, and you know you should be relieved, but you're not. You're angry, and terrified.
“What the fuck is wrong with you? You could have gotten yourself killed."
Crosshair is standing next to you, his rifle aimed at the creature, his eyes hidden behind the black visor of his helmet. His hands are steady, his finger resting lightly on the trigger, and you can feel the tension radiating off of him.
Okay, now you're furious.
"What the fuck is wrong with you?!" you demand, glaring at him. "There’s no way the locals didn’t hear that. We're going to be in so much shit."
"That thing was about to kill you, and all you can think about is how much trouble you're going to be in?"
"Yes!"
He lowers his rifle and pulls off his helmet, and you're met with his usual expression of disdain. "You're unbelievable."
"Where the hell were you, anyway?"
"Helping you," he says.
"Bullshit," you hiss. "If you were helping me, we'd have found the damn flower by now."
He holsters his rifle and digs into the pouch on his belt, pulling out a vial and holding it up.
You stare at it for a moment, not believing what you're seeing. It can't be. There's no way.
"Are you kidding me?" you ask, snatching the vial out of his hand and turning it over. Sure enough, inside is a small, white flower, its roots still intact.
"You're welcome."
"This can't be real," you murmur, your eyes widening as you stare at the herb. It's everything you'd hoped for, and more.
"It is," he says.
You turn to him, your mouth hanging open. “I…”
"It's okay," he says, taking the vial back and handing you his helmet. "You can say it."
“I—I don’t know if I want to yell at you or fuck you.” The words are out of your mouth before you can stop them, and you cover your mouth with your free hand, your face burning.
His eyebrows shoot up, and he tilts his head.
“Surprisingly not the first time I’ve heard that," he says, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.
"It just slipped out," you protest. "I didn't--"
"Sure you did," Crosshair cuts in, taking a step towards you. He's close, so close that you can feel the heat of his breath against your skin, and it makes your knees weak. "I've got that effect on people."
"I hate you," you whisper, unable to look away from him.
"No, you don't," he murmurs, leaning in and pressing his lips against yours.
You gasp, but don't pull away, your eyes fluttering closed as his hands rest on your hips, pulling you against him. His lips are soft, his kiss gentle, and you can't help but kiss him back, your arms wrapping around his neck, his helmet dangling from your fingers.
The two of you are pressed together, his warmth surrounding you, and you melt into his embrace. You're not sure how long you stand there, your lips moving against his, your heart pounding in your chest.
You can't seem to think straight, and all you can focus on is him, his touch, his scent, his taste. He takes a step forward, and you gasp as your back hits a tree, his body pinning you there. He takes advantage of the opportunity, his tongue slipping past your lips, exploring your mouth. You moan softly, and he deepens the kiss, his hands gripping your hips tighter.
Your knees are trembling, and you have to wrap your arms around his neck, afraid that you'll fall. He seems to sense this, his hands moving to your waist, pulling you flush against him. His armor is hard, digging into your skin, and you let out a soft whimper, a sound that makes him smirk against your lips.
He breaks the kiss, resting his forehead against yours, his breath hot against your skin. His eyes are dark and hooded, his cheeks flushed, and he's breathing hard. He doesn't speak, just stares at you, his gaze intense.
"Thank you," you finally whisper.
“For the flowers or the kiss?" he asks.
"Both."
He smiles, and it's one of the first genuine smiles you've ever seen from him. He's beautiful, and you can't help but stare at him, his sharp features, his piercing eyes.
"Come on," he says, pulling back and taking your hand. "Let's get back to the ship before the locals figure out we're here. You can show me how grateful you are later."
Your cheeks burn, and you quickly look away, trying to hide the blush that's creeping up your neck. 
"Yeah, yeah," you mutter, rolling your eyes, though you can't help but smile as he takes your hand and tugs you towards the ship. The two of you walk in silence, his fingers laced through yours. He's surprisingly gentle, his touch light, his thumb brushing over your skin.
You're still not entirely sure what to make of him. He's cocky and arrogant, but he's also protective, and attentive. He notices things that others don't, and he does what needs to be done, even when he doesn't want to. And he doesn't let anyone else tell him what to do.
But most of all, he's the one person who's always been there for you. He's the one who's always watched over you, even when you didn't want him to. And even when he's a pain in the ass, you're glad he's there.
You steal a glance at him, and he's looking at you, his expression soft.
"What?" you ask.
"Nothing," he replies, a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth. "Just wondering how grateful you're going to be."
You flush, looking away, and he chuckles, squeezing your hand.
"Shut up," you mutter, trying, and failing, to hold back a smile. You can’t deny you’re looking forward to it.
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mitsua · 2 days
Text
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With an MC who likes to post about their dates with them
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Warnings: none Genre: fluff
Series: OM! SWD? MC'S. . . GN!
Words count: 0.74k
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I don't think he'd really like it at first, since you were all the time asking for a picture, for him to pose or smile, and, well, he doesn't really wish to do that.
However, once Asmodeous showed him all the posts you made on every date-how you wrote so highly and cutely about your spent time with him-it made somethings in his heart and pride go up to the stars.
"I'll smile only if you smile too."
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Maybe sometimes is the one who catches you off guard asking you to take a picture of the most random moment on your date just as a joke.
But oh boy when he scrolls down later on and sees you really posted those embarrassing photos, he's gonna be malfunctioning for a while.
Still, as he reads your thoughts about the date on the picture's caption, his mind will race a thousands miles per hour and kick his feet like a little kid (obviously without anyone seeing him).
"Be grateful I'm not charging ya' for those photos!"
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It started as posting about some streamings you watched, then to both your hands shown holding a video game controls, the final blow was when he woke up to an exaggerated amount of posts he'd been tagged on, new hashtags shipping the both of you and some even promoting their pages to read Leviathan x you content.
He was about to go insane, but as you asked him if he wanted you to delete all those posts, he reconsidered and ponder what was wrong on all that.
"It's fine, yes, it's going to be fine only with you by my side."
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He'd get used to you taking a photo before and after entering a new place with him, sometimes a couple more in there. But never thought nor asked what'd you do with those.
Later on, as he read online about new places to take your date to in Devilgram as it seemed to be the most reliable app to ask to, he came across your page and finally saw all you had to comment of your dates.
"I love reading your narrating, however, would you mind telling me by yourself what you thought about it all?"
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When he discovers your passion of publishing about your dates, you've grown accostumed to even going live on a couple of them. Of course the most part of your dates were private, you spent some time exchanging ideas on how to edit or tag your posts.
The only time you really caught him off guard was the time you posted a photo of him fully suited, when you attended to a fancy dinner of your anniversary together, he didn't notice you taking it! Your caption reading: "Hope you know you look beautiful to me in every way you'd never even got to imagine about <3"
His eyes got glassy as he absorbed your words and went immediately to hug you.
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It's an odd thing to him, but doesn't really comment about it unless he thinks you're spending too much time on your D.D.D. your eyes might burn because of being glued to the screen all time.
One day, after an important fangol match of his, some reporters asked permission to publish the photographs taken on their Devilgram account and tag them on it, to which all of them agreed happily. After returning to the HOL he'd look for their team's post and click on your page by mistake, mersmerized with all the love you put on your almost daily posts about your dates with him.
"Uhm... do you want to take a picture of both of us eating this cupcake?"
He'd still have a weird approach, but trust me, he's trying.
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He's between 'I don't like it' to 'I don't care'. Nevertheless, he would smile in a couple of pictures you want to take throughout your time together. But only when he's looking at you.
He won't bother looking to the camera, he'll only stare at you.
The only photo you have of him smiling to something else that was not you was when he was asleep. Probably dreaming of you too-
Sometimes, when he can't sleep, he might scroll down your Devilgram to remember those cute dates of yours.
"That I have to look to that little thing in your phone while you're taking the photo? Why? I want to look at you."
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All writings' rights reserved © 2024 Mitsua. (Credit to the respective owners of the picture and tagged anime character.) ⌇ my navigation!
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88 notes · View notes
httpscomexe · 2 days
Note
is chapter 4 of runaway will be coming out soon? just genuinely asking, take your time don't feel rushed!!! i absolutely adore your fics 😍😍
Runaway 4
Summary: Xavier takes others over you, leaving you with Logan's worst nightmare. Staying with Wade Wilson.
(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)
Parings: Logan Howlett x Hybrid!Reader
Warnings: Mentions of kidnapping, forced drinking, sexual jokes, fourth wall breaking. (Individual warnings per chapter) This will most likely be a non-con fic.
Word Count: 4155 (Find all chapters here) CH5
P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.
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It becomes sort of a routine with Logan.
Wake up, let him brush your hair, let him choose your clothes, study, eat dinner, let him brush your hair, sleep, and then repeat. Occasionally, he would have days where he was busy, and you knew better than to try finding Wade. Since he’d taken your phone as a punishment, you hadn’t been able to contact anyone else either. But you didn’t think much of it.
And right now, it was morning. The sun was shining through his open curtains, light shining onto your thighs as you sat on the floor, Logan sitting on the bench at the foot of the bed as he brushed through your hair, his fingers occasionally stroking over your ears.
“Okay, what does this word mean?” You held up the book you were reading, and you pointed at a word on the second page.
“Do you know how to say it…?” He asks you, still brushing through your hair, you weren’t sure why he still was, since there weren't any tangles left.
“Sub…Lim…” You try pronouncing the word, stuttering a little. “Inal?”
“Good, now say it all together.” He asks, taking a tie off his wrist to pull your hair up into a ponytail, but he changes his name and continues to brush it.
“Subliminal? What does that mean?”
“Read the sentence, try to figure it out…” He tells you, sectioning your hair now to part it into box braids.
“It says ‘As is typical with this method, no part… particip…ant… participant reported being aware of the sub…liminal faces.’” You struggle a little, and hear him chuckle behind you.
“Good, what do you think it means?”
“Well…” You think about it, trying to remember what Xavier had taught you about root words, and just as you’re about to explain your thought process, there’s a knock at the door, making your ear twitch slightly to the sound. “Ow…” You move your head away, the pointy end of the brush he was using the part of your hair pokes the sensitive skin of your ear.
“Shit… sorry… are you okay?” He quickly gets down to his knees, and his hand fans over your large ear, and there's another knock at the door, the person behind it getting impatient.
“I’m okay Lo, go see who’s at the door.” You gently nudge his hand away, and you watch as he sighs and stands up to open the door, leaving you to gently rub your ear. You weren’t sure why they were so sensitive, but you were sure it was because you weren’t grown in your deer form yet. You’ve only spent a few hours in that form in total in your many years of being alive, so of course, it wasn’t very… developed.
“Jean?” You can’t see too well from your position on the floor, the bed being in your way.
“Hey, I wanted to talk about something, is Bambi here?” You stay quiet.
“No, she’s out with a friend.” He clears his throat, and you understand what to do, you crawl to the other side of the bed so you wouldn’t be visible to Jean.
“Can I come in?” You hear Logan step inside, then lighter footsteps until Jean is sitting on the edge of the bed.
“So Xavier told me…” You hear the bed move a bit more, and assume Logan sat down next to her. “Having her here is too risky.”
“Too… risky?”
“Yes… Considering she’s a hybrid and all.” You hear her sigh. “Obviously, people are searching for those. And if anyone finds out that she’s here… Well… Then we’re compromising the safety of everyone in the mansion.”
“So what? He wants to just throw her out?”
“No, he will provide her with a home and clothes to hide her-”
“It’s not happening.”
“It’s not up to you, Logan.” By this time, your ears were already pinned down to the back of your head, and if you weren’t sitting on your ass, your tail would be between your legs.
“She will die…”
“She’s survived all this time alone already. What difference would there be?”
“Yea she’s survived!” He half shouts and half whispers. “She’s survived because they catch her and hold her like a fucking animal.”
“Logan, why are you whispering? We’re alone.” There’s silence for a few seconds, then a sigh comes from Jean. “Bambi, you can come out.” Your ear perks up slightly, but you don’t move, she wasn’t in control of you.
“Bambi honey, come on out.” You stand to Logan's demand, slowly before crawling onto the bed, sitting near Logan.
“Hey… Sorry.”
“It’s okay.” You tell her, but your ears are still down.
“It’s just… If they find you here, it’s putting everyone else at risk, and Xavier would… Well he’d rather lose 1 hybrid than lose hundreds of mutants.”
“I understand.” You whisper, but your eyes meet Logans.
“When does Xavier want her gone?” Logan's voice comes out gruff.
“As soon as possible. He was hoping this afternoon.”
“And why isn’t he the one telling me this? Why did he send you?” She’s quiet again apart from a sigh. “God he’s a fucking pussy.” His head turns towards you. “There’s a duffle bag in the closet, start throwing our clothes in it Bambi.” He stands up, and Jean stands up with him, a stunned look on her face with wide eyes.
“I’m sorry… Our?” She watches as you disappear into the closet, and her jaw goes slack as Logan follows behind you. “No, no. Logan, you can’t leave.”
“Says who?”
“Says me, Logan. We need you on missions.” She stands at the opening of the closet, and you ignore their conversation, deciding it doesn’t have to do with you.
“You guys will do just fine without me.” He says, reaching over your head to grab a heavy jacket. “Here hun, carry this one. It’s cold outside.”
“Logan-” She grabs his arm, and tries to pull on him. “You can’t-”
“No.” His tone changes completely, from just simple annoyance to straight anger and frustration. He clearly wasn’t happy about Xaviers negligence, and the last thing he needed was the stubborn red head pulling on his arm and telling him he can’t. “I am not leaving her out alone in fucking New York to be kidnapped by another fucking gang.” He pulls his arm away from her and he points in her face. “If you guys need my help so fucking bad, then you better talk to Xavier and figure out a way she can stay here.”
“Logan, there are hundreds of lives on the line, you could at LEAST do the logical thing.”
“The logical thing?” His voice gets louder, and you take a small step away but continue folding clothes and stuffing them into the duffle bag. “I lost my entire fucking family and everyone I knew in my fucking universe, and Bambi is the closest thing I have to family here.”
“The closest thing you have to a family? Logan you fight beside us in missions that could end up with the entire state exploded to dust and what? We’re not your family?”
“No, you’re not. The Jean that was my family is fucking dead, the Xavier that was my family, guess what? He’s fucking dead…” You glance over from the corner of your eye to see Logan take a progressive step towards him with each name. “Ororo, Hank, Scott, everyone that was my fucking family is dead. So excuse me if I don’t want to see a walking fucking corpse every last waking second of my life, and be reminded of my fuck up, everytime I see you motherfuckers…” Jean was now packed into a corner, Logan's face barely inches away from hers, and you can see the way her jaw is clenching. “So don’t you fucking dare tell me what I can, and can not do. I have no connection to you, and will have no fucking problem sending three fucking blades down the centre of your throat.” She doesn’t say anything, only swallowing her spit before her eyes move to yours, still in the closet and frozen in the middle of folding a pair of Logan's jeans before you had become invested in their argument.
You’ve never seen Logan so pissed.
“Fine… Leave.” She looks back up at Logan. “Have the lives of a couple more hundred people in your hands because you left, again.” Shit… You watch as his claws slowly extract from his hands, and you put the jeans down, slowly approaching in case Jean becomes a target.
“You better take that back…” They stare at each other for a long moment. Only the sound of the fan above spinning and the heavy breathing from Logan could be heard through the room.
“Make. Me.” Logan.
“Oh…” He chuckles. Logan…! “Now you’ve done it…” Logan!
“Logan!” Your voice comes out small, and his head twitches a little as he looks over his shoulder. He looks as if he had forgotten you were there. “Can we leave… Please?” You glance down as his claws are hidden back beneath his skin, and it heals over quickly.
“Right…” He growls a little, and backs away from Jean after one last look. “Are you ready then?” He asks, ignoring Jean now as he goes into the closet and lifts the duffle bag, tossing in the last pair of jeans before zipping it up.
“Yes I’m ready…” You stand in the centre of the room awkwardly. “I guess…” You mumble, and Logan sways his hand in front of him, signalling for you to move ahead of him as he grabs his keys, and you’re out of the door quickly, leaving Jean alone in the room, and his arm slides behind your back to walk next to you.
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You were sitting in the passenger seat, watching in the mirror as Logan tossed the bag in the back, slamming the door and making the truck shake a little before getting behind the wheel and starting the engine.
“So where are we going?” He sighs, thinking of an answer to the question with one hand on the wheel as he stares at nothing. Then he reaches into his back pocket, and takes out his phone, handing it to you. “Call Wade.” You take the phone. “Act happy or whatever, and ask if he has space for both you and me…” He growls a little again, looking out his window as you find Wade’s name in his contacts, and you ring it.
“Peanut? And I thought you deleted my number.” The sound of Wade's voice alone was enough to make you smile.
“No, it's me.” You chuckle a little, expecting him to recognise your voice.
“Oh, darling. Bambi, you’re using Logans’ phone. Everything okay?”
“Yes. Everything is fine. But he and I were wondering if you had space for both him and me?”
“They’re kicking him out already?”
“No, they’re kicking me out actually.”
“What? That’s ridiculous. I have the couch, and I have an air mattress that I let Logan sleep on before he left me for one-eye. You guys can obviously stay here.” Logan sighs, but he starts the engine and speaks up.
“Still living under that bridge with Althea?” He asks gruffly.
“Of course, I wouldn't want to leave this humble abode. But peanut?” Logan grunts. “Do you mind picking up dinner? I’ll pay you back. We just need pizza.”
“Sure. What kind?” He turns over his shoulder and begins backing out.
“Hawaiian, no ham. And then just normal cheese.”
“Okay.”
“Thanks pea-” Logan reaches over and hangs up before putting the truck back in forward and he drives out of the parking lot, leaving the mansion behind.
“Can we also get some brownies?” You ask, putting the phone on the centre console.
“Of course, Bambi.”
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“Oh, my two most favourite things ever are here!” Wades’ voice is joyful as both you and Logan walk inside of his little home, the smell of sweat and dog smacking you in the face.
“Male strippers and cocaine?” Another voice comes from a different room.
“Bambi and pizza!” He hugs you, and Logan grunts from behind. “Male strippers is my third favourite, silly.” He calls back, letting go of you and taking the pizza boxes from your hand.
“Hey Bam, how about you go shower, the bathrooms back there.” He points to the room where the other voice came from. Just another person comes out, wearing glasses and with a white afro and walking cane in one hand.
“Who the hell gives birth and names their kid ‘bam?’” She says, feeling around a little for the couch and mumbling something along the lines of ‘why does Wade keep moving the fucking couch.’ “That’s a stupid-”
“Her name is actually Bambi.”
“That’s a little better.” Just a few sentences in conversation between Wade and Althea, and you could tell just how close they really were besides their constant bantering. “Wait, her?”
“I know right? Logan managed to pick up a little girl.” Wade says giddily, placing the pizza boxes on the table and opening them all before taking two cheese, a pineapple, and three brownies.
“Oh then it’s not as surprising, I thought she was your girl.”
“Look, Wade and I need to have a talk.” Logan says suddenly, gently grabbing your arm to get you to look at him. “How about you go take that shower, okay?” You nod, and take some clothes from the duffle bag he's set on the floor.
“I promise the bathroom is the cleanest place in this house.” Wade tells you as you walk by, grabbing a brownie as you pass him. 
“Just ignore Wade's toys, he uses them when Vanessa is around.” Vanessa? “Or whenever Gossip Girls is playing… Wish I was deaf.”
You walk into the bathroom, the sound of Logan's voice disappearing as you close the door, and your eyes immediately land on the large dildo sticking to the wall, which you try your hardest to ignore and not laugh at as you turn on the faucet and remove your clothes.
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With the time that you’re in the shower, Logan takes his time explaining to Wade why they need a place to stay for a while, at least until they find another place.
“God they are such pieces of shit. Like I get where they’re coming from with saving hundreds or saving one, but there’s also like either you save one hundred chickens or you save one unicorn. One’s just more important. You don’t find any mammal hybrids anymore.”
“Exactly, but also Jean got pissed off at me because I told her I’m leaving. Apparently I’m so important and they can’t win without me.” He takes a large sip from his beer, an understatement when half the bottle disappears down his throat.
“I mean they’ve survived and fought so long without this world's Logan before…” Wade tells him, snatching another cheese pizza.
“Look, if I ever end up having to leave…” He sighs, regretting his next words. “Just promise to take care of Bambi. Other than you, she’s all I have left.”
“Wow, talking about me like my life doesn’t matter.” He chuckles, shoving the cheesy bread into his mouth, getting the red sauce on his lips.
“Well you can’t die, she can.”
“Now, now. I was joking, Peanut.” Logan grunts at the use of the nickname.
“What’s this girl's real name anyways?” Althea asks, using a nail fail on her nails, not even realising how incredibly crooked they were becoming.
“No idea, I’ve been calling her Bambi cause… Well, she’s a deer hybrid.”
“Ah, ah. She’s a fawn hybrid.”
“Fawn isn’t a fucking species, it’s an age.”
“Yes, but she’s not a deer.”
“Pretty sure she’s full grown.”
“Maybe in her human form. But she hasn’t spent nearly enough time in her deer form to call herself a deer.”
“What are you talking about…?”
“Look at it this way, if she spent the majority of her life in her deer form, then she’d be a full grown deer, and whenever she turned into her human form, she’d be a toddler. Right now, she’s a toddler in her deer form, AKA, a fawn.” He pauses and looks away from Logan, eyes landing on Althea. “Al honey, if you keep doing that to your nails, they’ll be sharp enough to give someone a Prince Albert piercing.” He looks away from Althea and at a wall. “Readers, I don’t suggest looking that up.”
“Who the fuck are you talking to?” Logan growls, and he can hear the sound of the shower being turned off.
“He does that sometimes, you learn to ignore it.”
“Maybe you do, but you’re blind. He literally just stared at the fucking wall and spoke to dust.”
“Like I said, you get used to it.”
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As you get out of the shower and dry yourself, some sort of talk about walls and dust quickly changes into how Wade is a psychopath. Throughout your entire shower, you were thinking about where you’d be sleeping. Of course, knowing Logan, he’d let you choose between either the air mattress or the couch. The problem is, you didn’t know what’s been done on either of them. You knew Wade pretty well, and judging by the dildo still suctioned onto the wall, he didn’t really care who knew about what he did, and he didn’t mind where he did it. So you were sure there would be stains on either one.
“There she is.” Wade automatically silences the conversation as you walk out of the bedroom and back into the living room wearing only your favourite white lace panties and one of Logans’ hoodies, which looked oversized on your smaller body.
“Want the couch or the air mattress Bambi?” There it is. You still had the towel in your hands, and you were drying your hair as you sat next to him on the couch.
“Yea I had a question for you about that.”
“What’s up?”
“Is the couch even…” You look at Wade. “Clean?” You ask it in the nicest way you can, and the sight of Althea suddenly breaking out in laughter seems to stun Wade.
“Careful now, don’t want to have a stroke.”
“Oh fuck you.” She stops laughing and looks in your general direction. “Want my honest input.” You nod, but then remember she’s blind.
“Yes, please.”
“Sleep on the floor.” She tells you, then stands up with her walking cane, and heads towards her room, closing the door behind her.
“Logan, where would you rather sleep?” You expect him not to answer, and to just tell you that where he sleeps is based on your answer.
“I’d prefer the couch, an air mattress is like sleeping on a damn rock.”
“Can I just… Can I just sleep on you?”
“Oh. My. God. You better say yes, she’s offering to sleep with you.” Wade stands up from the couch, stretching in place before heading to Althea's room. They sleep together?
“Wade, we sleep together all the time.” Logan sighs.
“It was supposed to be a sex joke, Sheldon Cooper.”
“Who…?”
“Ignore it…” Logan holds his hand out, preventing you from saying anything else.
“Goodnight, Peanut. Goodnight, Bambi!” He calls from the room before closing the door, and you can hear the sound of him throwing his jeans down on the floor before the bed in the room creaks under his weight.
“So…”
“What do you mean sleep on me?” Logan asks, interrupting you.
“I mean like… You sleep on the couch, and I sleep on your body. Like you’re my bed.” He stares at you for a moment, as if deciphering your request.
“Yea… Yea, we can do that, that’s okay.” He groans as he stands up, tossing his beer bottle in a pile of more bottles, some broken from previous other bottles being tossed on them.
“I’m gonna eat first though, does Wade have anything to drink?” You ask, standing up as well, and skipping a little to his fridge.
“Ugh… I know he has beer.” He tells you, opening another closet and pulling out a few blankets as you open the fridge and search for something other than alcohol. You simply will not touch it.
“Gross… Is the sink water-”
“Don’t even think about drinking the sink water.”
“What does he give her?” You point down at the slobbery looking dog that’s been snoring this entire time, kicking her legs in her sleep.
“Probably his own saliva.” He tells you, and it almost sounded serious as he covers the couch in clean blankets. “Did you bring your hairbrush?” You nod, walking back over to the couch. “The beer?” He quirks his eyebrow, reaching down to find the hairbrush in the duffle bag.
“Beer is gross.”
“Grab me one then.” You turn back around, opening the fridge again to grab a beer for him. “Sit here.” He points to the couch, and you sit exactly where he’s pointing, and he sits behind you on the back of the couch as you’re seated between his legs.
“Thank you baby.” He takes the beer from your hands, and removes the few braids he was able to get in from that morning and afterwards he pops the beer open.
“How does your ear feel?” He asks once they’re all out, gently touching your ear with his fingers and stroking the fur gently, causing you to purr quietly.
“It’s fine, it was just a poke.”
“Good, I didn’t mean to hurt you Bambi…”
“I know, it was my fault. I moved.” He doesn’t say anything back, instead, he grabs the hairbrush and begins to gently brush through your hair, and again, as always, he’s careful to avoid your ears, using his hands to gently pull threads of your hair off the fur.
“Are you sure you don’t want the couch to yourself?”
“Logan, you know I don’t like sleeping alone.”
“I know, Bamb. Just trying to make conversation.” He tells you, and you reach forward, him gently letting go of your hair so he doesn’t pull it as you grab two cheese pizzas, the pineapple box completely empty.
“You have to drink something.” He continues brushing your hair, occasionally taking a sip of his beer as he focuses on brushing.
“I know, but beer is gross… We can always go out and get apple juice in the morning?” You suggest, and he sighs behind you.
“You haven’t drank anything all day.” He tells you, and you look up and over your shoulder at him as he sets the brush aside and puts more of the liquid in his mouth, you watch as his Adam's apple bobs as he swallows.
“I’ll be alright.” You tell him as he stares down at you, and his right hand finds your chin as he lifts your face up slightly. Then he presses a single kiss to the corner of your lips, pulling back for a moment to take another swig of his beer, and his lips find yours fully now. His fingers squeeze your jaw carefully, but enough to force your own lips open, and he spits the alcohol into your mouth, making you involuntarily pull away but he keeps you still, replacing his mouth with his hand and covering your nose as well so you’re forced to drink the foul liquid.
“Now we either do that about five more times, or you drink the rest yourself.” He tells you, holding the half-filled bottle up to your eye level.
“Fine…” You groan, taking the bottle and sipping from it as he watches you.
“Good girl…” Your tail begins to wag on its own again at his praise and he removes his shirt before lying down on the couch with only a lamp on a small table next to the couch to illuminate a small portion of the room.
“Do I have to drink it all?”
“Just half is okay.” He tells you, and you close your nose before downing half of what he’s given you, hacking a little at the taste.
“Done.” You hold out the bottle to him, and he takes it, swallowing the rest before tossing the bottle towards the rest as before.
“Alright, lie down…” He pats his stomach a little, and you quickly crawl on top of him, taking a soft blanket from the side with you.
“So… since we’re living with Wade now…”
“You don’t have to ignore him…” He answers your question before you even finish asking it, and he shuts off the light behind him, casting the room in darkness, barely seconds later you feel his hand on your head as he gently scratches that spot behind your ear, making you purr.
You were relieved you wouldn’t have to ignore Wade, considering you’d be living with them for who knows how long.
“Just don’t ever sleep with him when I’m not here.”
Tags: @shybluebirdninja @atomicheartbroken @hazydespair
74 notes · View notes
alieinthemorning · 1 day
Text
How’s It Hanging, Beautiful? [Ace Trappola]
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Content: Fluff, Established Relationship, Reader-Insert
Pronouns: None
Remaster of: “You’re so beautiful.” | Ace Trappola [400 Follower Event]
Reblogs: Let me know that you enjoy my work and want to see more, so don’t forget to like and reblog (and comment in the tags. I love seeing people’s rambles in the tags)!
This work’s concepts, plot and original characters are my own which means I do not allow any sort of creative theft nor do I allow my work to be entered into any sort of A.I. bots. Thank you for respecting my space and boundaries.
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Ace wouldn’t say that he wasn’t a morning person, but instead a deep sleeper. Usually, it’d take a lot to rouse him from sleep. However, there was one thing that could always get him up, no matter what. 
And that was the smell of Sunday morning breakfast. 
Saliva was pooled in his mouth before he even opened his eyes. He swallowed it as the rest of his body followed the lead of his taste buds. He stretched (carefully, he didn’t want to get a cramp), letting out a satisfying groan. Then he sat up, eyes finally opening to the dimly lit room. 
You were not there beside him or lingering in the room, but that made sense since you had to be the one cooking. What was odd was that Grim was nowhere to be found, but maybe today was his lucky day, and you’d give him some extras (when would he learn that he’d only get anything if he’d actually help). Shaking his head, he grabbed his phone, and headed for the bathroom. 
After fixing his rough bed head and rinsing his mouth out, Ace made his way downstairs to join you and Grim in the kitchen. You must have gotten up earlier than usual today because breakfast was almost done.
“Come on! Lemme just have a little—” Grim’s paw was reaching toward the bowl of strawberries, but you quickly swatted it. 
“Let it alone. Go take your seat.” You didn’t even bat an eye.
Grim huffed, hopped off the stool, and retreating to the dining room. 
Ace didn’t bother with teasing him, and instead honed in on you. 
“Morning.” His arms wrapped around your waist. 
You turned in his arms, “Morning, sleeping beauty.” You pecked the underside of his chin. 
He returned your kiss with one on your forehead. “You coulda woke me up, you know…” 
“Yeah, but I like watching you drool.” 
Ace pulled back, “I do not drool.” 
You simply smiled as you picked up the plate of pancakes. “Time to set the the table.” 
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Sundays were lazy days, most of the time the three of you would just stay huddled up in bed all day after breakfast. Today was no different, except for Grim leaving to follow the sun (he was an expert sunbather, after all).  
Ace was a deep sleeper, but for some reason something pulled him from his sleep. And he was forever thankful for it. 
You were turned toward him (you were facing away from him when you fell asleep, you’re such a wild sleeper), mouth slightly open (no drool, damn it), lashing gently resting against dark circles. His thumb brushed against your lower lid. He should talk to Crowley about lessening your load. 
“How’s it hanging, beautiful?” 
Ace jolted, not expecting you to speak, let alone be awake. 
But then he smiled, “Not much, what’s going on with you, beautiful?”
“Just admiring you.”
“Crazy, me too.” 
You both laughed at yourselves,
and the beauty of your relationship.
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Happy Birthday, Ace!
And now that I've said that, time for a serious end note lol
Sooooooo on the 9/1/24, I had emergency gallbladder surgery! And now I'm having an emergency hysterectomy (Tomorrow lol)! Originally, my appointment was in November, but after another trip to the ER they finally realized that bleeding for 6 months straight actually isn't normal, and something should be done about it!
So, yeah, I'm gonna be out of commission (again)! Which, I've barely been posting anyway, but I've also been in excruciating pain for the past six months, sooo yeah!
I'll see yeah when I see y'all!
Ko-Fi | Masterlist
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54 notes · View notes
eyelessfaces · 2 days
Text
ashes to ashes
firefighter!poe dameron x reader
it's been so long since I first announced this fic, I know. loosely inspired by this post. thank you to @ofstarsandvibranium for allowing me to write something based on the concept <3
summary: crawling as you witnessed the fire claiming half of your apartment, the only thing you could think about was how cinematic the whole scene was; half of your life burning down in the night, the blurry sight of pairs of chunky boots walking around your apartment and through the flames, the painful feeling of emptiness in your lungs as you rolled onto your back and fought to catch your breath.
just as you began to feel yourself go, an arm wrapped behind your head, holding it up gently.
warnings: depiction of a fire, post-trauma, brief mentions of ptsd, mentions of homelessness, questioning your whole goddamn life, angst, reader has hair
tags: f!reader, obvious firefighter au, slowburn... lol... burn. get it? because of the fire. anyways. mutual pining, strangers to friends to lovers, hurt/comfort, fluff, domestic fluff, kissing
word count: 8.3k
moodboard!
heat me up masterlist
masterlist | taglist | ao3
updates blog: @eyelessupdates
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Chicago had the infamous reputation of having harshingly cold winters; that was the promise you had had when you moved there, and as soon as summer faded into fall and instead began to feel like winter, you quickly understood what it was all about, where the myth came from.
And it was okay, in your small apartment at least. 
It was okay whenever the main heating system of the building was working, because it wasn’t always. Surely a small detail your landlord had forgotten to tell you about when you signed the lease. 
Piling up blankets was fine, but that wasn’t the easiest way to stay warm and certainly not your idea of a good winter period.
It was okay again once you made the bright decision of buying a space heater to put in your living room, then it was not okay the night you woke up to the harsh and very distinct smell of smoke because your carpet had caught on fire.
Not exactly the kind of warmth you were expecting.
And it must have been the chemicals, because while down on the floor, crawling as you witnessed the fire claiming half of your apartment, the only thing you could think about was how cinematic the whole scene was; half of your life burning down in the night, the blurry sight of pairs of chunky boots walking around your apartment and through the flames, the painful feeling of emptiness in your lungs as you rolled onto your back and fought to catch your breath.
And just as you began to feel yourself go, an arm wrapped behind your head, holding it up gently.
“Hey, hey. What's your name?” the man shouted loud enough to cover the default slight muffle of his mask and the menacing creaking of flames claiming your space.
You replied in a drowsy, dazed mumble, and it felt like you were on autopilot mode, like your body was acting on his own, your mind not following – you're barely sure of the veracity of what you're saying, and your answer is punctuated by a painful cough.
“Alright, I’m Poe.” he affirmed with a nod before observing and evaluating the behavior of the flames in your apartment. He looked back down at you, his grip on you tightening. “I’m gonna get you out of here okay? Stay with me.” he demanded, cradling the back of your head as you struggled to get air back in your lungs.
You nodded hastily, shutting your eyes tight as he lifted you up, hoping it would make it all better; the reflection of flames in his mask was too painful to see, and you knew seeing all the debris across your apartment would make you faint if you didn’t because of the smoke.
You could only hear the crackling of flames and the distant wail of sirens filling the air as the firefighter stumbled out of there, his grip on you firm yet gentle. You fought to cling to consciousness, trying to focus on the rhythm of his steps as he guided you to safety out of the building.
Your coughs were painful, and the contrast of the fresh cold night air as you got carried outside hit you all at once.
“It's okay, you're out of here, you did amazing” you heard the firefighter say, his voice barely audible to you as you felt yourself go.
The last thing you remember from there is him calling for the medics as a black veil covers your eyes.
It takes no time for you to readjust your position in your hospital bed when one of the firefighters pushes the door to your room open.
“Can I?” he asks with a small smile, to which you approve. “How are you feeling?” the man asks as he steps in, carefully closing the door behind him.
“Could be better” you scoff, a coughing fit quickly interrupting you. You try to take a deep breath once you’re done, as the doctor advised you.
“Are you the one that got me out of my apartment?” you manage to ask quietly once you catch your breath, your voice rough.
“Yes” he declares as he approaches, and you squint and read what's written behind his turnout coat as he pulls a chair to sit beside your bed. “You got lucky the fire started in your living room” he continues as he sits down, his lips curling into a small, empathetic smile. He has a handsome face, you can tell now that you can truly and clearly look at the man that saved you. There’s a faint, small scar over his cheek, probably one he got on the field, you guess. His brown eyes are gentle as he looks at you, his gaze somehow consoling, reassuring in some kind of way.
You have no idea what time it is or how long you’ve been there, but he still has some dirt over his face and his dark curls are unkempt, so you figure it might not be that long after it all happened.
“Thank you, Lieutenant Dameron” you croak out, your voice gravelly from coughing so much, and you weakly smile, reaching for the glass of water at your bedside.
“It’s only my duty” he chuckles, revealing an objectively charming smile as he helps and hands you your glass. “The fire started from an electrical problem in your space heater that caused it to short circuit.”
You take a sip of water, taking the information into account. 
“Guess my idea of staying warm backfired,” you joke, with a demoralized smile.
He leans back in his chair, a weak, compassionate smile over his face. "It happens more often than you'd think. People underestimate the risks sometimes. Good thing you made it out okay."
You nod, putting the glass back where it was. “Yeah… I can’t believe half my place is gone.”
“It's tough, but, you know…” he sighs, running a hand through his tousled hair. “Things can be replaced. Lives can't.” His expression is serious but compassionate, and you appreciate his attempt at reassurance, even though the reality of losing most of your belongings and your place is still slowly, painfully sinking in. The room falls into a momentary deafening silence before he breaks it. “We managed to contain the fire, but your apartment took a hit. You'll get through this eventually, it’ll take some time but it's fixable” he declares in a tone both firm and comforting as he runs a hand over the light stubble on his cheeks.
You pinch your lips, your mouth abnormally dry though you just drank water. You shake your head, the knot tightening in your throat.
“Fuck, I have nowhere to go. I have no family here, I won’t get my apartment back before a while, hell, I don’t even know if I want it back” you sigh, reality suddenly hitting you right in the face. A chill runs down your spine as you say it, as if wording it out loud makes it become true.
The Lieutenant shifts in his chair again to lean closer, his hand coming to rest over your wrist.
“We can help you. I will help you.” he nods, searching your gaze. “You can stay in a hotel room while you get it all figured out,” he suggests, trying to cheer you up a bit, showing you the possibilities. “I know a nice hotel downtown, not too expensive, and I’m childhood friends with the manager’s son so you can say you’re coming from me” he smiles, trying to draw one out from you, though he knows damn well that his charming smile can’t do miracles in this job. “We have rehabilitation programs, people usually make it out okay, I don’t see why you wouldn’t. It takes some time, and you’ve gone through a trauma so it’s not easy at first, but I promise you it gets easier.”
You nod, pinching your lips in a small smile as you feel him slightly tighten his grip over your wrist. 
“It’s gonna be okay. I’ve seen people take this as a sign to begin again, an opportunity to start over” he nods again as you look up at him, his brown eyes glistening with a sense of hope that you want to believe in.
“I’ll probably do that. Thank you” you acquiesce, still not fully convinced, though his kindness and sympathy makes it all seem easier somehow. As you look at him, you can't help but wonder about the man behind the firefighter's gear, who he is beyond the guy that rescued you. He smiles gently, getting up from his seat. “And thank you for… You know, saving my life” you smile gratefully. “Really. I don't know how to repay you,” you say genuinely.
“Sure.” he waves off your gratitude. “No need. Just take care of yourself. And maybe consider a safer way to stay warm next time.” he jokes with a grin, but you know it’s lighthearted.
You manage a weak laugh, appreciating the lightness he brings to the whole situation. The gravity of it all is still there in the room and inside you, but the Lieutenant's presence and empathy makes it a bit more bearable.
“Alright, I better get going. If you ever need anything please don’t hesitate to stop by the fire station.” As he stands to leave, he glances back with a warm smile. “And take some rest. You'll be back on your feet soon.”
You nod, a polite and grateful smile over your face.
“Hey,” you call as he reaches for the door handle. He turns back to you, a wondering expression over his face. “What did you say your name was again, Lieutenant Dameron?” 
He smiles warmly, “Poe.” 
Poe’s eyes look up from the newspaper as his last name is called by one of his colleagues, followed by a quick gasped “someone for you” with a thumb directed towards the apparatus bay before said colleague leaves.
He tosses the newspaper onto the table his feet are propped onto before he gets up and beelines to the area he’s expected at, looking around for whoever is supposedly here for him until his gaze lays on you, a surprised smile growing over his face.
“Hey!” he exclaims, his voice echoing across the wide room. “How are you doing?” he asks as he walks over to you.
“Better than last time you saw me,” you start, smiling. “Still trying to figure everything out, it’s a bit exhausting but it has to be done, so” you shrug.
“Mhm,” he nods. “Well, as I said, if you need anything I’ll be happy to help” he suggests, a bright smile over his handsome face framed by neat, wavy dark curls. Now that his face is clean, you truly realize how pretty he looks, and his closely shaven face makes him look a bit younger, a bit more innocent than he did the last time you saw him.
“Thank you Lieutenant” you smile back.
“Oh– Please, call me Poe” he scoffs, waving you off. “You know that’s my name” he teases.
“Alright, Poe.” you oblige. “So, yeah, actually I came here to thank you again, and I brought this” you declare sheepishly, handing him a box wrapped in gift paper.
“Oh” his expression immediately turns into an apologetic one when he looks at what you have in hands. “That’s very kind of you but I can’t accept it,” he shakes his head with a skeptic smile. “Against policy.”
You sigh. “Yeah, I figured” you scoff, looking back at the box in your hands. “I wanted to try just in case” you shrug, defeated.
“Yeah sorry, legally and ethically we can’t accept those kinds of gifts.” he explains. “Someone once tried to write us a generous check, and as appealing as it seemed, we had to turn it down” he chuckles, hands coming to rest over his hips. 
“Wow.” you laugh. “Some people are really grateful huh?”
“I guess” he smiles. “And he’d still insist after I told him I could get fired for accepting the check.” 
“Fired?” you ask. 
“Yeah, money’s nice but I could get fired if they find out” Poe nods.
“Fired?” you repeat, raising an eyebrow as a treacherous small smile unwillingly grows over your face.
“Yeah– Oh,” he huffs out a small laugh, before he eventually bursts out into chuckles. “Okay, alright, I get it” he nods, a playful, silly smile over his face. “Yeah, fired, unfortunate for a firefighter, right?” he scoffs, the corner of his eyes softly crinkling as he laughs.
“You get it” you laugh, unable to repress it when he wipes a hand over his face. “Sorry, this is lame.” 
“No, no, I actually never heard this one before–” 
The loud alarm sound cuts him off and resonates through the large room, announcing the units needed for an intervention. “Hah, I’m sorry, I gotta go” he says as you witness his squad rushing to the apparatus bay. “I’ll catch you later maybe, alright?”
“Sure, go do your thing” you pinch a smile, and he gives you back a bright one that makes your stomach flutter and a quick wave before jogging to the truck to quickly change into his intervention clothes.
The next time you come back to the station, you make sure it’s with a gift you’re certain he can accept. His face lights up when he sees you coming in, a warm smile plastered over his face.
You see the genuine appreciation in his eyes; even though you had made a good batch, your plate of cookies doesn’t survive for long, Poe’s squad and himself making a feast off of it.
“These are really good.” one of his colleagues babbles, mouth still full of his latest victim. A few poor crumbs are all that’s left off your plate. You smile.
“I’ll take your word for it” you chuckle, reaching to retrieve your empty plate.
“Come on guys, you didn’t even leave her one” Poe reproaches as he watches over you putting back the plastic film to cover the plate.
“You ate most of these Dameron,” another guy of the squad throws accusingly, making the Lieutenant scoff and hold his hands up in surrender. “Okay, alright, sorry” he nods. “They are really good.” he says pointing at you. “Were,” he corrects himself, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. “Sorry”
“That’s alright, those were for you” you immediately retort with a dismissive wave of your hand. Poe shoots you a sweet smile that you mirror before your gaze shifts to the clock on the wall to overlook the heat rising to your cheeks. “Well, you're good company but I gotta go” you announce as you stand from your seat, giving him a small smile.
“Thank you for the cookies” one of the firefighters calls out.
“Yeah. You really didn’t have to, thank you again” Poe nods as he follows you, a hand over your shoulder. You nod, a small, sheepish smile over your face at the physical contact. “Really, they’re the best cookies I’ve ever eaten, that's why I gobbled them like a glutton. Sorry again for not letting you have one. Is that your job? Are you like a pastry chef?” he asks with genuine curiosity, facing you as you both stop in your steps.
“Nah, just a hobby,” you affirm with a shake of your head and a wide smile that you can’t seem to repress. “But I’ll take the compliment. And you know, I had to go and borrow my friends’ kitchen to make those cookies, so it was basically teamwork”
“Well, gotta thank those friends too then” he grins. “No but really, they were so good. I’d pay for that” he admits as he tilts his head towards you, an admirative glint in his eyes. 
“Well good, because I need money to get my shit together” you joke. Poe smiles at your joke though it shifts into a genuine empathetic grin that you find adorable. You glance back at the clock when you start to feel the blush creep up your cheeks. “Yeah, time to make money, I’m gonna be late to work” you sigh softly.
“Good luck”
“I’m not the one with a high risk job” you scoff. 
He grins and leads you back outside. “You know, we sometimes host charity events here. You could bring some cookies, I guarantee you you could raise a hell lot of money from that. Think about it. We’d let you use the oven here” he grins.
You nod, appreciating the idea. Plus, it’s a reason and occasion to see him again. 
“I will.”
Poe leans against the wall of the firehouse front wall, glancing at you until you're out of sight. He sighs softly when he goes back inside and notices your jacket on the chair.
It’s been seven hours; you’re not coming back for it.
His fingers mindlessly run back and forth over the seams of your jacket, his gaze planted towards the pile of paperwork over his desk, waiting to be filled and sent to his superiors.
A couple knocks at his doorframe tear him out of his reverie, eyes darting to Rey standing at the threshold of his office. He greets her with a faint smile as his chair turns to face her, and she frowns as she crosses her arms and leans her side against the doorframe.
“Been watching you, what's wrong?” she asks throwing her chin towards him, and he reacts with a huff from his nose and a shrug. The downside of having a glass windowed office with broken blinds.
“What do you mean what’s wrong” he nonchalantly asks, his voice low, putting your jacket down over his desk.
“You’re leaving this pile of paperwork to rot” she points out, looking at the sheets messily laid out over his desk.
He scoffs, like what she’s saying is complete nonsense. “You know I hate paperwork.”
He does, she knows that, but he hates it so much that he usually does it as soon as he gets it to be over with it, and to avoid procrastinating the daunting task. “I know you do but you usually sit and do it. Here you sat and didn’t do anything” she declares as she watches him slightly turn back and forth in his desk chair. “That’s not like you. You usually can’t stop working one way or another, can’t rest for five minutes.”
“Yeah,” he sighs softly, adjusting his position in his chair.
“This is not me scolding you for taking a breath for once. This is me being worried” she makes clear. Poe doesn’t say anything in return, the blank expression over his face attesting of his lack of concentration. Rey bites down onto her bottom lip, pondering what she could do or say to help her friend out. It’s not like Poe to act so closed off, so quiet, like an empty shell. 
“Is that a new jacket?” she asks, hoping to lift the tension.
“No, not mine” he says as he reaches over to the desk to have the piece of clothing in hands again. “It’s from…” he pauses. “The cookies feast this morning, she left and forgot it”
“Oh”
“I gotta find a way to give it back to her.” he declares mechanically before muttering, “But I don’t know where to find her”
“Well,” Rey lightly clears her throat. “With some luck she will notice soon enough and she’ll come back for it” she shrugs.
“It’s been seven hours”
“People that just lost their place are busy trying to sort things out Poe” she shrugs. “It’s winter and she probably doesn’t have much clothing left. She’ll come back for it”
“It might happen when I’m off shift” Poe mumbles absent-mindedly. 
“So what? Just leave it somewhere everyone can find it, another team will give it to her” Poe closes his eyes and shakes his head, sighing in defeat, and Rey scoffs at the obviousness of it all. Poe is smarter than that, he’s a lieutenant for a reason; something’s not right.
“Oh Poe” Rey scoffs, a scoff of disbelief. She stares at him as he rubs a hand over his eyes, then runs it through his hair. “This is what it's all about isn’t it?” she asks rhetorically, as she already knows it is. “My god… You’re into her” she mutters like she doesn’t believe it.
“Yeah,” he chuckles, admitting it like he’s guilty of something shameful or immoral; but it almost is, in this job. This kind of thing is not supposed to happen, you’re not supposed to fall for a victim. It’s supposed to be a come and go without looking back.
“Look, I’m not opposed to you shooting your shot but–” she halts mid-sentence; she tries to find the right words to say the right thing. “Be careful. You know it’s a touchy subject in our jobs” she pinches her lips in a small, slightly skeptic smile. “Overstepping and everything.” she adds.
“I know” Poe blinks, looking down at your jacket. “I’ll sort this out.”
— 
To be fair, he feels stupid for not thinking about the hotel sooner when he was the one to suggest this place for you to stay at. 
The end of a shift has never felt so long; when he usually finds stuff to do to remain occupied when there’s no intervention, today his mind couldn’t stay off of you. A shift with no major intervention was awfully long already, but it seemed to be so much slower as he looked forward to seeing you.
His knuckles hit the surface of your assigned room in a couple knocks, and your confused expression turns to a bright smile when your door opens to him. His face and ears are slightly flushed from the cold, his dark curls coming out of his beanie, nicely framing his face. “I usually go home and catch up on the sleep I didn't get during my shift but it's cold out there and I figured you wouldn't have brought back a lot of clothes here with you, so I think you'd make good use of this” he smiles, presenting to you your own jacket. 
“Oh” you reply, trying to ignore the way your heart speeds up in your chest, staring at your jacket neatly folded in his hands as he hands it to you. “Thank you,” you sigh, feeling stupid that you managed to forget it at the firehouse.
He smiles. “Of course.” There’s a brief pause as you stand there, and you look back inside your room, at the mess of cardboard boxes filled with the life you’re actively trying to piece back together. You want to tell him to get inside, but you also need to work on that mess of belongings. You hesitate, wondering what to say when he speaks first. “You need help with that?” he asks, nodding towards the room.
“Uh, yeah,” you admit, huffing out a breath you didn't even realize you were holding. “I took your advice and decided to start over by sorting out and giving away or selling stuff I don’t need anymore but there’s a lot. I never realized how much stuff I had in my possession until now” you chuckle. “But I’ll manage. You don’t have to worry. You’ve had a long shift, you should catch up on your sleep” you grin.
He waves a hand dismissively, smirking. “Oh, I’m fine. We take turns sleeping during the shift. You know, as long as you wake up when the alarm goes off…”
The daunting task seems to get so much quicker and easier now that Poe is here to help. Surprisingly enough, it even gets pleasant as you talk and laugh about anything and everything, as he intently listens to you as you reveal stories about the trinkets you discover again. Poe has this natural ability to make you feel like whatever you’re talking about is the most interesting thing in the world.
After a good hour and a half of reorganizing and labeling boxes of what you’re keeping and what you’re getting rid of, you’re finally done and it’s time for him to go. You can’t ignore the slight feeling of disappointment as you watch him put his jacket back on.
“Hey uh,” he trails off, grabbing his beanie resting on the bed. “Technically I’m off work and you’re not a victim anymore so,” he rubs the back of his neck, his dark curls falling slightly into his eyes as he looks at you with a grin. “Would you like to go for a drink or something sometime that week?” Poe intently awaits your response; maybe he’s making a mistake, maybe he’s overstepping. 
You can’t repress the smile that grows over your face, the feeling of delight that fills you at the prospect of seeing him again. “Sure,” you nod. “I’d love to”
Your heart leaps inside your chest as your hands brush when you hand him your phone so he can put his number in, and he feels just the same when he pushes his apartment door to a text from you that reads, 
“thank you for today. I look forward to seeing you again :)”
He can’t help the foolish smile beaming over his face.
There’s not much left of your belongings after you give them out to charity and after hours spent throughout multiple days waiting for strangers to pick up the different things they bought from you. 
Some part of you assumes that giving up on your life in Chicago would be easier, that moving states and going back to your family would be more reasonable, until you get back onto your feet at least. 
But you hate it, hate the thought of giving it all up just because your stupid space heater short circuited. 
And maybe it's also because something is holding you back.
You’re at work when a text appears onto your phone screen, forcing you to drop everything you’re doing when you see it’s from Poe. Your heart races inside your chest when you open the conversation and read the message. “hey! still on board to hang out?”
Your fingers hover over the keyboard, not sure about which way you should say yes. You settle on “absolutely” and press send.
You try to go back to work while you wait for his response, but the task is compromised because even though you have your ringtone on, you can’t help but check your phone every twenty seconds.
Your phone rings again after what feels like an eternity though in reality, it’s only been two minutes.
“great. I was thinking about going to a bar downtown” 
Another message pops up.
“is it okay if I pick you up at the hotel at 7?”
You take a glance at the time displayed on your computer screen and sigh softly before you reply. “I’m doing extra hours so I get out at 7 :( and I need time to get ready and look somewhat presentable“
Poe’s text comes almost instantly. “hey, no pressure. I’m sure you look just fine”
A foolish smile grows onto your face, and you’re glad he’s not here to see it. 
Another message pops onto the screen.
“I can pick you up at 8 or later if you prefer. or I can pick you up straight out of work at 7 if it makes it easier for you”
You sit and think about it for a moment. It would make it easier for you. You could avoid an extra ride to the hotel.
“I think it does”
You text him the address to your workplace, and the next time you use the office bathroom, you take a moment to make sure you look okay.
The bar is dimly lit by fairy lights strewn all across the ceiling and walls. It casts a soft light over Poe’s face that allows you to admire the faint, dark stubble that is back onto his face again, and you can’t help but look at his teeth when he talks to you; you remember the way they look when he laughs, and the thought makes your stomach flutter and makes you feel like a creep at the same time.
“So, extra hours?” he asks, tearing you out of your reverie before he takes a sip of his half full glass of pina colada. You wince softly. 
“I'm quickly starting to run out of money. You know how insurances are” he raises his eyebrows and tilts his head to the side in agreement. “And I mean, I’m trying to save up because I don’t think I want to go back to my apartment” you explain, an uneasy feeling running through you the moment you start to picture your apartment again, the way it was the last time you had seen it. 
“Yeah, it’s understandable. It’s something we often see.” Poe nods.
“Most people prefer moving out instead of trying to rebuild their home. Too much trauma attached to the place” he affirms, pinching his lips in an empathetic smile.
“Yeah,” you trail off, nervously fiddling with your glass. “And I can’t stay in that hotel room forever. Some friends offered me to stay over at theirs so I’m gonna crash wherever I can until I get back on my feet” 
Poe nods, intently watching you as he swallows another sip of his cocktail before speaking. “Well, you can stay at my place too if you need somewhere to go.” he offers in earnest.
You shake your head, a soft chuckle escaping you. “Poe it’s– you don’t have to” 
“No, no, it’s alright” he insists. “Plus, my apartment is empty for twenty four hours when I’m on shift, so you can take advantage of that”
“This is very kind of you but–” you pause, not certain what you want to say. “We met what, three weeks ago, and you’re willing to let me stay at your place?”
He shrugs, an amused smile over his face. “You made me cookies. You’re trustworthy”
You laugh wholeheartedly, and the sight brings a wide smile to his face. 
“Okay, well, thank you” you huff out, and he grins before taking a sip of his drink. “I won’t bother you much, I’m working extra hours anyways.” 
“Oh and also, you’ll have to let me cook for you when you’re there” 
He raises his hands in fake surrender, a content expression over his face. “If you insist”
You’ve established some kind of routine based on a rotation; half a week at someone’s place, the other half at someone else’s. That way, weeks seem to go by quite fast.
Being at work is the only sense of normalcy you can find since those past few months; it’s pretty depressing when you think about it, but it might also be a good thing considering how much time you have to spend at the office doing extra hours just to gather enough money to try find that sense of normalcy back in your life.
You sigh softly as you knock at Poe’s door and set down your suitcase of necessities while you wait for him to answer; you’re endlessly thankful for your friends allowing you to leave your boxes of belongings in their home office instead of having to haul them around or pay for storage. 
“Hey you” Poe greets when he opens the door, a dishcloth in hand as he wipes them clean. You smile at the sight of him wearing an olive green apron, and you walk in when he makes way for you to. You look around the wide place that actually resembles a loft, the place dimly lit and filled with the smell of food cooking, and just that scent is enough for you to be striked with a stomach rumble. 
“Smells good” you affirm, forcing a small smile through your tiredness. “I was the one supposed to cook though, remember?”
“It’s your first time at my place, I have to be a good host” he huffs out, hands placed at his hips. “And I wanted to try this new recipe” he declares, motioning for you to follow him.
You follow his steps, acknowledging the space around you. “Actually it's perfect cause I'm exhausted” you admit in a small sigh.
“Good thing I planned on pampering you tonight then” he grins. 
He was in no way lying about that. 
Poe pulls your chair for you like a gentleman and makes you sit down, absolutely refusing you help him set the table or help him in any other way. 
He finally sits down in front of you after serving your plates and pouring you something to drink, wishing you bon appetit before you both start to eat. 
You listen attentively as he tells you about the interventions of his past few shifts, taking your sweet time to savor his dish from how good it is; you wouldn’t have suspected him to be that good of a cook.
Then suddenly, Poe trails off, his face dropping when he sees you're crying. “Hey,” he calls softly, getting up from his seat to join you. “What’s wrong?” he kneels down in front of you, his gaze raking over your face painted in tears.
“This is simultaneously the best and worst I've felt in months” you chuckle through quiet sobs, nervously fiddling with the hem of your shirt. “And I have no idea what the fuck I’m doing, I have no idea what I should do” you shake your head. Poe watches you intently while you try to avoid looking at him, afraid of what he could think. You’re just the poor girl he saved that lost everything, after all. “Sorry, I don’t know why it’s all coming out now. I’m not even drunk” you apologize, drying your tears with the back of your hand. “And I know some people you rescue have it so much harder than me, but even this, somehow… It feels insurmountable” 
“Hey,” he takes your hand in both of his, stopping you from tearing at the loose seams of your shirt. You feel stupid for breaking down like this in front of him, feel stupid for feeling so lost. “Just because people go through worse doesn’t mean your struggles are not legitimate” he affirms, one of his hands coming to rest over your arm. His other hand soothingly rubs the back of yours, and your tears-filled eyes finally meet his.
“Having to rebuild a life from scratch is a pretty tough thing, but I promise you it eventually gets better” he nods. “And you’re doing great so far. You’re motivated. It's a good thing. There isn't much you can do but wait until it gets better”
His eyes are gentle, his touch soft, and something inside you slowly starts to ease. 
You want to believe it, you want to believe it’s going to get easier, but right now, you can’t seem to see the light at the end of the tunnel.
“I know. But– I’ve been thinking about leaving Chicago.” you admit in a mutter. It hurts to say it, hurts to picture it, but deep down you know it’s probably the solution and the right decision.
“Oh– okay,” he mumbles softly, his voice dropping slightly. You look him in the eyes, before looking down at your lap again, a weak, saddened smile tugging at your lips.
“What you said about starting over… Maybe this is it. Maybe that’s what I need. There’s not much left here for me” you say, swallowing a sob. 
The urge to burst in tears gets violent again, and just like he can sense it, Poe squeezes your hand and gets you onto your feet so you can crash into him and break into sobs while he wraps his arms around you.
— 
You shift in your sleep and your mind screams at you to wake up; something feels off. The bed is too unfamiliar, too big, too comfortable. 
Because you’ve never been there before. 
It somehow simultaneously takes you ages and no time for you to realize you’re in Poe’s bed. 
You sit up, rubbing the sleep off your eyes, pushing the blanket away. You don’t remember coming to bed.
The last thing you remember is talking and watching a few The Office episodes with Poe on his couch, wrapped in one of his blankets. 
You hear the faint clinking of dishes in the kitchen, and you push yourself out of bed to go there. The wide space is filled with the smell of coffee and Poe is standing by the stove, flipping pancakes, dressed in the same clothes as last night, just like you are. He turns when he hears your footsteps, and gives you that easy smile that makes your stomach flutter.
“Morning,” he greets you, his voice warm. “Got your beauty sleep?”
You chuckle, rubbing your face. “Yeah, about that, you didn’t have to leave me your bedroom.”
Poe shrugs, turning to flip another pancake. “C’mon, it’s fine. It was part of my plan already anyway.”
You scoff and join him, leaning against the counter beside him. “I was already on the couch, I bet it would have been easier to leave me here than to drag me to your bed”
“You deserved a better night's sleep after the day you had.” he turns the stove off and looks at you. “I carried you out of a building in fire, remember? This was nothing” he smiles softly, handing you the plate of pancakes. You take it, and he gently rests a hand over your shoulder as he walks past you to pour you both a cup of coffee and hand one to you. "Besides, you’ve been through enough. A comfy bed is the least I can do sweetheart”
You take a sip of your coffee, savoring its warmth, but his words cut deeper than they probably should. There’s something so natural about the way he’s taken you into his space, about the way he looks out for you. 
It’s comforting, and maybe that’s what scares you the most. 
You haven’t brought last night’s conversation up again, and neither has he, but you can feel it there between the two of you. 
The possibility of leaving Chicago feels more real every time you think about it, and yet, being here with Poe makes the idea of leaving seem that much harder.
Poe is seated at his desk, locked in onto a pile of paperwork when a soft knock sounds from the doorframe. 
He glances up and it's Snap leaning casually against the door with a mischievous grin. 
"Your girlfriend’s here," Snap mouths teasingly as he points behind him; Poe rolls his eyes but can't help the small smile that tugs at his lips.
Snap steps aside, making room for you to enter the room. You flash him a quick, grateful smile before he leaves and before you step inside the office. Poe rises from his seat to greet you with a warm hug, one that feels natural after how close you've grown those past few weeks. The installed routine of crashing at his place every other week has deepened your relationship, turning it into something that feels comfortable, familiar.
“How’s your day going?” you ask, leaning against the wall.
“Busy, but nothing I can’t handle,” Poe replies, shrugging with a grin. “How about you? What brings you here? Missed me?” he grins playfully, and it widens when you huff out a laugh.
“I actually came to tell you some good news.” you take a deep breath, a mix of excitement and nervousness coursing through you. “I got an update about my apartment.”
Poe’s eyebrows lift in curiosity as he steps a little closer. “Oh? What’s going on?”
You can’t help but smile. “Since it’s uninhabitable for now, and because I’m not responsible for the fire, I’m getting my deposit back– and insurance is going to cover a pretty decent amount.”
Poe’s face breaks into a wide grin. “See? I told you so!” he says, his voice full of genuine happiness, as his hand rests lightly over your arm, giving it a gentle squeeze. There’s relief in his tone too as things are finally looking up for you.
You pause for a moment  before adding, “So…” you grin, tentatively. “I’ve decided to stay in Chicago.” 
Poe’s eyes light up at the news. “Really?” he asks, his voice a little breathless, as if he can’t believe what he’s hearing.
“Yeah,” you huff out a small laugh, nodding. “Actually, I came here because I was in the neighborhood looking at an apartment. It’s a bit cramped, but it’s all I can afford right now. And, hey, it’s better than nothing.” you shrug. “And… it’s like a seven-minute walk to the firehouse,” you add with a grin.
Poe smirks, “So, you’re gonna bring me cookies every day?”
“Obviously,” you laugh.
“I’m gonna have to exercise at least twice as much because of you.” he grins, placing a quick affectionate kiss on your cheek. Without thinking, you wrap your arms around him, pulling him into a tight hug.
“Thank you, Poe,” you murmur softly, your voice filled with gratitude. “For everything you’ve done for me.”
He hugs you back and holds you tight for a moment longer, the embrace a silent acknowledgment of everything you’ve been through together, how far you've come since you met– this could have happened in a better context but somehow, some part of you is glad it had to be him you stumbled onto.
“You don’t have to thank me,” he says, pulling back just enough to look at you. “You’re strong. You’ve been handling this like a champ.” he nods with a proud smile.
You smile back, still holding onto him. "I couldn't have done it without you."
Poe chuckles softly, brushing a strand of hair behind your ear. His eyes rake over your face, from your eyes down to your mouth before he stops lingering and pulls away. "Come on," he says, stepping back and motioning for you to follow him. "I’m gonna introduce you to everyone."
The sound of chatter and laughter fills the room where the rest of the crew is gathered. Poe introduces you to his colleagues and friends, and as you chat with everyone, you feel a sense of belonging and acceptance like you’ve known them for ages.
The new year passes around and January takes place quicker than you realize; sleeping on your friends couches is starting to take a toll on your back, so you’re barely able to keep a facade and hide your excitement when you finally get the keys to your apartment and when Poe and your friend Jay haul your brand new sofa bed up the narrow stairwell of the building.
“Where is it going?” Jay asks, short of breath after struggling to angle the piece of furniture to fit your doorframe. 
“Right there,” you point, and your other friends quickly push the cardboard boxes aside to make way for Jay and Poe as they transport and set the sofa down.
It’s the first time in months that things feel real, that you feel like you’re moving forward again. The apartment is small – really small – but it's yours and that fact alone is enough to make you feel relieved.
Your cramped space is a mess of half-unpacked boxes, random piles of bubble wrap, and stacks of furniture pieces waiting to be assembled. 
Your friends each have their own tasks, helping in various ways; Olivia starts assembling your coffee table, grumbling under her breath about missing screws, while Poe puts together your dining table with a look of concentration.
You're tucked away in a corner, hunched over a cardboard box labeled kitchen, sorting through utensils and plates. Your friend Sam joins you, taking out mugs and setting them on the counter beside you. She looks over at Poe, who’s working on screwing a table leg into place with the help of Mike, then she leans in a little closer to you, her voice lowering in that teasing way she does when she’s trying to stir something up.
“Your firefighter boyfriend is cute,” she grins. Your grip instinctively tightens on the pile of plates you’re holding, afraid you’re going to drop it at any moment.
“He's not– we're friends” you scoff, trying to play off though you can’t deny your heart rate going up. 
Sam gives you a knowing look, raising her eyebrows dramatically. "Oh, come on. You can’t tell me there isn’t something there. I’ve seen the way you look at each other."
You feel your cheeks heat up instantly, a wave of nervousness rising in your chest even though you can’t really bring yourself to argue. Poe and you– there’s always been something there, you know that, it's painfully obvious. But putting it into words, admitting it out loud? 
"I don’t know," you finally say, your voice quieter now. "I mean, yeah, he’s amazing. I just… it’s complicated. I haven't really had the time to think about it that way” you shrug, taking a glance at him. 
"Look, I’m just saying, if you’re not interested, maybe I’ll ask him out." she shrugs nonchalantly though her grin attests of her playful tone.
"Very funny, Sam."
She chuckles as she pats your arm, obviously enjoying your flustered reaction. "Just think about it. You two have that vibe, you know?” she insists, putting away the cardboard box she’s unloading now that it’s empty. “Whenever you're ready to admit it, just know I'm rooting for you."
You roll your eyes, though the smile on your face betrays you. 
You hadn’t allowed yourself to think too deeply about it– about him. It had been much easier to push that aside and focus on practical things, like getting through each day, finding a place to live, and piecing your life back together.
Your apartment empties after getting filled and reaching a state that starts to make it feel like a home; your friends progressively leave until Jay and Sam are the last to, each giving you a hug at the door and congratulating you on the new place.
"You owe us dinner for all this labor," Sam jokes as she steps out, winking at you as she heads down the stairs. You roll your eyes with a smile, watching her go before closing the door behind them.
A small sigh leaves you when you turn back and look around the place that is significantly quieter now. Poe is still sitting on the floor, carefully tightening one last screw to your dining table to make sure it’s secured. “Okay,” he groans softly as he stands up, wiping his hands over his jeans. “Should be good”
“Thank you” you say softly, standing against the counter.
He gives you a modest shrug as he puts the screwdriver down on the table. “It’s nothing.” he smiles, stepping closer until he’s standing beside you, his shoulder brushing yours. 
You both proudly admire the place you have spent the last few hours furnishing – it’s small, but it’s just enough for you alone there, and at least now you won’t have to rely on a space heater to survive Chicago’s cold.
You feel Poe look at you, truly look at you, feel the warmth of his gaze lingering over you. You feel it so clearly that it makes you blatantly aware of how close you are, how intimate it feels to be here, in your apartment, alone with him.
You glance over at him and he smiles, his expression softening as his hand reaches out, brushing a stray strand of your hair away from your face; the touch is so tender that it sends a shiver through your spine. “I’m glad you decided to stay.” 
His confession makes your heart flutter, and a tired smile tugs at your lips. “I am too.” you admit, fully turning to him. “And thank you again. Not just for this. For everything”
He shrugs, his face twisting in a grimace. “You’d have managed just fine, even without me”
You tilt your head to the side in disagreement. “I would have been roasted chicken without you, if you remember. So thank you. I mean it” 
He breaks into a laugh, rich and warm, shaking his head. His laughter is so contagious you can’t help the wide smile that grows onto your face. “Okay, maybe I saved you once. But, anytime,” he nods, his voice softer now, his thumb brushing softly against your cheek. "You know that, right?" 
You find yourself nodding, scarily aware of how fast your heart is pumping inside your ribcage. You swallow as his gentle eyes rake over your face, your own gaze flickering between his lips and his eyes. 
“I know,” you whisper, your breath cutting short like you’re out of air. Somehow, all nervousness escapes you when his fingers drift to gently grasp your chin, ever so slightly angling it towards him.
He hesitates for a second, like he’s giving you the option to pull away if you wanted to; you don’t, there’s nothing you’ve been wanting more since you met him.
You lean in, meeting him halfway as his lips press softly against yours, tentatively. Your hands instinctively find their way to rest over his chest, and you sigh into the kiss when you feel the fast beating of his heart under your palm, the comforting warmth of him beneath your fingers. 
It’s not rushed or hurried – it’s like this action is a quiet, mutual acknowledgment of everything that has been left unsaid between the both of you for the past few weeks– hell, months.
The drunken smile over his lips as he pulls away has you going for another kiss; he pulls you even closer, his hands finding your hips, gently resting there. 
His forehead rests against yours when your lips grow apart, your arms wrapping around his neck when he nuzzles your cheek. “I should get going,” he whispers reluctantly, his hands still on your hips.
There’s a moment of silence– You swear you could almost hear the snow falling outside. “Really?” you finally ask, your voice teasing.
“Nah” he murmurs, and you both laugh softly as he pulls you closer, his arms fully wrapping around you.
please note that I'm planning on extending this universe just because I love it so much, I love them so much and I had so much fun writing this, so there will be more stuff linked to this one shot and you can request drabbles, headcanons or whatever you'd like about this AU!
people that wanted to be tagged in this (it was so long ago you probably forgot about this, sorry): @steven-grants-world @faretheeoscar @minigirl87 @my-secret-shame-but-fanfiction @spectorslut
@lunar-ghoulie @ineffablewifes @whatthefishh @dameronshandholder @thatwonderouswoman
poe dameron taglist:
@lockleysgrl @alexxavicry @mystinky-butt @anightshift @campingwiththecharmings
@mintgreen24 @spider-starry @jakecockley @cocodiem  @friedwings
@luxisluxurious @stvnnie @dowbastan @il0vebeingdelulu @hammerhead96
@unear7hly @pigeonmama
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ilys00ga · 3 days
Text
𝙔𝙤𝙪'𝙧𝙚 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙞𝙣𝙙, 𝙄'𝙢 𝙞𝙣 𝙩𝙝𝙚 𝙬𝙖𝙩𝙚𝙧
(PROLOGUE) → FIRST CHAPTER
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: ̗̀➛ synopsis: you're in the wind, I'm in the water.. somebody's son, somebody's daughter..
OR: Sirens and humans were made to be at war with one another. To sear their deadly bond, not with love, not with wealth, not with rules and restrictions... but with flowing blood and torn flesh. That's what history says. That's what's bound to be.
: ̗̀➛ pair: yoongi x f reader/oc.
: ̗̀➛ tags: mute human!yoongi, half siren half human!reader, reader is obsessed (almost yandere-ish (we'll see as the story progresses)), forbidden love and relationships, middle ages/old times era theme, supernatural, slow burn, strangers to lovers (?), fluff, angst, bloody or dark themes. more tags could be added eventually.
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: ̗̀➛ note: hi :) finally decided to post this! first off, I know first-person povs are somewhat "controversial" in the fanfic community, BUT please give this one a read, and I hope you will have a fun ride! second, I know this prologue is longer than it should be (?) but I had a certain idea in mind, so, who cares if it was long af, right? enjoy! I hope u like it.
★ MASTERLIST.
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PART ONE:
It was in the middle of a bright, warm spring day that I found the moon reading on a boat.
That day, I took the risk and sneaked Aftreen—my well-trusted and loyal maid—up to my favorite spot.
The first whispers of the fresh air brushed against our skins, and I smiled at the lovely memories it brought along with it.
And oh, how I missed those precious, precious old days.
We hid behind a large, isolated sea stack perched somewhere close to the coast line, but still far enough from the danger that a small distance could bring to the two of us.
“This is as far as we can go. Hurry up, Afreen.” I warned and watched as Afreen was comfortable in climbing the huge rock, eager to get a better view of the island awaiting beyond it.
“Woah, Your highness…” She gasped, a smile stretching her mouth. “Is that it, you highness? your village?”
I hummed in response, my mind elsewhere. She was marveling at the sight of the golden sand and the life of the village sitting at the edge of the island, while my eyes were stuck on the sight of him.
He with his arms crossed to his chest and his eyes fixed on what seemed to be a book he had on his lap, floating on a boat behind the huge rock. His hair dark and grown, its tips brushing against his broad shoulders as it danced with the gentle wind.
Calm, graceful, pale. I blinked. He glowed under the basking sunlight. So lost in his book that he didn't pay attention to anything else around himself—much less being in the presence of a siren princess and her siren maid propped on a huge rock not so far away from where he sat.
I always loved watching the moon, and I always envied the lucky stars to be in the presence of such a creation crowning the night sky. I wasn’t aware that the heavens were kind enough to put one wandering the earth for me to find.
“Afreen, get down.” I ordered, my voice hushed and stern.
Her lower lip jutted out in a slight pout, but she wordlessly obeyed and jumped off of her spot at the top of the stack and into the water daintily.
The dive made an audible splash echo through the air around us. I swiftly hid myself behind the rock right as the human's head jerked up, a soft gasp slipped me unconsciously.
Afreen didn't emerge again. I took the chance to peek over the stack and steal another glimpse of the stranger.
He wasn't reading anymore. He moved to handle the sail of his boat instead. The thought of him leaving spread a sour feeling in my chest.
The siren inside of me growled, urging me to swim to that boat myself, but I fought against it. I knew better than that. I wasn't supposed to be out there in the first place.
Yet, I could feel it. And I couldn't blame her on it. He looked so inviting to her. She was eager to see how his skin would look underwater, if I were to yank and take him deep, deep into the ocean with me. How he would feel against my skin if I were to trace his features with my thumb and caress his hair with my palms. How his face would twist if I were to card my fingers into his dark locks and pull them hard, or if I were to hold on his jaw in a tight grip and watch him writhe before me, searching to reach the surface and breathe some air into his weak, human lungs before his soul is put to rest between my arms. How my piercing fangs would feel if I were to—
I felt a persistent tug at my tail. Then, it was Afreen who popped up from underneath the water beside me.
“Your highness, what's taking you so long?” She asked.
I quickly brushed her curiosity off with a shake of my head, then led her deep into the saltwater again.
Every time I met the other moon after that, I'd talk to her about him. About how he looked more entrancing than any human I have ever laid my eyes on. About how he was more delicate and beautiful than she could ever, ever be.
About how I wish I could see him again, even for one, only and last time..
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PART TWO:
A dark night sky, a tilted crescent and a pitch black ocean. Darkness cradled the four boats as they glided their way across the ocean, but their lanterns guided them towards their destination.
On each boat were three ruthless and tired sailors. Their journey almost reached its end as they approached Dogon Island.
A small boy that looked to be in his twelfth or thirteenth summer accompanied his father—after much begging pouts and determined promises—on this particular one.
While the adults were lounging on their vessels, the kid was leaning over the gunwale, watching his own reflection in the water with an intense gaze. His eyes soon perched up when he noticed a faint ripple in the image. He turned his head to glance at his father, only to find him sipping on rum, completely unaware. He darted his eyes towards the other two sailors still lounging on the other side of the boat, just as unaware as the previous one, then back to his own reflection again.
Some moments passed like that. The waves calm and steady, the wind gentle and crisp. Until all four boats started rocking from side to side in gentle motions. As if the ocean was soothing them onto the unpreventable.
The father put his rum down, a faint smile adorning his face for a brief moment, before it melted into a neutral frown as he stood up tall.
Everyone was up on their feet. Everyone looked around, alert. All except for the kid, who's hands were still holding onto the gunwale before him.
The rocking halted. A pair of hands gripped the wood right in front of the young boy. Then, it was a dark pair of eyes that locked with his youthful ones.
A soft gasp slipped his mouth at the angelic creature that came face to face with him, her wet skin bathed in the lantern lights.
He waited for her to move, like his father had told him she would, but she didn't. She just ogled back at him, her eyes carrying a baggage his young brain was unable to recognize.
More sirens rose and clung around the four boats. Each more breathtaking than the ones before.
Their lips parted as they hummed their songs to the men above the water, beckoning them closer and closer, right into their embraces.
The father held his son's shoulders and led him to the center of the vessel, his eyes not once leaving the siren at their boat. Then, he slowly approached her, bringing one knee down in front of her in complete devotion.
Without hesitation, her arms stretched out to cup the man's face in her hands. Closer and closer, she leaned her upper body forward, their noses almost nuzzled together. A wicked, yet faint smile appeared on her face when she felt the sailor's arms wrapping around her in response, pulling her towards the male.
Her deadly song was cut off with a loud, piercing shriek that erupted from her throat instead. The sailor pushed his dagger deeper and deeper into her writhing back.
Several shrieks and shouts erupted all over the area within an instant. The boats quivered violently. The small boy screamed and stumbled to the bottom of the vessel, trying desperately to hold onto something and not fall right into the freezing, salty water.
Hungry humans stabbed sharp tools into inhuman flesh. Angry sirens fought back in desperation after their feast attempt had come to be a dooming failure. And as history said and told, hundreds and millions of times all across the stars, siren blood had, once again, covered the wood and flowed into the ocean.
Victorious grins split the sailors’ faces as they pulled the small pieces of beeswax out of their ears. The father raised his rum flask in the air, keeping a firm grip on his son's shoulder as he stood next to him, and bellowed to the open ocean: “To the kingdom!”
The other men seared the victory in loud and proud roars, with blood dripping from their lethal knives as they rose them to the air, and lifeless sirens gathered on each of the four boats.
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Ok, but like I feel like I've never dove in how Jason was probably the youngest in the legion. Probably for a very, very long time. And imagine how it felt to watch as kids played in new Rome, and eventually joined you. And you could never join them as they played in new rome. Imagine all of the kids you know are older than you, and you can't make friends. Imagine having to lead quests of people way older than you that resent you for it because of your parentage. Imagine how happy he was when people his age finally started joining, and I wishing he could he them? Imagine basically being raised by a bunch of teenagers, many of whom dislike you? Would love to hear ur thoughts
honestly, i imagine all of the older members of the legion whispering behind Jason's back about how easy he has it in camp jupiter bc of his dad, about how he isnt "qualified" enough to lead missions, and how he has everything "handed" to him. i feel like he had a LOT to prove and only when his missions started getting successful, people actually accept that he is capable, but even then envious members of the cohort would say that he got lucky or only succeeded bc of jupiter's blessings or smth. could you imagine a baby jason going to the older members of the legion for advice and they just coolly shrug him off? i feel like in a realistic standpoint, they arent outright mean to him bc they are terrified of jupiter's anger but they arent friendly either.
They just let him sit in a corner. i feel like at some point, even when people his age start coming in, he still wouldnt feel loved, because they all would think jason is too scary or intimidating and would avoid him out of fear, also bc he doesnt understand their jokes bc he was brought up too serious. so he would be an outcast. he would be an outcast but not necessarily in a bad way, but like "he's too good for us" type of way which actually hurts jason way more. like when he comes in they all would give him a small bow or something and it gets on his NERVES.
overall i feel like there is too much jealousy surrounding him for him to have any comfortable conversation with people, especially because he is their "leader" even if he was a praetor very late, people still subconsciously saw him as one, even the old praetors consulted him before they came to a decision.
i feel like the moment people even remotely saw him as a human with feelings is when he joined the least reputed legion simply to popularize it. i feel like that was HIS moment where ppl were like "yep this guy is actually a living person with empathy!" but it reverted back to ppl seeing him as an unapproachable artifact
which is why im so upset that frank and hazel didnt have a closer relationship with him, i mean we did see jason and frank talking together on the deck of argo 2 after jason transferred his praetorship to frank, probably filling him in his position, but i wish their relationship ascended beyond just a mentor and his apprentice. because that concept with jason's character gets so old. literally everyone saw him as an advisor and leader that they could learn from, but who really saw something beyond that about him? only leo, nico, reyna, piper and percy tbh.
and in the end, reyna had a subtle fallout with him so they didnt talk, piper broke up with him so they were awkward and tense, leo "died" and never saw him again, the last time nico saw jason was probably during the strawberry field scene when nico told him he's staying at camp, and jason got too busy with his temple project to see anyone else. he was working to keep his promise till the very end, just like a true roman. honestly thanks to you i might actually expand on this in a separate post and tag you in it :)
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tinytalkingtina · 2 days
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Born to Run
Part 1 of Running with the Devil, a Steddie role reversal series
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4k words | Rating: E
Tags/CW: Role reversal no upside down AU with some canon divergence, Jock/Track Star!Eddie, Metalhead/drug dealer!Steve, appalachian Eddie, confident bisexual Steve, Eddie has a sexuality crisis but is in denial, Eddie's sleeping mind decides to take matters into its own hands, wet dream (contains spanking and public humiliation), running of both the literal and metaphorical kind, child abuse referenced indirectly (physical beatings that happened in the past)
Read now on Ao3, and be sure to read @little-annie's Part 2 from Steve's POV, "Metal Health will Drive you Mad"
The sex dream within this fic is brought to you by the Week 4 prompt "slap" of the @steddiesmuttyseptember event
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Eddie was always a runner. If you asked Wayne, he apparently skipped straight from crawling to toddling around as fast as his chubby legs could carry him. When he got older, it was a release valve, for everything and anything shitty in his life.
He didn’t have to think about his mom pulling a disappearing act, or his dad getting himself arrested (again). The world would narrow until the only sounds he could hear were the rushing in his ears and the smack of his sneakers on pavement.
Running had brought him to where he was now, as he clawed his way up the proverbial high school ranks. Anyone at this party would look at him and only see the triumphant senior captain of the track team, fresh off a successful meet. Every keg stand, every heroic retelling of a close race, every sloppy makeout session with a cheerleader, kept the attention on the Eddie of the present. 
No one needed to remember the wide-eyed weirdo with patched baggy clothes, nearly ten when his classmates would only turn nine that year.
All around him, the crowd ebbed and flowed between the alcohol and the bonfire, the flickering flames and shadows making it hard to tell who was who. Someone stumbled into Eddie, breaking him out of his brooding.
“Whoops, sorry Eddie! Guess I’ll have to make it up to you later.” Before he could say anything, the giggling cheerleader pressed a quick kiss to his cheek. (He knew he went on a date with her about a month ago, but her name eluded him. Tina, maybe, or Vicki?)
He forced a grin back. “Of course you didn’t mean it sugar. Gonna hold you to that ‘kay?”
The girl possibly named Tina swooned at the tiny bit of accent he'd carefully slipped in. Just a touch could be charming to the fine folks of the Midwest, even if what he ended up using was way less Appalachian hick and more refined Southern gentleman than his momma's family had ever spoken in their lives.
As soon as her back was turned, he let the smile slide off. His post-meet high wore off too quickly tonight, and it left him well, twitchy.
An arm slung itself over his shoulder. "Ed my man, this party is wild! Your best work yet dude." Tommy grinned at him, already drunk. Neither of them commented on how close Tommy was pressing himself into Eddie. Or how Eddie wasn't quite moving away. But then again, the two of them had perfected the art of leaving things unsaid after what happened sophomore year, how close they had come to—no.
"Heh, yeah. Hey, where's Carol? She's gonna be pissed you abandoned her."
"Please, Carol's fine. She's busy talking with Lisa Carmichael. Speaking of which, she's really into you. Come on, get your dick wet, you deserve it after that 800 meter. We're fucking going to states!" His last sentence was said much louder, and a chorus of cheers and whoops predictably echoed back from celebratory partygoers. The twitchiness grew.
"I dunno man, not really feeling it tonight." Eddie tried to subtly back up a little bit, but Tommy just swayed forward into his space again.
“Trust me, you won’t be feeling like that when you're balls deep in a nice tight—"
"Tommy will you just fucking stop? What's with your obsession with my dick huh?"
A look of fear and hurt flashed across Tommy's face for a second, before it was replaced with a scowl. Fuck that was the wrong thing to say and danced way too close to the thoughts about—nope, they were not gonna talk about that.
Eddie carefully pat Tommy on the shoulder instead of thinking. "Shit sorry, it's fine, you're just looking out for me, right? I appreciate it, just not uh, really in the partying mood for some reason." 
Tommy managed to recover his grin. "Oh, duh, why didn't you say so? That fucking freak Harrington finally showed up about thirty minutes ago. Sure he's got something that'll make you unwind a bit. Here, have one on me.”
Eddie wanted to snap that he didn’t need pity money. He got the kegs supplied just fine on his own, hadn’t he? But Tommy was still holding himself tensely several steps away. Tommy, who in sixth grade biked over every other day even after his parents had told him to stay away from the trailer park. Who “accidentally” always had a second pudding cup tucked in with his lunch for sharing. Whose summertime freckles were just starting to fade but Eddie knew still trailed down all the way to his—. 
Besides, maybe weed would take the edge off whatever ugly thing kept rearing its insistent head inside him tonight. Help him forget about the looming pressures of the future and the things he wasn’t going to think about, help him feel normal again.
“Thanks Tommy, I’ll try and relax.” Eddie grabbed the money and set off down the path towards Skull Rock, where Harrington always held court. The chill wind rustling through the trees was a welcome respite to his overheated skin.
The walk over to the next clearing was only a few minutes, but by the time Eddie came upon it, the thrum of bass and general teenage debauchery had faded into a low murmur.
Instead, Skull Rock reverberated with the sound of tapping and gentle humming. Eddie’s heart picked up a little.
Read the rest on Ao3!
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It's finally here! This began life as a brain worm that Annie and I have turned into a whole fully expanded universe. We can't wait to write more with these two :D
Tagging a few folks who showed interest in the original Wiggly Wednesday post (but please feel free to ignore): @eyesofshinigami @augustjustice @griefabyss69 @hairstevington
Thank you to steddiecameraroll-graphics for the runner divider!
@dreamy-jeans137 @eriquin @hbyrde36 @hotluncheddie
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