#gotta stop using mad for every personal tag

[mad-c1oud]

“Don’t play the hero all the time.” with Etoiles and Slime if you'd like!!! They truly are blorbos <3

nonnie they really are, you're sooooooooo right

Charlie pov starcicle for a change

(more dialogue prompts here and here!! Thank you sm for this one anon <3)

+++++

“Don’t play the hero all the time.”

Charlie would feel bad for making Étoiles wince with how rough he’s being as he plays nurse, but he can’t find it in himself to calm down. Not after everything that just happened. He’s tired of almost losing this stupid fucking cucumber with a death-is-noble complex. It’s gonna give him grey hairs at this point. Grey slime. Whatever.

Étoiles hisses when Charlie accidentally brushes against an open wound along his arm in his haste to wrap the gouge in his shoulder. Fuck. He presses a warm but angry kiss to the back of his skull in an apology and the fighter hums happily. Idiot. Stupidstupidstupid-

“Then what other part am I going to play? You already have damsel in distress covered.”

Charlie rolls his eyes. “Har har, maybe consider the court jester route then, your jokes are getting better.” Étoiles snorts quietly, drooping forward tiredly. Charlie worries his lip between his teeth as he gently rights the fighter. He has to be exhausted after that fight. Pleased, content, and beyond satisfied with the outcome but tired. There’s a slump to his shoulders that Charlie rarely sees and it’s… it worries him. Étoiles is more than capable of doing what he does best, but Charlie wants to protect him too, he just has no idea how.

“Nothing compared to yours, Charlie,” The fighter probably means for it to come out sarcastically but his tone is sugary sweet and just so full of fondness that it has Charlie pausing where he’s winding gauze around the other’s torso to lean heavily into his back, arms coming up to wind around his waist carefully, mindful of the burns to his chest.

Charlie takes a moment to just breathe with the other, forehead pressed to the nape of his neck as they sit in silence. The stress of the day should be over, washed down the drain of the shower Charlie shoved Étoiles into the moment he won his fight, was out of arms way and in the circle of Charlie’s arms, back at home. Whole. Warm. Safe.

But there’s a lingering anxiety there, knowing this isn’t the last time they’ll be like this, but in all honesty, it’s an annoyingly fair trade. For all the times Charlie has to heal sew-up cuts and ice burns, Étoiles has to turn around and pull arrows out, replace broken bones. Back and forth. Around and around they go.

“You suck. Next time, let me play the plucky sidekick yeah? They always get cool deaths or super awesome heroic moments in the final battle. I need to complete my arc bro, lemme have that.”

Étoiles turns a little when Charlie finishes tucking the gauze into itself, wrappings bandaged limbs around the slime in as tight a hug as he can manage. Charlie tries to not actually melt into the embrace, sinking into the blissful warmth radiating from the star of the show. His star.

This is good. This is worth it all.

“Okay. Next time, Charlie.”

“Cool beans. Now unhand me, we’re not done with your boo-boos, babe.”

Étoiles giggles into Charlie’s hair, warm and happy and loose-limbed and safe. He’s safe. “No, I'm the hero and I won,so I am claiming my prize.”

Oh, this suave motherfuck- “That’s it, I’m going to bury you in the garden and see what happens. Say hi to the worms for me, dick.”

“Nononono Charlie haha please- not the dirt-“

Etoiles isn’t buried alive, but Charlie makes sure to bury him in kisses at least. Serves him right.

#they are silly #starcicle #etoiles #slimecicle #qsmp #qsmp slimecicle #qsmp drabble #qsmp etoiles #mad writings #mad box #gotta stop using mad for every personal tag #wrote this in 10 min excuse the mistakes and run on sentences

[fettuccin-e]

Better Than Nine to Five

hi guys i wrote this quite a while ago!! i had trouble with the beginning but, like with most things i write, the words started coming as soon as the characters started coming (get it?? get it cause like cum) but ANYWAY pls enjoy the poly!steddie content!!

Tags: Steve Harrington x Reader x Eddie Munson, established poly, dp in one hole, brief use of sex toys, afab!fem!reader, unprotected piv

Steve can barely ever get off work these days. He hasn’t been as fortunate in the job market as you or Eddie; the both of you have pretty strict 9 to 5 jobs, able to sit and relax after a day at work, knowing what your schedule will be the next week, and the week after that. Steve’s schedule, at best, is random and wildly inconvenient, working late shifts almost every night and waking up the next day with you and Eddie already gone to work, alone in your shared bed.

He hates it, you and Eddie know he does, but he puts up with it, wanting to help all of you save up for a house, a pretty one that’s the exact opposite of the run-down, shitty apartment that you all live in.

You and Eddie also know, however, that Steve needs a chance to fucking relax for once. And if there’s anything you both know how to do, it’s how to make your sweet, loving Stevie let out some steam.

It’s Eddie who calls Keith and tells him to let Steve out early for the day. “He needs tomorrow off too,” Eddie says, twisting his finger around the phone cord.

“No fucking way, Munson. I’m already doing a favor for him by letting him out today, but he’s coming in tomorrow, whether he likes it or not.”

Eddie opens his mouth to respond, eyes narrowed and angry, but you rip the phone from hics grasp.

“Look Keith, either you let Steve off tomorrow, or I'm going to the cops to tell them about the stash of weed you’ve got in your office. That we an smell it all throughout the damn store. And wouldn’t that just be a crying shame?” you snarl into the receiver.

“It was your freak boyfriend who sold me that shit in the first place!”

You nearly laugh at the high-pitched indignance in his voice. “Are you really gonna tell them that, Keith? Maybe I’ll also throw in the fact that they should probably look into your tax records, right? I bet there are some glaring inconsistencies, aren’t there?”

“You fucking bitc-” You hear Keith stop himself, sighing angrily. You hear a loud crash in the background just before he says, “I’ll let him off tomorrow, but you stay the fuck out of my business, you got that? I’ll-”

“Not a chance, maybe try being less of a shit person. Bye Keith!” You don’t give him a chance to respond, slamming the phone down.

Eddie watches you with wide eyes, before smirking, pupils blown and dark as he grabs your waist to pull you in for a hot, messy kiss. “You’re so fucking hot when you’re mad like that, baby.”

You giggle, reaching a hand up to play with his messy curls. “Gotta stand up for my boys, don’t I baby?” You step away from him, grabbing his hand to drag him to your bedroom. “C’mon, Eds, you gotta get me ready for Stevie, right?”

Eddie nearly faceplants into the carpet in his race to get to the bed.

It’s only an hour later that Steve unlocks the door to the apartment, stripping his vest off. Keith had stumbled out of his office earlier that day, mumbling something about, “go home early, Harrington, shit. Just wait till like, six or something, and you can go.” Steve had been confused, but decided not to question it, his heart galloping at the thought of spending the evening with the both of you for the first time in far too long.

Except the apartment seems almost empty when he walks in, all of the lights off and the living room and kitchen empty, devoid of both yours and Eddie’s presence. His heart drops, only for a second, thinking that he’s alone in the apartment, before he hears a loud, keening whine come from the bedroom.

Your unmistakable whine, followed by Eddie’s familiar whispered praises of “shh… baby I know, I know. It’s a lot, but I think he’s home, did you hear the door open baby? He’s gonna think you’re so pretty baby, so good, planning all this out for him.”

You answer Eddie with a choked sob, and Steve’s pants suddenly are far too tight, cock bulging almost immediately. He goes to open the door, and the sight that greets him almost makes him pass out on the spot.

You, with your hips hiked up in Eddie’s grasp, your flushed face pushed into the mattress as Eddie works his cock into you, his pretty hips slapping against your plush ass. Eddie’s head snaps over to the bedroom door, mouth pulled into a self-satisfied smirk while he keeps fucking you.

“Look, baby,” Eddie grunts, lifting his hand to give your ass a loud smack. You jerk, head turning to see what Eddie wants, and smile blearily at the sight of Steve.

“S-Stevie, you’re, ah, home,” you slur, struggling to get the words out between Eddie’s strong thrusts into your needy pussy.

Eddie watches as Steve’s eyes darken, his big hand moving down to palm at the bulge of his cock through his pants. “She’s been waiting for you, Harrington,” Eddie says, sounding almost like he isn’t fucking you stupid. “She had this all planned out, wanted to surprise you.”

“Well, uh, consider-” Steve coughs, eyes trained on Eddie disappearing into your pretty cunt over and over. “Consider me surprised baby.”

Eddie chuckles, and Steve’s eyes snap from where you both are connected. “Steve, this isn’t even the best part.”

“What?”

“C’mere,” Eddie mumbles, and you whine as he stops his thrusts. Eddie beckons Steve over with a playful finger, and Steve moves next to him, kneeling on the bed to see what Eddie thinks is so important.

Steve nearly chokes on his spit. Because there, in your dripping cunt, is a pretty blue dildo, shoved inside you right alongside Eddie’s cock.

“She wanted to take both of us today,” Eddie whispers into his ear, and Steve can hear Eddie’s smug smile. “Been working her open for the past hour, waiting for you to get home.”

Oh fuck. “Oh fuck,” Steve says, echoing his own thoughts. He smooths a hand over the soft skin of your ass, and you whimper softly.

“You like it?” you ask, almost tentatively, and Steve almost laughs at the absurdity of the question.

“Like it?” Steve says softly. His hand moves from your ass to push lightly on the base of the dildo, making you gasp sharply. “Baby, I love it. God, you’re so fucking hot.”

“You gonna take your clothes off, Harrington?” Eddie murmurs. “She’s been waiting so long for us, it seems cruel to make her wait any longer.” 

Steve follows Eddie’s vaguely concealed demand at an almost frantic speed, ripping off his shirt so fast it gets stuck on his arm for a second. He ignores Eddie’s tiny laugh. He stands off the bed to untie his shoes and shuck his pants off, his hard cock slapping harshly against his stomach. 

“C’mon baby,” Eddie whispers to you, “gotta let Stevie lay down, right? So you can sit on his pretty cock, yeah?” Eddie's mouth waters just a little at the sight of his boyfriend, hard cock glistening and hairy chest heaving. He looks fucking illegal, Eddie thinks. You nod your assent, but still whine as Eddie shuffles back, his cock slipping out of you along with the dildo, leaving you painfully empty for the first time in an hour. 

Steve follows Eddie’s instruction, laying down on the bed, while you kneel up, swinging a leg over his hips to straddle him. You lean forward to brush your lips against his, smiling softly.

“Hi, Stevie,” you whisper, and he smiles back at you, curling his fingers into your hair. 

“Hi, baby,” he whispers back, before crushing his mouth to yours. He feels Eddie grab his cock, notching it up against the entrance of your pussy, and suddenly you’re sinking down, down, sucking him into your sticky walls, making all three of you moan in unison. You and Steve breathe heavily into each other’s mouths as your ass finally meets Steve’s heavy balls, buried all the way inside.

“God, fucking shit, you both are so fucking hot, Jesus,” Eddie grunts from behind you, and you both can hear the unmistakable sound of Eddie’s hand slipping up and down his cock, still sticky with your juices.

You turn, smiling softly at Eddie’s blushing face, his lips parted as he looks at you both. “Eddie,” you whisper, “You can’t cum yet. Y’gotta fuck me too, right baby?”

Eddie curses again, before kneeling behind you, just like he had been a few minutes before. ”You are a fucking minx, you know that?” He mumbles, and you would giggle if it weren’t for the blunt tip of Eddie’s cock nudging against your opening, right beside Steve.

“Ah- Oh God-d” you whine as Eddie’s fat cockhead pops into your stretched out pussy. You thought you would be prepared for it, with the dildo, but you don’t think anything could’ve prepared you for this. Eddie’s sticky cock nudging along Steve’s as he sinks deep into you, Steve’s warm hairy body beneath you, his big hands on your waist while Eddie radiates heat above you.

Steve’s not doing much better, his eyes rolling into the back of his head at the feeling of Eddie’s gorgeous cock squished against his, the hot walls of your pussy strangling the both of them. Eddie’s hands are clutched into the bedsheets beside your sweaty bodies, and Steve takes his hands off your waist for just a second to grab Eddie’s hands, entwining their fingers together to hold onto your waist at the same time. You all take a minute to just breathe, allowing your pussy to adjust to the stretch of both of them.

They’re both whispering breathless praises into your ears, trying to get through to your cloudy brain. “So, so good for us, baby, taking us so good,” and “Can’t believe we’ve got you baby, you’re so pretty, so, so good for us. Y’feel so good, princess, fuck.” You can’t even discern whose voice is whose anymore, lost in a sea of pleasure and nearly-painful fullness, their cocks reaching so deep inside, pressing into every crevice of your sensitive pussy.

And then they start to move.

You try to gasp air into your empty lungs through your screams and cries of pure fucking pleasure, the both of them thrusting in tandem to bully your pretty pussy open for them again and again. Eddie’s face is nuzzled into the crook of your neck, pressing comforting kisses into your skin between whispers of “doing so good, princess,” and “y’feel how wide you’re stretched baby? Fuck, you’re so sexy, sweetheart, how’d we manage to land you?”

Steve’s groaning praises of his own, primal grunts of “so fucking sexy,” and “our pretty, gorgeous baby. God, can’t believe I’ve got you both,” before licking into your mouth in messy kisses.

You knew, even while planning this, that none of you were going to last long, and you’re a strange mixture of pleased and slightly disappointed to learn that you’re right. The knot in your stomach is tight, tightening and tightening as they rock into you, the overwhelming stretch of both of them keeping them pressing into your g-spot. You’re choking on your own spit as moans try to escape your throat. 

It’s going to be over far too soon, but knowing that you can take them both, that you three could do this again, makes your pussy clench, your clit throbbing. 

After only a few minutes of Steve’s and Eddie’s strong thrusts into your dripping cunt, grinding overwhelmingly against the spot that makes you sob, you reach your hands into both Steve’s and Eddie’s hair, your hips jerking uncontrollably.

“I’m gonna, oh God, I-I can’t, I’m gonna,” you gasp painfully, tears leaking down your flushed face, not even able to get the words out, before your pussy is clenching hard around both Steve and Eddie. You’re shaking like a leaf, overwhelmed and wrung dry as Steve and Eddie rub their joined hands up and down your waist.

“Shit, baby, you’re so fucking t-tight,” Eddie whimpers, composure fully lost. “Steve, I gotta-I gotta, gotta cum.”

Steve nods frantically, unable to form words, before he’s releasing one of Eddie’s hands to instead cup around his boyfriend’s head, dragging him down to meet his lips, licking into his mouth over your shoulder. Their hips stutter as they finally, finally cum, flooding  your dripping pussy with a mixture of both of them.

You all breathe heavily for a moment, the room feeling hazy. Like heaven, Steve thinks, this is like heaven. You know you can’t move, feeling drunk and ripped apart, but your boys know it too. They slip gently out of your used pussy, Steve moving you to his side to cuddle you into him gently. Eddie steps out for just a moment, coming back in with a warm, damp cloth.

“Baby, Eds is going to clean you up real quick, okay?” Steve whispers, and you whimper softly, nodding your head, your eyes still closed. Eddie takes the permission to wipe the sweat off your body, and clean up a little of the mess between your legs.

“Good girl, sweetheart,” Eddie whispers when he’s done, pecking you softly on your sleepy lips, before turning to give Steve a quick kiss. He throws the cloth in the hamper, knowing you would hate to make up to it laying on the floor, before laying on the other side of you, pressing himself comfortingly against your naked body. Steve reaches down to tug to the sheets over each of you, and grabs Eddie’s hand to hold, their palms resting atop your warm body.

“Shit, I’m gonna have t’call off work tomorrow,” Steve mutters into your hair.

“Don’ worry bout it,” you slur, sleep already whisking you away. “I took care of it.”

“She did,” Eddie smiles. “I’ll have to tell you about it tomorrow, she was fucking hot.”

“She always is,” Steve smiles, chest hurting with happiness and sheer, unadulterated love. “Our perfect girl.”

#steve harrington x y/n #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington smut #eddie munson x you #eddie x fem!reader #eddie munson smut #eddie munson x reader #steddie x reader oh yea #steddie x reader #steddie x you #poly!steddie #stranger things smut

[babydollmarauders]

MEDIA MANAGEMENT: BIRTHDAY EDITION — JACK HUGHES

part of the off-season editions!

notes: i know i’m not even caught up on the games yet! i am SO sorry! i’m gonna try posting a couple tomorrow! the hardest part has been finding the time to rewatch the games and take screenshots but i’m gonna try and do a few games tonight so that i can write tomorrow!

another note: i fried by brain with all the writing i’ve done today, so this isn’t nearly as fun and chaotic as i had hoped it would be when i first decided to write it :(

y/ndevils00

liked by jackhughes, nicohischier, and 144,952 others

y/ndevils00 HAPPY TAYLOR SWIFT BIRTHDAY TO THE SEXIEST MOTHERFUCKER TO EVER HAVE LIVED!!

my shoe matching, bags holding, 99 point scoring, hair cut needing, tooth losing, sebastian aho fighting, personal carrier! this kind, wise (but not smart), funny, handsome boy is 22 today!

jacky, you make me the happiest girl in the world every day, so i hope i can return the favor for at least this one specific day. thank you for being my best friend and the best cat dad! i’m so glad we had each other to lean on in our first year with the devils, and i’m so happy that you decided you liked me enough to keep me around.

we’ve had ups and downs, i’ve comforted you through losses, celebrated with you for wins, but i remain true to the fact that MY biggest win has been landing you.

i love you to pluto and wish you only the best in life, bubs. happy birthday <3

p.s. i hope you’re not already sick of hearing 22 (tv), cause it’ll be on all day! even during sexy times!

tagged jackhughes

jackhughes thank you sweet girl ❤️ i love you to pluto! i’m so grateful for you.

jackhughes however, i am gonna need you to stop calling getting ready for bed, “sexy times” and putting it on the internet where my mother can see it. she’s gonna think you’re talking about something else

y/ndevils00 your mother loves me, i can do whatever i want

elblue6 i love her and she can do whatever she wants!

jackhughes it’s my birthday and i’m feeling really attacked

trevorzegras you brought this on yourself dude

john.marino97 i thought i was the sexiest motherfucker to have ever lived?!

y/ndevils00 shhh jojo! i promise you are every other day of the year!

dawson1417 now hold on- you told me i was the sexiest motherfucker to have ever lived!

nicohischier she told me the same thing!

john.marino97 @/y/ndevils00 do you have anything to say for yourself?!

y/ndevils00 i fear i have been caught… 🏃‍♀️

john.marino97 happy birthday hughesy!

jackhughes thanks maraschino cherry!

john.marino97 not you too!

dawson1417 happy 22, man! been a pleasure playing with you! thanks for sharing your time with y/n with us!

jackhughes thanks man! you too! although i’ve had no choice in that last thing. i’d like my gf back!

dawson1417 i can’t do that.

nicohischier happy birthday jack! i’ve loved having you as alternate captain! can’t wait for next season!

jackhughes thank you cap! can’t wait to go even farther next season!

lhughes_06 happy birthday to the best middle hughes brother!

jackhughes i’m the only middle hughes brother? but thanks?

lhughes_06 yeah!

elblue6 happy 22nd birthday to my middle baby! i love you honey!

jackhughes thanks mom, i love you too! and happy mother’s day!

_quinnhughes happy bday little bro! hope you have a great day!

jackhughes thanks bro!

subbanator happy birthday lil jizzy! see you tonight, man!

jackhughes thanks man! we’re gonna have great night, eh?

y/ndevils00 what is this i hear of going out tonight? why do i find out you’re abandoning me, ON MY OWN POST?

subbanator @/y/ndevils00 sorry female jizzy! gotta take the man out!

y/ndevils00 did i just get called “female jizzy”? jackson, get this man off my post. i’m mad at you both @/jackhughes

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 yes ma’am

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes ….

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 still no.

dougieham happy birthday to y/n’s other half! i think i’ve met you once or twice

jackhughes thanks dougs!

trevorzegras HAPPY BIRTHDAY HUGHESY! 22! LET’S PARTY TONIGHT!

y/ndevils00 YOU’RE going too?! what is this, not invite y/n night?!

trevorzegras it’s not that you weren’t invited, it’s just…

y/ndevils00 it’s just what?!

trevorzegras i got nothing. sorry, i thought i would come up with something

jackhughes thanks z!

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 you ARE invited babe. i told you about it last night!

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes oh- it was 1am and you kept saying “tomorrow” so i thought you were talking about plans for tomorrow night

jackhughes @/y/ndevils00 WHO talks about plans at 1am and refers to it as “today”?!

y/ndevils00 @/jackhughes me 🧍‍♀️ so watch your tone toothless

lhughes_06 @/jackhughes HA! SHE GOT YOU!

#media management series <3 #jack hughes #jack hughes blurb #jack hughes x reader #jack hughes imagine #jack hughes fic #nj devils #nhl imagine #nhl blurb #nhl fic #faithlynn’s insta edits <3 #faithlynn’s writings <3

[platypusplayhere]

Thank you @dangerliesbeforeyou for tagging me, im mentioning all kinds of media bc I love to rant, I have a lot of love in my heart and I have trouble choosing just 8: (im making this on mobile hope it's readable).

Howl's moving castle (2004)

My first experience of gender envy, gender fascination, gender emulation for Howl, at a time I didn't even know that gender was a thing because I was like idek 7 years old.

Kiss of the rabbit god (2019)

A short movie, stumbled onto it bc of Tumblr. You honour, I simply love it.

Shrek (2001)

I'm not being ironic I'm very serious about this one. My mom used to braid my hair weekly when I was little and I constantly played this one, I know it by heart and I'm not joking. I freaking love this movie. Same goes for Mulan, Beauty and the beast, Charlie and the chocolate factory, and the whole Shrek franchise up to the 3rd one. (Gotta watch Puss in boots 1 and 2 tho.)

V for vendetta (2005)

This is a shout-out to 14 years old me who might have at some point based their personality around this movie or maybe they didn't, who's to say. I'm not sorry. Kinda still like it tho.

Corpse bride (2005)

There is an independent cinema in my hometown and they did run it often over the years. Bestie I don't know how many times I went to see this movie with my mother as a child. Recently learned about the Jewish origins of this myth and im a lil upset about the stolen storyline without the context. But some will say it's a Burton movie and they're right.

Valentine's day (2011)

First movie I went to see alone with my friends, I was like 12yo. Rewatched it again like 2 years ago, yeah it ain't that great but it's the memories right.

Father and soldiers (2022)

The last movie that made me cry. I hate war movies but my friends convinced me to go because it was less than 2 hours and I've been mad at movies being more than two and a half hours lately (looking at u House of Gucci, Doctor Strange 2) yeah, I cried my eyes out. It's not a perfect movie but the message is great and very moving. I don't like the English title because the original/French title directly refers the name of a group of African soldier recruited by France in its colonies during WWI -> "Les Tirailleurs" (if I remember well, the soldiers were recruited in every colonies but they left Africa from the Senegal and so all these soldiers are referred as Senegalese regardless of their actual origins). The English title is more fitting thematically wise I'll give you that.

Fulmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood (2009)

Knew about it, was recommended by a dear mutual of mine on this very hellsite and yeah, ppl keep saying it's good because it just is.

I told sunset about you/ I promised you the moon (2020-2021)

If you read my tags u know how I rant about this show often. Watched it 2 years ago thanks to someone i follow on Tumblr (but im not really sure who it was anyway if you're a mutual thank you sm). My first foray into BL (back when I didn't even know what it was) and I couldn't be happier that I started with this. I don't have enough words to praise it. (currently writing a post about it tho, stay tuned for whenever I get around to finish it (tell me if u wanna know when it's up), big up to Bad Buddy and To My Star too)

Honoured mentions bc I started making a list and had more than 8 and couldn't not mention them:

Other movies: O'brother, Love and Leashes, God's own country, Jackie Brown, The big lebowsky (idek if I like this movie but I needed something to base my personality around when I was 15yo)

The book The Hunchback of Notre-Dame by Victor Hugo, I'm gonna keep my rant about how the English title is a misunderstanding of the book locked and not even start it.

Alice isn't dead and The Magnus archives (although they're podcasts and I haven't quite finished them, the first seasons are exquisite)

Welcome to Night Vale, I have a lot of episodes to catch up on (currently working on that) started listening like in 2016 then stopped around idek 2 years ago. Some of these episodes are masterpieces ( some I know by heart: Guidelines for disposal, Love is a shambling thing, What happened at the Smithwick House, If he had lived, and The Pilot ofc)

the ballet Swan Lake (1995, 2012) by Matthew Bourne. I don't have enough words. I'll just say it's on youtube.

.....and many more im not think abt rn

*acts surprised* this became a real long post, real quick

(That's why I take a lot of time to answer those lmao, shout out and thank you to the ppl who tag me in these and then I take a lot of time to answer)

Tagging these people and anyone who wants to do it can mention me: @sherlockig @dontbesoevil @lordmeowdemort @namelessbeing @hairbackc0llarup @comrademichael @johnlockdynamic @lovelywickedsoul @frenchsiren

#tagged #ask game #yeah this could have gone on for a lil while #i have some ive yet to answer but its coming #i have many rants locked if u wanna know about them just ask #thanks for tagging me #platypustalks

[topazshadowwolf]

Only One

This is the last one! (I believe) Two things before we start:

1)I have greatly enjoyed writing these! Now that this one is done, I will take a break. Kinda been burning myself out staying up late to write them or waking up early (or both). That is part of the reason I had the whole 3AM thing going for a while. I'd get home from work, eat, take care of pets, then get working on these. (Not complaining, I'd do it again in a heartbeat, just wanted to say this because it matters for part two)

2)YOUR SUPPORT! I loved it! I read every tag more than once. The comments, the ask, and of course, the likes! Everything fueled me! Honestly, I should be exhausted, but I feel energized thanks to the support everyone has provided. You are all amazing! Thank you!

Now, enough, Here are the past parts and the new one!

Win or Lose

Curiosity

The Loss

How Could This Be?

Always a Victory

---

"thanks for the food, boss!" The boys all said together as they bit into the Fell equivalent of a cinnabunny. 

"You are welcome," Nightmare replied. They had sent Fell home after Grillby’s to spend the last few hours with his brother and (unfortunately) Dream. The boys had actually done well encouraging the Underfell Sans. It might also help him to see that The Sans "Undertale" had come to talk to him.

That had earned themselves a break and then a treat. So the group relaxed, did some sightseeing and tried various Underfell foods before the polls closed and it was time to leave. They had figured they would pay the grumpy skelebros one last visit now that the competition was over, with Underfell Sans winning. So they walked along, the boys eating their treats while Nightmare led the way. Killer was among the first to finish and had tried putting an arm around Dust, likely to wipe his sticky fingers off on Dust's jacket. 

The shorter skeleton was wise to him and ducked out of the way with a mumbled, "don't touch me.” Though he was barely understandable as he had just taken the last bite of his treat.

"fiiiine," Killer then tried again, this time with Cross. It was awkward for him with Cross being a taller Sans, but still, he managed. "just wanted to say that it looks like we did an excellent job, everyone!"

Nightmare used a tendril to grab Killer's hand before he could start wiping it off on Cross, "Killer, that is what napkins are for. Stop picking on your baby brother." He then used another to shove some napkins at Killer.

"wha- killer! get off!" Cross said as he pulled free from the other skeleton.

"cross, you should know by now that's what he was going to do," Horror said while licking his own fingers clean. Nightmare passed him napkins too.

"boss, you gotta stop protecting cross," Dust said as he was about to start wiping his hands off on his shirt. Nightmare quickly shoved some napkins at him.

"Why do you say that?" Nightmare huffed; he then handed napkins to Cross, who had quietly asked him, politely, for some like a civilized person. "Of course, here you go."

"because he's clearly not learning to not trust killer," Dust replied.

"i keep trying to prank the kid, but you keep saving him; he'll never learn. might end up as trusting as blue was," Killer added.

"interfering keeps him an easy target," Horror pointed out.

"wait, so it's not because you're mean, but you're trying to teach me something?" Cross asked, and the three nodded.

"No, it's because they are mad I have kept them from playing their little games on you. So, it is because they are mean," Nightmare said. He was about to say more when they all heard yelling. 

Nightmare turned in time to see Underfell Sans running towards them and then hurrying passed. As he ran, he hollered, "he's tryna kill me!"

Was Error here? It didn't feel like it. Nightmare could feel his anger, but not here… It felt like he had hidden away in that Outertale the Destroyer spared. So then, who was…

"you can run, but you can't hide, red! you are me, after all!" Sans, THE Sans, called out as he popped in beside the group. "yesh, look at him run. i don't remember the last time i ran."

"Excuse me, not that I do not enjoy the burst of fear I am feeling, but what is going on?" Nightmare enquired.

"hm? oh, i told him that there can only be one 'sans tumblr sexyman' and that we had to battle to the death," Sans shrugged with a cheeky grin.

"what?! no! why couldn't i have won?!" Killer groaned.

"he was pranking fangs," Dust said.

"yeah," Sans said, looking at Killer with an unamused stare, "i was pranking him. no actual fight or fight to the death."

"Meeting you has made me understand them and myself so much more," Nightmare hummed thoughtfully.

"heh, embracing your inner sans then?" Sans asked.

"More like my outer Sans, but yes. Anyway, I have a glitch to taunt. Have fun, Sans the Skeleton," Nightmare replied.

"i will, though i'd best tone it down. sunshine and fell paps weren't that fond of what i just did," Sans hummed, "don't like angering a papyrus, well, not like that. playfully annoying them is a different thing."

"Indeed, it is a shame to upset the Papyrus. But feel free to bother that ball of sunshine all you want," Nightmare mused.

"uh, yeah, no, i'm staying out of yer sibling rivalry, goopy," Sans said and then saluted before taking a step back and disappearing.

There was some soft snickering at the “Goopy” nickname given by Sans, but Nightmare was not going to let that sour his mood. There were too many rich, negative emotions to enjoy. And the one he wanted to enjoy most was one portal away. "Alright, men, to Outertale. Let us pay our poor friend Error a visit. I am sure he needs the company after losing," Nightmare grinned. "Oh, and let us be sure to tell him that he is missing out on meeting Sans Classic. We all know how he feels about Sans the Skeleton, I am sure that will brighten up his day."

True victory.

#nightmare!sans #dust!sans #horror!sans #killer!sans #cross!sans #sans #sexyman au sans #uh #that's it #going to be late for work if I don't run

[away-ward]

Thank you for your reply, KO! This is the anon from #asked and answered 176.

1 yes i like your fics, i like no apologies the most because we had insights to emmy's career and life in sf. Emmy might find herself boring, but ive always been a busy body reader so i would eat up everything about her personal and professional life in sf. I still hated will there, but thanks to you i hated him 5% less

2 "Ummm. I do think it’s a little weird that you’ve read multiple PD books, and even finished the DN series… especially since you were looking forward to Will. Because I hated Will for the first three books and if I weren’t curious about Emory, I wouldn’t have finished the series at all."

KO, you've underestimated a loyal hate reader's journey of hate reading 😂 i love pd's writing and i love some of their books that were not DN because of the chemistry of the main lovers (theyre not bad as many have said actually), but i still hated the ongoing misogynistic dynamic that they always had in their books. Its like having an author that you majorly like what they do, but their side mistakes were big enough to irritate you so you remember them, kinda thing. Do you have these kinds of author that feel like this towards? To answer this simply: pd's books are like worms for brain for me. Like when i read books by Colleen hoover, or hd carlton, sophie lark, lauren asher, or susanne valnti &peckham. It's the kind of toxicity you need from time to time but still get mad and disappointed by your low expectation at their shit ass plot and mfcs and fmcs anyway, yk. 

KO, i cant lie, im just a hater first, a hate reader second and a reader third 🤣 once i stop, i cnat quit. Like damon torrance, that punk ass devils night philosopher said, sometimes you just want to feel everything including the ugly ones you know, and like michael crist the logician, you just gotta own it, before it owns you, GOD HAHAHAH i cant believe im using them as my metaphors right now!! Please bare with me here.

3 "I also find it equally weird that your first impulse after finishing a series you hate is to go to the tag of the character you hated the most? I mean, I’ve definitely clicked on hot-takes I know I’m going to disagree with and hate-read things, but it’s not my go-to."

hmm? KO, i think... youre just not as toxic of a reader than me, ohmygod, im so sorry! 🤣☠️ im really of those people that will immideately look up one and two star ratings on goodreads so that i know my feelings and thoughts were validated by other haters, lmao! Do not mind me, its not a good thing, but like damon torrance said, live, love, laugh, and hate, you know 🤩

4 thank you so much for your recs, i also actually grew up watching hana yori dongo! I watched the kdrama version too but idk if i'll watch the thai version. I have less patient for dramas now unfortunately, and the last drama i watched was "celebrity" on netflix, and i still havent finished it, even after 3 month ☠️ I used to love kdramas and lee minho was so popular back then, so i also watched him in "the heirs" too. Ohmygod his hairsyles in both dramas (boys over flowers and the heirs) were so funny, but i remember enjoying these stories a lot. I believe these two kdramas were released during the time where kdramas were having a lot more angsty romantic relationship than platonic ones and they both stood out among many others, not only because of lee minho, park shinhye and bunch of k-idols acting there, but also because of the friendships and platonic relationships shown that were fun to watch. It's a break from other dramas like moon embracing the sun, or my love from another star that were romance-heavy, yk. But tbh, i prefer my love from another star and moon embracing the sun more than bof/hyd and the heirs. If there are two recs i'd like to give you, they would be "hotel del luna" and "sky castle". God damn, i cried in every single episode watching these two dramas. They really touched my soul, everything was so good!

5 i havent scrolled through your blog and notice your recs for sempre, but from your recs, i checked and saw its goodreads rating and it's pretty high! Maybe i'll check it out if im interested. Seems like a mafia gang story? I need to be in the mood to be reading mafia stories because my first ones were from reading kpop mafia fanfics from years ago and the latest and the last one were the made series by danielle lori. The made series were entertaining but i noticed that i didnt care much about mafias? Hahahahah idk, and idc much about vampires, and wolf stories either, but i like faes. Not Sarah j maas type of faes, but holly black's and cassandra clare's. The ones that are beautiful, creepy, complicated and loves/have to lie but cant. So yeah, thanks for recommending sempre!

6 as for alex, im tired of her, and honestly i dont want to think about her anymore. I'll pretend nightfall alex never existed, and nightfall will grayson fucking died a gruesome death, becoming of two stupid selfish best friends who think theyre the only suffering in this world. You know this reminded me of a quote by madeline miller's Circe that really fits will's selfish behaviour especially in blackchurch: “He showed me his scars, and in return he let me pretend that I had none.” thats exctly how i felt throughout blackchurch. Because emmy always had to heavylift whatever bullshit that alexwillaydin put out to her. And as someone who was so used to just move forward and not caring about her small losses because she had suffered worse, emmy just had to act like she was okay with all the little hurts and cruelty cause by people, just because she loved them/will and wanted to not give up on him and give him a second chance, because he was hurting and she understood that he cared then (🙄). Good thing, she admitted she was at fault partly too, but god, i hated when she felt like she need to go above and beyond for a man who admitted didnt care enough about her. Gods, these mf men need therapy frfr.

7 "I truly am sorry that it was such a bad experience for you. You’re welcome to stick around, but I’m sure since you hated so much, you’re ready to move on after unloading like that. But it’s all good either way. I hope you’re on to better and better things." 

No need to be sorry, but you're right, i'm starting some new reads right now, and idk why, but kandi steiner, liz tomforde and laura pavlov really do be hitting with their releases!! Like their stories are not dark romance so tat cleansed me from devils night series a bit, and they are so fun to read! They gave me melanie harlow's vibes. If anyone's interested, i suggest checking out Blindside by Kandi Steiner, Right Move by Liz Tomforde, and all of these four authors backlogs tbh. Kandi Steiner even have like a college frat series? Which i havent checked out but it sounds fun, and its called Palm South University series.

I dont have anything else to add as well, thank you for reading my rants, have a nice day! I think this will be my last one, so goodbye!

KO, you've underestimated a loyal hate reader's journey of hate reading

Hey!! Okay. This is very helpful! Thank you for the insight. I’m not a stranger to hate watching/reading and (used to) do it frequently. And I would complain to all my friends about all the horrible stuff that was happening, but they knew I was having a good time.

It’s harder when I don’t really know who I’m talking to, to tell if I should take it seriously or if they’re enjoying the trash like me. We’re completely on the same page in that case so ignore very thing I said about not getting it. If you’re having a good time hating it, I got you!

i think... youre just not as toxic of a reader than me, ohmygod, im so sorry!

I might not be anymore but I definitely used to be, ngl. And I don’t know if you can end up running a DN blog without having some toxicity left in you??? I mean. We’re not here because this work was a masterpiece, am I right?

I don’t currently have any authors I must read/hate-read. Like I’ve said, I haven’t had the time to get into a lot of new stuff lately, and my tastes have changed. They could always change back, since reading is a mood-based activity. For now, though, I’ve left the dark and toxic behind for something that makes me feel good about the world.

i also actually grew up watching hana yori dongo! I watched the kdrama version too but idk if i'll watch the thai version. I have less patient for dramas now unfortunately

Oh my god the Kdrama! It was my first Kdrama. Fond memories. And no worries, I haven’t touched any drama in years. Truthfully, I think the only reason I can get into the Thai version is because of the familiarity.

but from your recs, i checked and saw its goodreads rating and it's pretty high! Maybe i'll check it out if im interested. Seems like a mafia gang story?  

It is, kinda? But it’s really layered, with a good plot and great characters. I could ramble about it for a while, but I don’t think anyone is interested currently, so I won’t burden you with it 😂

holly black's and cassandra clare's

I did really like the folk of the air series, and I read the spiderwick chronicles in middle school, but I haven’t gone back to holly black in a long time. I did want to read the new one but haven’t had the chance.

--

Oof Alex. Now that I know where you’re coming from, I can completely agree. I’ve been re-reading and analyzing her intro in Nightfall and how weird it was; how it derailed everything in the worse way. Sometimes, when writers are stuck on where to go with a scene or plot, there’s a tactic that’s recommended: have someone walk in with a gun. It causes enough of a upheaval to keep the plot moving. I’m not sure if that was what Alex was supposed to do, but it really didn’t work for me for a lot of reasons.

Because emmy always had to heavylift whatever bullshit that alexwillaydin put out to her. And as someone who was so used to just move forward and not caring about her small losses because she had suffered worse, emmy just had to act like she was okay with all the little hurts and cruelty cause by people,

Yes! She had to work so hard just for a little, and what killed me the most is reading her scenes where she agrees with them.

She has the moments of clarity, where it seems she remembers why she did what she did, and she's not sorry, and that she wasn’t to blame for what happened to Will. Then next minute… she’s back to blaming herself for no reason? I’ve said many times before that Emory’s guilt is misplaced, and at certain times, it can’t be ignored that it was really PD pushing this “Emory deserves this” narrative, but I just can’t jive with it at all. There's a question on her good reads page where she says that she thinks Will is the most justified in his hatred.

And just... no. He's not. Literally none of them were justified in their hatred. They had the right to feel wronged. Sometimes we feel wronged, even if we carry some of the blame for what happened. But to say they were justified is just over the line. I really wish PD had more balance when it come to assigning blame. I think this series would have benefitted if one of the themes of the story was that everyone makes decisions, and right or wrong, we have to living with them. These are the consequences.

Like their stories are not dark romance so tat cleansed me from devils night series a bit, and they are so fun to read!

Yeah, it’s always nice to find something new that works! Thanks for the recs. I hope if anyone is looking, they’ll look them up. Sorry I didn’t have more strong female friendships, but they can be tough to find in todays romance climate.

I totally get you not coming back. It was absolutely a blast talking to you and thanks for the clarification! It always helps.

Have a great one, KO

#asked and answered 177 #related to prev ask #asked and answered 176

[cupids-chamber]

is that a yanfei pfp omg, my inner and outer yanfei main loves you oh oh oh and and and also screw that dumbass ask this anon sent about yuuka THEY ARE SO INCORRECT GRRR "y'all only like yuuka because she is a girl!1!1!1!1!1!1!"

yeah no fucking shit so many of us like her because it solidifies the place of fem!yuus in the twstverse and stops dumbass people saying "hmph. its a MALE ONLY COLLEGE why do you have a female OC?? Just make a male OC???" (obviously not every person is like this and we should still appreciate masc OCs they matter just as much mwah) but we should denounce people who are so close minded.

like mannnnn that ask made me so annoyed but your response literally summarised everything i would've wanted to put into words but a bit less violent. the audacity they had to send in that dumbass ask smh like damn bitch let people enjoy a new character? so what if it's fem!yuu? like this is one of the times twst isn't being problematic but nah people still gotta have a problem with this and not the other issues (cough cough "Monsieur pyramid" cough cough)

also yuuken was actually pretty hyped up intially did that anon just sleep through an entire period of twst tumblr fandom lmao. i remember people writing so many fics and i haven't seen anyone say jack shit but the moment it's yuuka its "Nooo you're gonna project onto her waaaah!" like pls stfu we are literally just excited for a new character joining our silly fandom and becoming the subject of either a) unimaginable fluff or b) unimaginable angst smh /j

im sorry for taking my silly anger out in your askbox (ofc none of that is directed at you cause you wrote a bomb ass response to them and honestly you really put them in their place!) but that ask just annoyed me so mf much and i been thinking over my anger of it for a day and a half now

love your fics btw I get so mf excited when you post EJFHHEJD I hope you're having a lovely day mwah mwah, feel free to ignore this ask too no pressure 💓

(_____)

NO BECAUSE I HELD MYSELF BACK, I say a lot of shit when I'm mad so it's better I hold myself back in these scenarios. But that's true, like search the Yuuken x reader tag and you'll find a sum of fanfic's, if you go to the yuuka x reader tag.. It's just me!

Sure Yuuka's hyped up, but like you said a decent chunk of it was due to the fact that her existence makes it so no one can attack fem oc's. And yeah a whole other part of the fandom simped for her, but you have got to understand that majority of the twisted wonderland fandom from my experience is homosexual.

Like I know a decent few lesbians, who write twst fanfic, so it's like not much of a shock that people simp for her a lot. And anon has to realize that fanfiction was created so you can self insert yourself in a scenario.

Like making that comment on a fanfic blog, was really fucking stupid ngl. And it seemed misogynistic from my perspective, ngl. I didn't say it because in my humble opinion that might've been "taking it too far"

Anyways, thank you for sharing your opinion, (And it's ok to rant to me as long as your not being rude abt anything) AND THANK YOU FOR ENJOYING MY WORK <3 And abt Yanfei, I've been growing her! I may main her one she gets to lvl 90!

#— cc. answers !! '' #— cc. anons ''

[dabi-the-burnt]

K I gotta rant. ITS driving me crazy.

So I've been in a long distance relationship for nearly two years. Known him since we were just fresh into high-school.

Bla bla bla.

Bro goes to prom without me in May. While we're dating. He says he's going with friends. And I'm like. Eh that gives me the ick.. (he lives an hour away and has turned down every opportunity to meet up) but I accept it. He's gone the whole day. Doesn't say shit right. Promises to show me pics. I try to be happy for him. Tell me why I just found the pictures by mistake on someone else's Instagram? TELL me why he didn't mention that he wore a matching suit to the dress of his closest best friend who he always blows me off for and is moving in with in a few months. You know, the friend he's told me he will always put over me and would never cancel on for me for anything. The one he can stop talking to me to call with but can't even text me when he's literally doing nothing with them. Yeah.

And then this weekend he told me how I'm just in the computer. And he doesn't want to be on his computer. He wants to go out and live his life. Fair enough man, I get it. But maybe don't insult and degrade the person you chose to be in a relationship with? He genuinely makes me feel like I'm this massive burden that he doesn't want around.

He never told me about this one person either until last week when WE were supposed to be able to talk before he went out of state with the prom friend. He never told me about this new person until he was a few minutes away from getting coffee with them. And apparently how he met them. Was. And I quote, "they looked cool and gay so I asked for their Instagram".

It's sketch because this was last minute. But I can't ever even CALL him because he's "busy." And "can't make last minute plans." And "his parents have to know all details even if he's 18" and they apparently can't know about me. Which I get it. Parents can be strict. But like.. if they're cool with your Starbucks stranger why the hell am I an issue if we've been together this long?

Also. I'm not allowed to tag him. Starbucks bitch can tag him though! And they can comment things like "aw can't wait to see you x" but I'm not allowed to comment on his posts because what if someone sees. But literally anyone else can.

I'm toning this all down. He literally goes out almost every single day to go on date like activities. And I'm like you know what, I'm not gonna be controlling. As long as things are cool it's fine.

But we've been together for this long. And he only just told his friends about us in about April. OF this year. With no prior mention of me. Ever.

He gets mad when I try to work things out with him. Mind you, I'm a total pushover about it. I let him do anything.

But the moment I decided to wait until after his Starbucks date to politely ask if we could go over boundaries because this made me uncomfortable, he went off on me. Made it about something else entirely. Mentioned my sh (which was just a total weapon. I've been so clean and so good.) AND made the comment about how I'm just in the computer. And he doesn't want to spend his life at the computer.

Which again, fair enough. But. Then he proceeded to watch Netflix. On his computer. You see the issue?

Also, I never have his undevided attention. He quite literally only talks to me when looking at Twitter or whatever else. AND it's very few words and very far in-between.

It just hurts me. I literally sobbed texting him and I flat out said I just wanted to be loved half as much as he loves his friends. And he literally just told me how he wants to spend time with his friends and I need to not bother him.

Why are we dating then? If you hate me and cannot spend time talking to me, why string me along?

His good moments with me are so few in between now. And I'm hurt beyond repair. But he's away on that trip. And I'm waiting until he gets home to talk about all this. But I guarantee he's going to be mad over it. No matter how I present it.

I'm sorry, but I've been so lenient and so patient. And I can't keep being guilt tripped and treated like less than literal feces.

#vent.

[nocturnalswarehouse]

Tag game!

I was tagged by @blossom-adventures and @thequeenofthewinter :)

3 Ships:

I'm going to delve away from Skyrim here because my procrastination response if I don't want to be productive around my place, is to immerse myself in as much media as possible. So an obvious one is OC/Brynjolf. Otherwise, Adi would not exist XD my others are OC (or reader)/Jacob Frye because I'm still hyperfixating on AC Syndicate. I also recently finally started Jane the Virgin, and I'm a slut for Jane/Rafael

1st Ever Ship:

I was but a young child, barely able to comprehend reading when my first ever a ship came to be. I shit you not. I think I was 5. It was Blue/Magenta in Blue's Clues. I found out a couple years ago was also my first gay ship, and I am HERE for it.

Last Song:

Boyfriend by Dove Cameron

Last Movie:

I watched one in my filmmaking class by a local director who created a film about a Ukrainian woman who immigrated to modern-day Winnipeg. Do I remember the title? Nope. Do I want to? Nope.

This movie was filmed back in like,,, 2019 I believe, is what he said and released like last year. It's two hours and could've been easily cut down to one. Very slow, almost too slow. I liked a lot of the shots. It was interesting to watch a film where only two characters - who were in there briefly - spoke English.

So there are good things about it, but it definitely could've been way better. I felt like the writing was almost too dry, and the director didn't give us any context as to what the plot was or any warnings that were needed (nudity and a certain subject related to nudity that is unpleasant to watch, to put it nicely).

I just think we should keep cishet white north American men away from creating films with that kind of subject because they don't,,, get it. Granted, neither do I but I do have an entire family of immigrants.

Currently Reading:

Well, it was my personality psych textbook, but no more! I hope to finish @thequeenofthewinter's fic because I'm behind due to school, and after that? Well, when the term starts, one of the texts for one of my classes is "The Handmaid's Tale," and I'm VERY excited to read it.

Currently Watching:

Too many things at once.

Jane the Virgin

Wednesday (I get the hype, I have critiques, but imma keep them to myself because it's very nitpicky and a bit pretentious)

RuPaul's Drag Race S14 (I'm on episode 7)

Canada's Drag Race S2 (I'm on episode 4)

The Witcher (started it in September, had a depressive episode)

Slow rewatch of Avatar: The Last Airbender because I'm following the podcast recaps and discussions

Slow rewatch of Kim Possible because I got bored and switched to the Witcher (it's great to watch after a long shift at work, though)

Wizards of Waverly Place (helped me through the depressive episode. Downside? I've seen it so many times the show is fully memorized)

Hunters on Amazon Prime (They re-edited the show to take out the scenes that got a lot of negative press, and I'm mad, so I stopped because they also re-edited my favourite scene in the entire show)

Teen Wolf (gotta prep for the movie coming out in 2023)

Okay yeah, so my fam and I have a lot of streaming services. Welcome to my Dad, and I are movie buffs

Currently Consuming:

Water. I'm pulling an all-nighter because I gotta be at the airport in two and a half hours, so if I sleep I will miss my flight. Gotta stay hydrated!

Currently Craving:

Tacos from a place back home, and lemonade from a pop-up lemonade stand that ends up at every big event in my city back home and if I can convince my parents I'll be able to get one and won't have to wait until Stampede in July next year. It's the best damn lemonade I've ever had.

The specific tacos I'm craving are the best damn fast-food tacos I've ever had, but I've definitely had better. My sister worked at a Mexican restaurant specializing in tacos that a family member owns, for god's sake. Although, now that I'm thinking about it, I also crave those. I think I just want tacos.

I can't really think of anyone to tag (the main person I would've tagged, tagged me first XD), so I pass this on to anyone that wants to do it :)

#thanks for the tag! #tag game #this was fun! #also sorry I tend to ramble lol

[lovedeathalice]

all you gotta do bae is block them. don’t respond to them cuz it only adds gas to the fire. whether you use it as a coping mechanism or not, it’s nobody’s fucking business in the first place. they’re acting like eren yeager is an actual person but he’s not. He as well as ALL fanfics are made up. you’re doing the most you can by adding warnings, tagging the fic and adding a ‘keep reading’ tab with it. It’s not your fault that they choose to ignore warnings. It’s there for a reason.

Another note, nobody is glorifying rape. If you read a non con fanfic and think “hmm, well if it’s like this scenario, I would let it slide” then you should either seek therapy or you’re not old enough to be reading about topics like this. To know that some people think that we think rape is okay is absolutely absurd. We obviously know the fucking difference and would never want that to happen to us irl nor would we wish it upon anyone. And the fact that people are wishing it or implying it is truly appalling.

If dark content bothers you, filter out the tags and block those creators so you NEVER have to come across dark content. We won’t get offended, if you’re uncomfortable with it, it’s all good. I also don’t understand why people are getting mad that we’re calling it dark fanfics? What, do you want us to call it “Eren fluff” or some stupid shit like that?

Point is, nobody is gonna stop writing what they want just because you don’t like it. It may be helping someone mentally. If you were SA and therapy worked for u, congradu-fucking-lations but everyone is different. Tumblr as well as AO3 have nothing in the guidelines that say writing dark content isn’t allowed. Especially cuz Eren’s a fucking anime character lolzz.

Sorry for the long message, it’s just so infuriating to see the entitlement of some people. I hope you’re doing okay and don’t let this get to your head. Just block em and they’ll have nothing to bitch about. You can also block an anonymous sender so their ask never reach you.

Love ya, sweet❣️

Tw: SA & rape mention below the cut, & long ass rant

YES YES, EXACTLY EVERY SINGLE THING YOU SAID HERE!!!!!!

I always ignore them best I can, but at that point i literally just lashed out because saying i WANT to be SA'd??? Like are you fucking serious???

I see SO many ppl, aka antis, in every single fandom treating SA as some kind of right & requirement to write noncon & it's insane.

It's a fantasy. As simple as that. It's common, and I sure as hell DON'T want it to happen to me IRL, at ALL. So getting occasional hate wishing that on me is just so mind boggling & disgusting. Like how u gonna get mad at me for what I write then proceed to be a shit human being in the next sentence🤦🏻‍♀️

At the end of the day, this is all FICTION!! Eren Jaeger is not a real man. He's fake. He won't jump out the screen & say "Hey guys I'm uncomfy with being in dark fics😢"💀 LMFAO

And exactly, I literally tag everything, put warnings, and put everything below the cut! I do my part, so do yours by avoiding my fics if you dislike them!!

Being uncomfortable with what I write is understandable, but when you harass me over it, it definitely isn't.

Plus people who write dark content do not always need therapy. Fanfics for me are an outlet. It's as simple as that.

And please don't be sorry for the long message! THANK YOU for sending it!! It really helps me and makes me feel better after getting shitty hate🥺💞 Thank you sm for sending this in, it means so much to me💞

Also i need to know how to block anons?!??! Bc holy shit that would solve all my tumblr problems

#tw sa mention #sa mention #tw noncon #Gina's lovely anons♡ #Gina's inbox ☆

[brilleonix]

Eavesdropping Mishap

Do not plagiarize.

Pairing: Han Jisung x Reader

Synopsis: Your friend's skipping you like the ads on YouTube, and you get to the bottom of it.

Tags: Friends to Lovers, Non-Idol AU, University AU, fluff, slight angst, humour, Jisung being denser than condensed milk, profanity

Word count: 3k

You’re sure Jisung's avoiding you.

Every single time you had greeted him, he only stayed around to stutter out a polite response and then an excuse to scram.

Oh, he’s got this errand to do, he’s gotta run.

Oh, he’s got that person calling him, he’s gotta go.

You couldn’t even roll your eyes enough at the ones he would give you on days, you were sure, he had exhausted his daily quota of intelligence.

‘Oh, I’m sorry, I gotta go. I forgot to water my cat!’

He doesn’t even own a fucking cat?!

You tried to confront him about it, keyword being tried. But the most time you got was probably twenty seconds before he scuttered before your flailing hands.

Unbelievable.

Gradually, he started sitting as mortally far from you as possible in class.

He became mute when the group conversation shifted to you. And when you gathered the courage to ask him yourself, he abruptly cut you off and changed the topic.

You huffed at this childish behaviour.

It was hard to miss the concerned looks your friends threw or the way Chan chastised Jisung for interrupting you for the nth time. You always brushed it off with a light laugh, but truthfully, it stung deep down.

Finally on an bright sunny Tuesday, your close friend, Amy, turned to you during lunch break.

“So...what’s up with you and Han?”

You stopped chewing and stared at your chicken nuggets. “What’s up with us?”

She rolled her eyes. “Oh please, don’t play dumb with me. You don’t even look at each other anymore!”

“So?”

“So?” Amy’s eyebrows shot up in incredulity. “Are we just going to ignore the fact that the two of you used to be joined at the hip? What happened?!”

You picked at your nuggets. “...I don’t know.”

“What do you mean, you don’t know.” She frowned.

“I mean, I have no idea what happened with that idiot!” You exclaimed, throwing your hands up. “One day we’re peachy, and the next thing I know, he’s avoiding me like the plague. I thought, maybe it was his male PMS acting up but—” A big sigh escaped you as you thought back to your futile attempts at approaching him. “...I give up.”

Amy regarded you steadily. “That’s it? You’re giving up on your friendship?”

“What no!” You straightened up as you looked at her. “I am just...going to give him some space. It’s clear that he doesn’t want me around.” For whatever god damn reason he’s not man enough to tell me.

You seriously couldn’t understand this sudden development in Jisung. You had always been there for each other, a support beam that never wavered.

Even when you almost lost yourself off of the face of Earth because of an irresponsible drunken spree in the wilderness, while Jisung ran hours looking for you.

Or that time—quite frankly, multiple times—you saved his ass from getting handed to him by his unsupportive parents because he was up late working on his mixtape instead of his thesis.

It made you angry. And hurt. But mostly, angry. Maybe the anger stemmed from that hurt. But anyway!

The point is you were mad at Jisung. It disconcerted you when he didn’t allow you to help resolve whatever was making him blatantly ignore your entire existence.

A dry devilish chuckle made its way out of your throat as you thought of all the ways you were going to strangle the man once he finally came around.

“You might want to go easy on that spork there, sis.” A firm hold on your shoulder startled you out of your dark thoughts. Amy eyed you playfully. “It doesn’t already look like it has a strong will to live.”

You glanced down. The plastic cutlery was almost bent over to its breaking point in the deadly grip of your dominant hand.

“Oops!” You immediately relaxed, gently placing it back on your plate. Get a grip on yourself. “My bad, Mr. Forky.”

“(Y/N).”

Amy’s voice turned unnaturally sombre. The previous glint of playfulness was completely gone from her face.

“What?” You asked, shifting uncomfortably in your seat.

She took a moment to look at you from one eye to the other, gingerly taking your hand in hers. Was that a glint of hope budding in her eyes?

“Does this mean I won’t have to put up with you whining about Jisung like a lovesick puppy?”

You gasped, snatching your hand back. “I don’t whine about him!”

“Sure, honey.” Amy drew out the syllables, completely unimpressed as she inspected her nails. “And I’m into men.”

The following night, you stood in front of your bathroom mirror with your toothbrush in your mouth. Your mind had been running on Jisung like a hamster in a wheel the entire day.

Were you being too dismissive by letting him get away with his behaviour? As a good friend, you needed to let him know when he strayed too far. But as a good friend, didn’t you also need to respect his boundaries if he wanted to be left alone? You at least deserved a heads up though, right?

“UGH!” You pulled at your hair in frustration. “Screw you, Han!”

• • •

Today was Rehearsal Day.

And you were sweating bullets the moment you made it to the auditorium.

You positively had a very bad case of stage fright—you still can’t get over the insensitivity of the Class President who assigned you to this thing—but that was hardly the reason why you were wiping your clammy hands on your jeans every other minute.

Your questionnable friend had also been chosen in the cast for the upcoming play your university was hosting. And you were going to do something about it.

Before you knew it, rehearsal ended. Loud chattering filled the air as students and teachers alike filed out the auditorium. Everyone was buzzing with excitement about their final performance the next day. You were nervous too, but mostly because of what you were going to do in the next minutes.

You waited for everyone to exit—everyone except your target, who you knew to be a slow slug. Then, carefully on your tippy toes, bolted the doors.

You heaved a sigh of relief when it didn't arouse his attention.

Aha! How’re you gonna run away now?

You honestly didn’t know how that idiot survived sometimes. What if you had been a serial killer and successfully sneaked in for his blood?

Hold on a second. If everything went well, that wouldn’t be too far from reality. You were planning to strangle him anyway.

With a determined nod to yourself, you strode over to where he was crouched unsuspectingly over his backpack. He didn’t know what—or who—was going to hit him.

“Jisung.”

The boy sputtered at the sound of your voice, nearly lost his balance and stood up facing you with a water bottle in his hand.

His eyes were wide in trepidation as he stammered your name.

It was truly a comical sight. His lips went agape, eyebrows vanishing into his bangs as water dripped down his chin. You cleared your throat in a hasty attempt to hide the laugh that was threatening to bubble out.

“Jisung, we need to talk.” You said, masking your nervousness behind a steely tone.

“Oh. Um.” He gulped. He had not been expecting this straightforward confrontation. “I...I have a class right now? Yeah, a class! So I really need to dash. Chat later?”

You deadpanned. “You don't have any classes after practice.”

“I do now! I signed up for a few, uh, last week, ha-ha.” There was clear perspiration forming on his forehead.

The need to sigh for the umpteenth time grew overwhelmingly strong. But instead, you fixed him with a hard look. “Jisung, I’ve had enough of your excuses.”

He stepped back in surprise. “What are you talking about?”

“I think you know exactly what I’m talking about.” You sneered, marching into his bubble. You would be damned if you let him run away again. He gulped for the second time as he instantly retracted.

Unfortunately for him, the soundproof wall stopped his escape.

“Jisung…” You cornered him. “Why are you avoiding me?”

The air grew tense. You’ve been meaning to ask this question for an entire week, and the lack of clarity was close to driving you insane. Jisung’s shoulders slumped in defeat.

“You can drop the act, (Y/N).” He muttered darkly, bangs overshadowing his eyes. “I know how you really feel about me.”

What?

You froze. No. He couldn't have known. Amy would never sell you out like that. And you always made sure you were discreet... Weren’t you?

You breathed. “What?”

“I heard you, okay! Talking shit about how you can’t stand the fucking sight of me,” Jisung ran his fingers through his hair, his eyebrows scrunched in painful anger, completely oblivious to your stumped expression. “I can’t believe you feel that way and didn’t say it to my face. I really thought we were ride or die's, you know?”

You blinked at him. This was a lot to process at one time. What the hell was he talking about? Not only was this phenomenally different from what you were expecting, but those words strung a distinct memory from a few weeks prior.

“Jesus Christ, Amy! I don’t know how long I’ll be able to take it before I practically combust!”

You paced around the empty auditorium, your phone in a tight grip against your ear.

“You know what’s wrong. I can’t stand the sight of him anymore. He's so insufferable!”

“What? Of course I mean Jisung. Yeah, Han Jisung! Are there any other Jisungs I complain to you about?!”

You sighed as you stared ahead into the darkness.

“I just don’t understand why I had to catch feelings for such an idiot like him..”

Your eyes widened in realisation. “You eavesdropped on me?!”

“I didn’t mean to!” There was a hint of guilt strewn across his face but he stood his ground. “I forgot my backpack in the auditorium and came back to fetch it. I didn’t expect to hear you ranting away to your friend about how much you fucking hated me!” His voice raised an octave towards the end.

“Well, you obviously didn’t listen to the entire conversation or else we wouldn’t be here right now!” Your own voice rivalled his, bathed in exasperation.

“What?” Jisung blinked.

“I don’t,” You paused to take in a shaky breath. “I could never hate you, Jisung.”

“What?” There was a significant sag in his posture, but a newfound confusion took over his features. “Then what the hell was that all about?!”

Despite your best efforts at self-control, you couldn’t help the heat that tingled across your cheeks.

“(Y/N)?”

You glanced at him through your lashes. Goddammit. What were you going to say? That you were talking Amy’s ear off because you were head over heels for him? You weren’t emotionally prepared for that just yet!

Jisung stared at you intently, waiting for your response. You could almost see the wheels turning slowly in his head. Before you could come up with something to say, he interjected.

“Hang on—don’t tell me...”

Oh great. This is it. This is where you were going to die of embarrassment. Why couldn’t the ground just swallow you up already?

“It was that new makeup style I was experimenting with, wasn’t it?!” He cried, pointing accusingly with a finger. “(Y/N), when I asked for your opinion, even if you thought I looked like a clown, you should have told me, not your freaking fr—wait, why are you laughing?”

There was no way this guy was real. You burst into cackles. You were cackling so hard, there were tears in your eyes. An array of emotions swarmed through your head; frustration, disbelief, adoration...it was hard to pinpoint.

“I can’t believe,” You blurted between gasping breaths, “that I fell for such an idiot like you!”

“What?” All time stood still for Jisung. His brain ran at the speed of a sloth trying to piece together this new information into coherency.

“I like you, you big dumbass, more than a friend.” You just wiped your tears as you felt a heavy burden lift off of your shoulders. The care for rejection was a faraway thought at this point.

He sputtered. “I-I don’t understand. What does this have to do with that call with Amy?”

You let yourself sigh. The cat was already out of the bag. There was no point in hiding now.

“Amy knows.” You slowly admitted. “I tell her stuff when I get too frustrated about...us...”

You tried to gauge his expression as you spoke. It was hard to tell other than his silence urging you to go on. You averted your eyes. “It drives me insane when I see you everyday, and this feeling in my chest grows. I’d—I’d rather not stand the sight of you, then accept the fact that I can't have you.”

His eyes bore into yours in disbelief. “You’re not shitting me right now, right?”

Now that you had spilled everything from your system, the sass was back in your spirit. You rested your hands defiantly on your hips as you shoot him a look. “Bitch, I just poured my heart out to you. What will it take for you to believe me? A flipping kiss?”

The sound of his breath hitching reached your ears as you watched his deep brown eyes glaze over. He murmured lowly, “Yeah, I think that’d be a good idea.”

You gawked at him. That was not the reaction you were going for. Usually, he’d just make a joke out of everything.

“You’re serious?” You took a small step towards him to get a closer look at his face.

You could swear Jisung’s cheeks were dusted pink under the low light of the auditorium, his chest rising with quick shallow breaths.

You yelped in surprise as he tugged you into him, your hands landing on his pecs to steady yourself. “Just kiss me,” He grumbled huskily, his lips brushing lightly against your ears. The contact sent a rousing bout of electricity down your spine.

Fuck.

Like a plane on autopilot, your fingers slid from his chest onto his neck. Goosebumps formed under the wake of your fingertips. This had to be a dream. You vaguely processed yourself moistening your lips as you leaned in, eyelids fluttering close.

The first contact of his soft lips on yours felt like being touched by a fluffy cloud. Jisung’s erratic heartbeat thrummed against your own, and it gave you a little solace. You weren’t alone.

With a soft press against the warmth of his lips, you pulled yourself back. Jisung still had his eyes closed. You opened your mouth to speak only to shut up at the smoldering gaze he settled on you. Before you knew it, he was pulling you in again, eagerly drawing your lips together. A new fire blazed at the pit of your stomach.

You never imagined he was capable of this. Okay, that’s a lie. You totally imagined him taking you like this. But you needed to pinch yourself really hard to believe he was actually stealing your breath away like there was no tomorrow. The deep sensual pace he set was quickly clouding your mind. All you registered was the heated clash of skin and teeth.

When he finally let go, you were both gasping for air.

“You have no idea how long I’ve been wanting to do that.” He murmured, resting his forehead against yours. Whoop. There goes your heart.

“Couldn’t be as long as me” You simpered, biting your lower lip. “You want to, maybe, continue this conversation in the dorms? It’s getting late.”

“Right. Yeah, you’re right.” He let go of you, although not without a little reluctance. Swinging his backpack up from the floor onto his shoulders, he bowed dramatically. “After you, m’lady.”

You crinkled your nose at him. There was the Jisung you knew. You clasped your arms together and proceeded towards the exit. This was so not how you had expected your night to end. But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

A sudden reminder intruded your train of thought at the sight of the entrance.

Oh.

Your lips stretched into a guilty smile as you slowly reached to unbolt the doors, making Jisung stare at you in bewilderment. “You locked the doors?”

“Hey, a girl's gotta do what she’s gotta do. You kept running away like a little chicken.” You teased.

Jisung gasped at your side, his hand clutching his heart in mock indignation. “I was not!”

He promptly went off into a half-hearted self-defensive monologue, and you giggled at him. You were content to just listen to him drone on. You missed this. However, your smiled dropped in growing dread when you realised something.

“Uh, Jisung... I think the doors are jammed.”

BONUS

“Pay up, Grouchy.”

Minho groaned, but he handed a ten thousand won bill to a smug looking Amy nevertheless.

The performance had been a marvelling success. Your friends were excitedly making their back stage to congratulate you and your team, but stopped short when they caught sight of you engaged intimately in conversation.

You were closely tucked under Jisung’s arm, your own wrapped around his lithe waist, as he ducked down to your ear with a dopey grin stretching his lips. Your eyes sparkled at what he whispered, immediately drawing a flustered laugh out of you.

It wasn't hard to guess what had transpired since the last time they saw you.

Amy turned to Minho with a suggestive wiggle of her eyebrows. He instantly pulled a dramatic grimace in response, warning her, “Don’t—”

“I told you so!”

“Look, man. I honestly didn’t think that kid had it in him.”

“Honestly? Me neither.” She snorted. “But you’ve got to admit they’re pretty cute together.”

“...”

“Minho?”

“...Meh. My cats are cuter.”

“Minho!”

#friends to lovers #han jisung #han jisung fic #skz fluff #fanfiction #kpop fanfic #jisung x reader #han jisung x reader #non idol au #skz angst #humour #self insert #story #love story #kpop story #skz x reader #oneshot #kpop oneshots #han jisung oneshot #x reader oneshot #university au #kiss #lgbtqplus #lgbt representation

[no-droids]

Mercy, Sabotage, and Dead Space

(gif credit to @redwyyne-archive)

Part One of The Bet series

Pairing: Poe Dameron/Reader

Rating: Explicit

Word Count: 12.7K

Summary:

1. No sex.

2. No touching yourself.

3. No orgasms.

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

***

This.

This shit, right here.

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

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

But then you met… fucking Dameron.

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

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

But this?

This shit?  Right here?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Yep, there it is.  “Second of all—”

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

You… aren’t expecting that.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alright, no, wait—backtrack—

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Fuck.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

A false sense of…

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

… What?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Except, oddly, he doesn’t say much.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Shit.  Shitshitshit, did that actually work?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

And then everything goes dark.

No, literally.  The stars disappear.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

***

Stay tuned for part two coming soon!!

#poe x reader #poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #SMUTTTT #reader insert #star wars #fanfic #the formatting on this one is downright horrendous but im so mad that i cant even fix it right now so thatll have to come later im sorry

[suna-reversed]

Hello I came to request # 74) “Wow, I think you’re blushing even redder than the vibrator inside you.” from your nsfw prompt list. Where kenma tied us up with a vibrator(maybe other toys) and then left to do a stream and when he returns we are a overestimated mess and then he fucks us with the vibrant still in.

Post Timeskip! KENMA X F! READER// nsfw!!

warnings/tags- unprotected sex, role-play, overstimulation, nipple play, use of sex toys, light degradation, kenma calling the reader “bunny”

timeskip!spoilers

(art credit in picture)

- Kenma had always been big on role-play right from the first time you got intimate with each other. 

- So it was no new thing for you to surprise him every now and then dressed up in different costumes. 

- This time, you had dressed yourself in a set of black lace lingerie, black knee high socks with white stripes across the top and your personal favourite- black bunny ears that matched the little bunny design on the collar around your throat. 

- What you were not expecting as you walked into your shared bedroom, ready to surprise your boyfriend, was to be met with your own self on the camera screen, his own shock-filled eyes meeting yours through it. 

----

He was quick to turn the camera off, shutting off his live-stream that had at least a few thousand viewers. You stood there stunned, nervously fidgeting with your fingers as you gave him a guilty smile, 

“I- I thought you weren’t streaming today.”

Kenma didn’t reply, instead raking his eyes all over your body, reaching out a hand for you to grab so that he could pull you into his lap. His finger traced the outline of the bunny ears, sliding down your face to flick your nose lightly, making you smile. 

How could he be mad at you? 

Well, he wasn’t. At least not until he opened his phone, planning to send a quick text to his manager about the situation before he fucked you senseless. Instead, he found his stream comments flooded with people. Comments that seemed to get progressively worse. 

“Who would’ve thought gamer boy was into that freaky shit.”

“Damn, I’d never leave the bed if that’s what was waiting for me.”

“Bet I can fuck her better than him...what I wouldn't give to choke her.”

You saw a few of the comments too from where your head rested on his chest. You squeaked as the gentle hold around your throat tightened. Kenma putting his phone aside with force, growling a low, “Get on the bed now, bunny.” into your ear that immediately sent you scrambling up to go lay back on the mattress. You watched him pull back his hair with a tie as he walked over to the closet, bending down to pull out a box filled with objects you were way too familiar with. You hear him rumbling around but you don’t see what he’s gotten as he walks up to you with his hands behind his back. 

“Close your eyes.”

You do as you’re told, and soon after you feel him lift your head slightly to slide down a velvety fabric over your eyes, blinding you. Next, it’s your wrists that are cuffed up to the headboard. You can tell Kenma is in no hurry as he takes his time running his hands all over your body, making you squirm desperately as you feel a damp spot growing on your panties. 

“I’ve barely done anything and you’re already so fucking wet” Kenma says while clicking his tongue. You only writhe around more in response, whines falling from your mouth. 

You gasp as a sharp slap comes down on your lace-clad mound. 

“Good bunnies don’t make noises, do they?” 

You still your body, muffling a moan as he pinches your nipples. 

“Good girl.” He says while humming appreciatively. “But I still think you need a punishment for the mess you just caused.” 

Your body shakes out of both anticipation and fear as you nod your head rapidly. Before you can even think of what he’s going to do, the sound of fabric ripping is heard in the air as his hands tear off the flimsy lace of your bra. This time, you’re not able to contain a shriek as something cold and metal clamps down on both of your nipples. That only results in Kenma pulling on the chain connecting the metal clamps on your sensitive nubs.

“Such a disobedient slut. Maybe I should just let one of those turds in the comment section fuck you, huh? Fill you up with their disgusting seed over and again when they won’t even be making you cum once?”

You shook your head, tears of shame welling up in your eyes and now streaming down your face, 

“No-no daddy, I’m a good bunny, only your bunny.” You sniffed loudly before continuing, “Please fuck your bunny daddy...only need your cock, no one else’s.” 

Kenma swore the restraint inside him was an inch apart from snapping. Instead, he ran his fingers over your covered cunt, making a sweet moan fall from your mouth. His hand fell away and you felt him moving around on the bed, his hand coming back only to move your panties aside. You let out a squeal of surprise as you felt the familiar shape of a slender rubber vibrator put inside you. 

“Mhmm I’ll fill you up real nice bunny. But daddy’s still gotta finish his stream. You’ll be patient for him , won’t you?”

You couldn’t exactly figure out what he was planning, but it all clicked as you felt the buzzing sensation of the vibrator, making your juices drip out onto the sheets. You felt Kenma come close to your face, a hand incling your head again,

“Now as much as I’d like for all those fuckers to listen to who makes you scream, I’d much rather not be distracted by your moans while I play.”

That was the last thing he said before stuffing a gag into your mouth. You felt his weight push off the bed completely, the sound of his computer switching on ringing in your ears as your legs quivered with the sensations inside your cunt, your lack of sight making you hyper aware of the pressure around your nipples. You felt your high approaching, thrashing around on the bed as you heard Kenma start his stream, apologising for the “minor inconvenience”. The coil in the bottom of your stomach snapped at the same time he said, “No worries now though, I’ve taken care of it.”

---------

And that is how you found yourself 2 hours later, face stained with tears as tiny sobs left your mouth making spit drool out from around the gag. The sheets were dripping with your juices, your body jerking every time Kenma changed the intensity of the buzzing inside of you. You almost fainted from relief as you heard Kenma announcing the end of his stream.

You continued to sniff as you felt the bed dip next to you, a whine escaping from as you felt the buzzing stop, a hand coming to slide down your blindfold and unchaining your wrists as he brushed the hair out of your sweat covered forehead with the other. 

Kenma’s heart clenched as you looked up at him with puppy eyes. He pulled the gag from your mouth, strings of drool falling coming off along with it. He sighed, leaning down to kiss your forehead before asking, 

“What colour, bunny?”

It took your mess of a brain a second to comprehend his question. Still shaking, you mumbled out, “Green, daddy.”

You felt him smile against your forehead, before he pulled back, stripping himself off of his sweatshirt and grey pants as he got off the bed. Your eyes shot straight down to the bulging member underneath his boxers. 

Kenma got in between your legs, leaning forward to slide a finger underneath the collar on your throat, 

“Such a good girl for me. Just for me-” He said in between kisses along your neck, “Daddy thinks you deserve a reward.” 

“Please- please give me your cock daddy, need you so bad.” You cried out loud. 

And how could Kenma have said no to his precious little bunny? 

You threw your head back as you heard the sound of buzzing fill the air again at the same time you felt Kenma’s cock against your hole. 

“Think you can take it bunny?”

“Yes! Please stretch my cunt out daddy, just need to fee-”

You were cut off as the tip of Kenma’s thick girth entered you. You moaned at the burning stretch of your cunt, hands reaching up to tangle in his locks. You both moaned in unison as he bottomed out, hands coming up to grope your tits as he started thrusting his hips. 

“Fuck- you’re so tight- no one can fuck you as good as I do.”

You moaned in response, brain too fucked out to form an answer. Tears flowed freely from your eyes as he lifted one of your legs over his shoulder, his thrusts getting deeper at the new angle as he rutted into you with no mercy. 

“Cum around me bunny- wanna feel you gush on my cock c’mon.” Kenma said, hand going down to hastily rub your sensitive nub, groaning as he felt your cunt clench down on him. 

Already over-stimulated from your previous orgasms, you screamed, back arching into the mattress as you came undone once again for the nth time. Kenma continued to fuck you through your orgasm, finding his own release soon after as he painted your insides with his seed, collapsing on top of you. You felt your vision going blurry and eyes rolling back as you felt him pull himself and the vibrator out of your poor abused cunt. 

----------

Your eyes fluttered open at the feeling of water around your body,

“Hey baby, there you are.” You felt Kenma’s voice rumble through behind you as his hands massaged your shoulders gently. You let out a small “hey” in response while nuzzling further back into his chest. 

“Was I too rough?”

“Mhmm no, I think I might have to walk in on your streams more often.”

“Maybe I’ll fuck you while they watch the next time.”

“KENMA-”

——-

————-

Thanks to my favourite kenma kinnie @erenbae for helping me with this prompt🥰

#kenma hcs #kenma smut #haikyuu x reader #haikyuu headcanons #haikyuusmut #hq smut #hq tw #kenma kuzome #kenma x reader #kenma x y/n #kenma drabble #hq hcs #kuroo x reader #nekoma smut #nekoma x reader #kenma headcanons #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu angst #bokutosmut #ushijima smut

[sugar-petals]

sub!Yuzu | nsfw alphabet

🌹 NOTE ⇢ content for our fave figure skater, the legend himself. mr. yuzuru hanyu is 1000% dom candy and i’m here to honor it at length ⛸

— WORDS. 5k

tags + warnings. dom/sub dynamics, femdom!reader, role reversal hc, smut, kinks, cum play, spanking, sex toys, very freaky yuzu, kitten play, mdlb, crying kink, food play, prostate orgasms, bondage, some deeper stuff & angsty bits, asthma mention, aftercare

  A = Aftercare (what they’re like after sex)

Once the cat ears come off, who is Yuzuru Hanyu not to remain in character for a while. For the shits and giggles, and because it’s cozy. Once a catboy, always a catboy, it’s the law of the land. Curling up, kneading at you for the head pats and massages, you know the programme. 

Also: Yuzu is famously soft-spoken and always finds the right thing to say. So, stimulating conversation for the cooldown. This is literally so nice. He’s unafraid to reflect everything in detail, say what he preferred, what you could change up together, what he wants to try next. The afterglow is not just physical, as in you give him something to drink, it’s 70% verbal which is very important to him as a consistent habit.

Of course, not to forget: Always gotta have a Winnie Pooh plushie ready. He embraces it readily and, as we know him, does some roleplay right then and there. Yuzu, professional cutiepie he is, is the kinda sub who treats all plush and pillow stuff as alive and breathing. You as his domme are in on the play and also treat his things as holy as they are to him. That Yuzu lets you into that world is the biggest compliment you can possibly get. 

B = Body part (their favorite body part of theirs and also their partner’s)

We all know Yuzu’s godly ass and thighs. Or the staggering waist and beautiful black hair that makes him a total bombshell in his classic comb-back styles. His face is soft and expressive and so damn unique, his legs muscular and long, his back and tummy chiseled, the list goes on and on. Jesus, he has so many great features. All body parts a masterpiece. That are all capable of god-tier contortionism on top of that, gotta mention it in passing. Just so you know if you haven’t seen him bend his every limb into directions you wouldn’t believe are humanly possible. 

Interestingly though. If he chooses, Yuzu picks his feet: They are his most important instrument and weak spot. His ankles are where the magic happens. So, you taking care of them a little would mean the world to him, imagine a candle light massage. Not to worry, no-gross-alert. Yuzu has perfect and cute feet. That’s gonna be a Victorian moment, oh my god I saw his ankles. For his partner, short and simple: He likes a shoulder to lean on. He loves being touchy in general, all body parts are amazing to him. Being in a profession that’s all about the physics, Yuzuru knows about the wonders of the body.

C = Cum (anything to do with cum, basically)

Certified king of cumsluts, doesn’t even hesitate. The more, the merrier. If he’s not covered in sticky stuff, Yuzu would be underchallenged. It’s less about the taste, texture or any degradation, for him it’s the playing around with his tongue. Somebody wants his mouth preoccupied. Give the cat his milk. Feed him his own cum mixed with yours. He’s gonna lap at it and swallow.

Since Yuzu’s dream is a mommy domme baking him something, he just loves the smell of dough and hazelnuts and cinnamon and everything — you know what’s coming: Imagine the food play. Nuts indeed. Anything that even remotely looks like a creampie is something he wants to get his lips on. And Yuzu is not the type to be a foodie at all, let that sink in. Sexual-looking food is just too big a temptation, though. And you spoiling him that way... oh my. Surefire way to end up in bed right after. 

D = Dirty secret (pretty self-explanatory, a dirty secret of theirs)

Has a butt plug collection. Once almost went on the ice with one in. The more you know. Also— this guy is the kinda type fantasizing to get absolutely railed on a bed of plushies. He has troubles suggesting it to you because he doesn’t want them to get actually dirty. But the idea gets the two of you kind of horny. Sometimes, a thought is better as a fantasy than actually executing it. You can use it for riling up’s sake, whispering it to him during dirty talk. How you’ll bounce on him and ruin him and milk him while he’s splayed out so innocently on your bed. I smell corruption kink. 

Another secret Yuzu keeps is just how much he changed his mind about wanting his partner to control everything in bed. He grew up with a pre-defined ideal type of a cute, nice skater girl who’d let the reins very loosely around him, who he can speak Japanese to because he had problems with English, who is small and someone he will protect. It wasn’t something based on experience and trying things out: It was simply expected of him. People wanted the domineering Yuzuru on ice to be that way in private, and make use of his power, be a man, savior, boss. 

The reality being: He never felt truly as tough on the ice, nor was he gender-conforming in person. In fact, that is what he became famous for, and it reassured Yuzuru very often how people would accept and actually celebrate this side of him. Which is so refreshing, and a sight to see. The side that was dorky, clingy, childish, gorgeous, and cute has always been there, but now he embraces it more as his comfort place. He has to know what he’s doing in his skating programme and show competitive spirit to achieve his dreams, but that’s where it stops.

His former ideals are something people wanted to hear, it was an adaptation of the environment rather than thinking it through on his own. So, years later — oh boy have things changed. Yuzuru no longer defines his ideal type that way, saying whoever he likes is someone he’d be with. What was a fantasy template and filter is now gone and adapted to his newfound, own preferences. Yuzu is comfortably open-minded rather than being a copy to mainstream. He found fun in speaking English, opened up to the world at large, had more girls around him who he could befriend, grew more confident in his stature, and is well aware — turns out he’s the cute one. Who needs to be taken under a wing. He likes strong-minded girls and says if he had a wife, she’d dominate him. Yuzuru secretly wants her to be in charge entirely, she owns his body and soul. Not in daily life where things are just normal and everyone goes about their business. Sexually, where he surrenders instead, and is taken care of.

E = Experience (how experienced are they? do they know what they’re doing?)

The tale of an introvert. What he knows — he hides it well. Has eyefucked a whole lot of people and is the type to lust like mad from a far distance, and nobody will ever know. Crushes harder than peppercorns in a mill. If he loves someone, it lingers in his mind every split second of the day, may god have mercy on him. And if you know him: Yuzu aims too high to keep it light and easy and clumsy. He hates being an amateur, he’s terrified of starting out something. He dreads not knowing what to do, how exactly to behave, talk, touch, breathe, respond, negotiate, prepare. That’s a hundred percent like hell to him.

Ironically, he has a natural feeling for it and he’s literally amazing in bed, has a sense for social interaction is all the way cute with something valuable to say. But what he believes is something way different. Yuzuru is a diehard, nervous perfectionist. He can only think of it as a rated performance since his mind usually has to work that way to skate well. His esteem is on a knife edge depending on how well he thinks he does. So, the inevitable: He will shy away from sex altogether. He draws immense skating passion from staying celibate, in fact it’s his success secret, but it still eats him up from the inside and makes him frustrated beyond measure. Not even for the pleasure, since he’s so ambitious that’s almost forgotten about, but for being told he did well. 

That’s how much he believes sex is a drill and capability test. And it’s sad that he thinks it’s like his skating career, racking up points for the impossible things judges want and being in a deadlock when it comes to showing his artistic side. He feels thrown into cold water if he doesn’t know everything beforehand. If he ever works up the courage, which probably won’t happen, he will pay an expert to learn from rather than let something all over the place happen with a random person or even someone he might like. 

Yes, you heard that right. He’d rather see a sex worker than ‘mess up’ his first time according to his sky-high standards. So, Yuzu’s experience remains limited since he’s so 100% do or die, and so anxious, and so torn about social interaction, he doesn’t get how his peers can be playboys and get married and flirt with someone they like and all that. He sort of has an easier time with guys, but girls... he can’t approach. To top it off, he also feels like he’d burden his first time one somebody or embarrasses himself, so he will reject and avoid suitors. Those are usually not the people he crushes so hard on to begin with. It’s bound to be one-sided and he knows, so he will abstain and focus on career and use the cheers of his fans as a substitute.

Truth is, he feels helpless and distant from sex sometimes, especially with his practice-heavy lifestyle and hyper-smart mind, Yuzuru has an intelligence that exceeds what most people can grasp. He’s alone on the ice and Brian as a coach is often the only reference person who truly gets him, and leads him well without being controlling. But that’s professional life. Sexually, Yuzuru is metaphorically: coachless. He surely observed it well when Javier (the #1 ladies man, his opposite) was still active and a social butterfly helping him fit in, but Yuzu would always be worried about his extreme fame and spotless image when introduced to someone fangirling over him. He’d rather prefer someone who comes across as a mentor and solid, loyal-to-death person to look up to. So he would do anything to have someone benevolent like that. Most girls would expect him to be the sex god and expert, but he knows that’s only half of the story and based on his characters on the ice. Yuzu crafts these to counterbalance how he really is — withdrawn and indirect. 

Yuzu is extremely calculating and selective, he scans suitors well, protects his reputation, and is mortified of failure. So, he’d rather learn it by the book and from someone he’s not emotionally attached to. In a one-night stand that might also be the case, but he doesn’t know what to expect, and he’s absolutely terrified of sudden sexual vulnerability. He himself often says he values his own struggle between feeling so weak and being strong again 

Besides: He’d have problems squeezing hookups into his schedule and lifestyle, he’d have to cut down on things and create a double life. Plus, Yuzu is famously inept with social interaction up close, he flees the noise and unpredictability. So, it’s better to have a long-term partner. If he doesn’t know something yet, he has it down in one day like the single axel. Definitely counts on his partner teaching him.

F = Favorite position (this goes without saying)

We know Yuzu’s signature move is the lean-back Ina Bauer. So, whatever position allows for an arch is the real deal (cough, taking the strap — oh my god his ass is made for it). But anyway, he can pull off anything with that stellar flexibility and core strength. 

If I think about it. Yuzu might like sitting on your lap very much. I know it’s not a sex position, I mean it can be once his inner lapdancer awakens or you use a strap-on, I rather mean... just for some sweet moments and making out. But yeah: Fathom Yuzu gyrating on your like that. Not in an outright lascivious manner or Chippendales style. The Hanyu way, with embellishments and all the grace. This is gonna be a huge turn-on and perfect foreplay position.  

G = Goofy (are they more serious in the moment? are they humorous? etc.)

Not much to elaborate here: Yep, Yuzu is true goofball indeed. Really flustered and clumsy when eye-to-eye in missionary, and yet: He’s ultra serious towards the end, there’s gonna be an aggressive staredown before cumming. The feeling gets pretty intense, his duality between silly and ‘yeah, give it to me’ is no joke.

H = Hair (how well groomed are they? does the carpet match the drapes? etc.)

Would probably die from inflammation if he shaved clean under those tight suits and did all these chafe-heavy skating routines. Doesn’t have a lot of body hair to begin with, but for pits and pubes, it’s alive, wild, and decently long. Out of all people, Yuzu cares particularly about aesthetics, but in this case pragmatism will prevail. He doesn’t care too much about it either as long as it doesn’t get in the way of something. Having sex with Yuzu tends to be well um well all about a hundred types of friction so any stubble would be a bad idea.

I = Intimacy (how are they during the moment? the romantic aspect)

You haven’t seen a guy in love like that. It’s a figure skater thing for sure. Since he works to portray these sentiments on the ice daily, hardly anybody can play up feelings so delicately and palpably like Yuzuru. Emotion is what his entire career is built on. He knows how to express himself directly, appropriately, intimately. Couldn’t be any more romantic. Yuzu can’t go without it. 

Very passionate, ‘for your eyes only’ kind of atmosphere. Yes, he shows off on the ice, it’s his job (although of course, that word doesn’t really sum up what skating means to him). But private Yuzu is someone you can claim as yours. He will make it clear, he wants to belong to you, he’s yours, dedicated, devotion is the entire point. Less with a slant of what some subs like, very hands-on ownership of a mistress. It’s more emotional. He’s really attached and all smitten. Your private little haven is everything to him. 

Talking about little: Yuzu can be quite a pillow prince sometimes. At least when the initiative doesn’t go back and forth as it frequently does, you often alternate with suggestions and ways of tweaking an ongoing play session. You blindfold him or tie his wrists, He might be standard tired from practice or just fascinated to watch you work your magic on him. 

He also likes music to set the tone for intimacy, who’s surprised. Prepare: Yuzu likes dramatic classical music all the way. He’s probably one of the few people who can make it more than ‘classy’ and definitely more than cringe. He selects pieces very well. This is gonna be a practice template to cum together when the music reaches its peak. Makes the whole thing full of adrenaline.

J = Jack off (masturbation headcanon)

Lots of fun to him. Would beat it 24/7 if the ice wasn’t calling him. Drowns himself in lube. This guy’s me-time is so rated R, Cardi B would be inspired to remix WAP to wet ass penis as an anthem just for him. A dry dick is a ruined day for Yuzuru, as is a session without teasing his prostate in whatever way he currently fancies. Once he tried it, he never went back. The intensity knocking him out is something that Yuzu thinks about all the time. Strokes like a pro, does all these little moans, can do it forever, loves the feeling, chases the high. Adrenaline junkie on the ice? No different with his hand around his cock. 

Will masturbate everywhere in the house and has to really get his head in the game to make sure he won’t ruin any carpets. So, he always has at least two towels with him. In the kitchen, in front of the TV, in the shower, the bed. Watches his fair share of eclectic porn, he gets really desperate. Especially before you started dating, Yuzu would shut himself in until the lotion ran out. Can jack off to something romantic (he starts crying) or something extreme (he loves shocking himself and ). 

K = Kink (one or more of their kinks)

Very curious about sadomasochism. Googles a lot of things that make him hard during the day. Often jawdropped by his research, but once he tries things out with you, nothing can really shock him anymore. Absolutely wants to be collared, it’s his biggest fantasy. Another little secret he has, Yuzu is decked out in skating gloves, right. He wishes he could feel you wearing them, or he keeps them on for sex himself, the lacey transparent ones. Looks especially pretty when his wrists are tied so, major photograpy material. Oh yes, Yuzu likes the camera, he can work it. The guy is photogenic in any position and can strike any angle you want. Your phone background is a new Yuzu snapshot every week already, imagine your gallery, 5800 kinky pictures.  

L = Location (favorite places to do the do)

I’m gonna say it. The frozen lake out of town, late at night, condoms and lube with you. A quickie that will leave your genitals frozen. Yuzu might get stuck inside you because it’s -15 Celsius. Call that fantasy on ice. Jokes aside: Come on, Yuzu is the biggest ever hermit homebody. The couch will have a bunch of indents after your week-long fucking sessions after he comes home training. Also, at his desk while he does work for university. You ride him, Yuzu studies. Double the ambition. His dick is completely sore. The lake out of town thing might go down, but without sex. Just skating together under the stars, Yuzu doing amazing spins and spirals around you, very very romantic.

M = Motivation (what turns them on, gets them going)

Yuzu is a crazed Sagittarius. Have you seen these men? They just want it all. Must be the influence of Jupiter. Zeus was definitely vibing that way. And yes, Yuzu has borderline unhealthy gold medal thinking in bed. He wants to be not just good but damn good with pleasing you. If you don’t have a good time and head home without an orgasm, he’ll consider himself a failure. Yuzu won’t cut himself any slack there. You’d have a hard time changing his ways into something more chill and moderate. Instead, you will see the benefits of rolling with it once you see how improvement fuels him and does make sex really mindblowing.

N = No (something they wouldn’t do, turn offs)

Couldn’t do things like slapping you, spanking. Yuzu makes for a terrible daddy dom, it’d not suit him.

O = Oral (preference in giving or receiving, skill, etc.)

Cum-dripping oral mess, Yuzu is the brave kind. Totally into it, and can’t resist a good blowjob. Will act different afterwards, there’s a lot of erotic tension. “This evening again?” is what those eyes are saying.

P = Pace (are they fast and rough? slow and sensual? etc.)

Outstanding kinesthetic intelligence. Every inch of his body follows his intent, and yours if you have him take on certain ways of kneeling. Yuzu can do it all, whatever you want. Tantalizing, moderato, overwhelmingly fast. He can take it, he can portray it. And knows the value of a pause like a true connoisseur. Not just when he wants to prevent cumming early, also just because the moment is right. That’s why cockwarming is a staple, as well as you having him wait patiently for kisses. To top it off: If you give him a blowjob, building up the tension by doing nothing is damn effective. The ruined orgasms you’re gonna give him... delicious.

Everything’s gonna have nice transitions as well, no awkward climbing and rolling and tangling limbs. If he gets something from another room that you need, no slouching. The university course as good as the extracurricular activities. Being inconsistent with any subsidiary details? Not in the Hanyu household, he’s keeping it classy. Yuzu feels like if he makes the bridges to new positions even remotely messy, the feeling is killed and it’s as if he’d break character mid-skate. Although he’ll have to practice and refine and test a lot of things because he’s not super experienced and adapting to your own movements is an individualized thing to do, he’s a masterclass of quality, period.

Even when things get fast and heated, nothing feels off. Having that kind of body smartness also means: Yuzu learns by touch, whatever you do. He knows by the way you pull his hair what comes next. How much saliva drips off your tongue when you suck at his neck, he knows how hard you’ll to ravage him in five minutes. This guy observes things you aren’t even conscious of because his physical understanding is just so fine-tuned.

The sense of rhythm, and every skating programme of him will showcase that, unbeatable. Unless his mood is really impacted by something severe, your guy feels it in every bone. He’s an artist, after all, he listens to music all the time. Dissecting rhythms to turn them into movement is what his line of work is all about. The pace will always fit the mood. Everything is precise, but never crude. Instead, the way he moves is dictated by an inherent flow. With little accents that match right with any thrust, like putting his hands on your sides when you’re on top of him.

Q = Quickie (their opinions on quickies, how often, etc.)

Hit it Shakira: Whenever, wherever! He seemingly carries an entire condom factory with him. Or, to be more exact: At least three of them.

R = Risk (are they game to experiment? do they take risks? etc.)

This one’s a complicated case. Yuzu being reckless on the ice may or may not mirror in your private life. He might need some downtime, so bring out the soft domme stuff. No trial and error stuff, just going through a routine of things you love the most. On the other hand, he always gives it all. This guy’s endurance at your hands is amazing. Advanced kinds of BDSM he will not feel deterred from at all. Rough toys, anal hooks, sounding, whips, why not is Yuzu’s motto. But then again. He has such a confusing mix of innocence and feeling like he’s completely hardcore. You might end up experimenting a lot, but also not daring the leap sometimes because the mood is different. And then rather go for softer hours, where Yuzu will be all shy shy and more bursting with excitement than ever. A good, interesting mix is what I’m saying.

S = Stamina (how many rounds can they go for? how long do they last?)

Yuzuru, once he gets a bit of practice to gauge the situation... Viagra on two legs, absolute unexpected powerhouse. You might end up pondering to work out a little and go for a run because this guy is in a consistently outstanding shape to say the least. Olympic athletes are literally hard to fuck with. And since Yuzu is starfishing sometimes (which is very adorable), or he’s in bondage for some time, that presents a further problem: For a second round, he’s full of energy, while you already spent energy. So, you alternate with who’s active, and the other leans back entirely. He has to remind himself since his body is programmed for it: This is no contest — the point is feeling good.

You might ride him reverse cowgirl all the way while you watch TV, and after the overstimulation fades he will eat you out ad nauseam, full course slobbering, sweeping the whole menu. That way, it’s less about keeping up with him, which would be hard for most people not doing sports at his galactic level. He understands, Yuzu knows he’s not normal in that regard, you don’t have to worry. Some exercise still doesn’t hurt, just to further increase the quality of sex anyway.

Then again: Why go jogging and do some laps wasting valuable together time when Yuzu’s lap is the best workout? And running doesn’t guarantee your stamina in bed is perfect even if it does help. You rather wanna manage how to draw out the arousal. It’s a self-control thing, with the goal of having you match up in every aspect as good as you can. In which case, you can count on him to pull it off: Have you seen Yuzu doing jumps side by side with a bunch of female skaters? Copy paste. This guy knows how to synchronize with the ladies.

Something that has to be mentioned beside that, though. Yuzu has asthma since 2 years old, and it’s often a mind thing to him still these days. He doesn’t let it stop him from sleeping with you because as always, he’s not letting anything get in his way. He has learned to live and thrive with it. But you both have to mind the possibility of an attack, he prevents it with inhalers, and the mood plays a crucial role. Yuzu being comfortable and confident is so important to his breathing, and keeping a good rhythm rather than being chaotic in bed. So, you will plan most of your sexual activities rather than improvising. 

T = Toys (do they own toys? do they use them? on a partner or themselves?)

Would stuff an entire sex shop into his every available orifice. Yuzu is a toy freak, he wants to try everything. Motto: a new one every day. Well, almost. But he can afford it. Buys stuff he uses solely on himself, things you use on him, things he uses solo and you use on him, and as the cherry on top, every possible high end vibrator on the market for you. Any size, too. This bitch will browse through the latest innovations, prepare to get off. He’s obsessed with seeing you use it on yourself. Yuzu owns a separate phone just for videos of you buzzing your clit, and him fingering you for minutes and minutes. 

U = Unfair (how much they like to tease)

Extremely so. Loves to be a total brat only to get put into his place. He does it so you’ll pull the chin grab on him. He likes getting choked out as a punishment as well. Yuzu also tends to be very around the corner if you will when it comes to soft subbing, he lays over expecting cuddles but doesn’t say so. Buds his head against your chest, nuzzles, and so on. Lighter forms of teasing come to him very easily. Loves to prompt. Roughhousing, banter, favorite thing.

V = Volume (how loud they are, what sounds they make, etc.)

Moderately loud because his voice is very very light, but unsurprisingly — he’s just beautiful. What a nice tone. Gorgeous whimpering sounds. And when you go hard on him, voice cracks! And really heavy breathing. What’s gonna be the most striking though is his expressiveness. We know it from the ice and interviews, and he can really amp it up even further. No need for screaming, that face will speak the volumes.

W = Wild card (a random headcanon for the character)

You’ll be blessed with him if you have a huge crying kink. Yuzu definitely opens the waterworks every other week in bed. Happy tears, horny tears, relief tears, aftercare tears, orgasm tears, masochist tears, romantic tears, subspace tears, he has it all. He also begs for the type of pain that makes it stream down his face for minutes. He’s touchy-feely all the way and feels like he can really connect with you that way.

X = X-ray (let’s see what’s going on under those clothes)

His ass twitching is kind of a spectacle, but I don’t have to tell you, do I. Yuzu has muscles for the gods in there. So voluptuous, you can’t call it any other way. Big booty boyfriend, Jesus you can show him off, he loves it. Around the house, he will flaunt them big ole athlete buns in particular, acting like it’s unintended. Um, Yuzu, those are joggings. Smack it, he is sure to moan. 

And may I respectfully mention as well — this guy has some major big ass balls figuratively and literally. How else would someone be motivated to jump a triple axel like it’s nothing. Not kidding, they’re big and round and ugh. His love for tight pants doesn’t help. He knows what your eyes like and dresses just to flex the goods. Screams for more spanking and pinching if you ask me. Yuzu is definitely serving it. Well-endowed, you lucky girl.

Y = Yearning (how high is their sex drive?)

Mega horny, ready when you are. On a scale from zero to hundred? Breaching into the 90 percent right there. Yuzu’s hormones are literally insane. On paper he’s 26, but his dick wants the 18th birthday party. Jesus is he gonna be clingy when he’s in the mood. All wrapped around you in a backhug in the kitchen or when you iron a costume of his, and that’s sexy of him. He’s not gonna hide what’s filling out those sweatpants. He’ll desperately grind up against you like it’s Christmas.

Paired with his puppy eyes and little “Do you have some time... I’ll iron this tomorrow” — instant pounce. He’s admittedly a bit hard to keep up with sometimes, though. The reason: With that level of exercise, he has major pent-up energy. That machine is definitely running. Heavy sports changes your hormones, nervous system, and especially blood flow. Now take that to the scale of his performances and regimens? That equals a firework of horny. No wonder he masturbates all the time.

Z = Zzz (how quickly they fall asleep afterwards)

Takes some time. He cools down, sweats it out, chugs water. However, don’t underestimate how tired Yuzu can already be. His daily routines and competitions have a toll on him. Ironically, he’s not a deep sleeper, however. Yuzu might toss and turn and have sudden energy bursts, or ideas, or gets hungry. So, he needs his plushies, he needs a weighted blanket, warm pajamas, a hot cup of his favorite warm drink, a light snack, and you by his side. Spooning him excessively and sometimes even humming to him. Yuzu looks like a certified angel on his pillow, his well-deserved rest from everything is so important, too.

NOTE - hope i could indulge you, thank you for reading!

© 2017-2021 submissive-bangtan. all rights reserved. no reposts allowed. depictions fictional.

#yuzuru hanyu #figure skating #yuzuru hanyu smut #yuzuru hanyu smut alphabet #yuzuru hanyu x reader #sub!yuzuru hanyu #sub!yuzu #dom!reader #fs #smut alphabet #smut abc #smut a-z

[rkived]

━ CHASING PAVEMENTS 04 │ JJK

↳ PAIRING: dad!jk/married!jk/bff!jk x reader 

↳ GENRE/TAGS: f2l, angst, unrequited feelings, cheating, future smut

↳ WARNINGS: (for this chapter) angst as per usual what’s new, jk is sad, reader is sad, sunhi is sad, everyone’s just SAD

↳ RATING: (for this chapter) PG

↳ WORD COUNT: 4k 

↳ SYNOPSIS: Jungkook’s been feeling a little weird lately. Maybe it’s got something to do with his crumbling marriage and the way you seem to care for his daughter more than his own wife.

↳ A/N: ehem let’s pretend like i didn’t ghost this story for like half a year aha i’ve written more than this for cp but i decided to just divide it and leave the juicy stuff for the last chapter !! sorry for making u wait so long </3 anyway hope u enjoy still n i’ll see u in a couple months for the final chapter of cp!! (i’m jking…..or am i?)

01 02 03 04 05 (coming soon)

Minji thinks you’re starting to get better. 

Well, she hopes you are because it’s been two months since you broke the news on her and anyone would think that’d it be long forgotten by now. She tries to stop as often as she can to check up on you, even though you assure her that you’re fine and that a simple text would suffice instead of having her come over every day in between. 

Which is why she’s unsure if giving you the invitation Jungkook had handed her about two weeks ago was a good idea, considering that it’s been a few days since you had last even mentioned him to her like you usually did before. In fact, today you look like you’re at peace for the very first time.

‘‘I did yoga!’’ You explain when she mentions that you look different, ‘‘I still can’t face going back to Namjoon’s class, but I remember a ton of positions he taught us!’’ 

Minji has to force herself to smile, her hand lingers inside the purse she’s carrying as her fingers fiddle with the cardstock paper waiting patiently to be handed. 

‘‘And then I stopped for some yogurt at the place down the─’’

‘‘I need to give this to you,’’ Minji stops your ramble and you’re taken aback by how urgent her voice sounds, very unlike her. ‘‘I promised I’d get this to you, so…’’ 

You’re about to ask her what she’s on about when she abruptly hands what you could make out to be a colorful piece of paper. Your eyebrows furrowed at the sight, completely confused until it suddenly hit you what it is that your friend’s talking about.

‘‘How did you─?’’ 

Minji gives you half a smile and shakes her hand so you can take the card instead of just staring at it, ‘‘Just─take it.’’

Your hand reaches out to grab it from her and your eyes quickly focus on the unicorn and sparkles themed birthday invite. It reads that it’s Sunhi’s birthday and that you are invited! You recognize the handwriting that filled the party’s information details, you always thought he had really nice penmanship. 

‘‘I think you should go,’’ Minji’s voice sounds like she’s faraway, but she’s just a few feet away from you, ‘‘for Sunhi.’’ 

You’re still staring at the invitation, memorizing every single detail. There’s so many unicorns, when did she start liking the mythical creature? She had never mentioned a liking towards them to you ever. You assume it must’ve happened during these few months of your absence.

How many moments have you missed? How many unanswered questions must Sunhi have by now? How many new toys has she had to wait to show you? How many kindergarten stories has she been saving to tell you? 

You’ve been counting. Sixty days have passed since you last saw Sunhi. It’s been seven Fridays since you last had her in your arms. 

Sixty days and seven Fridays since you kissed Jungkook. Fifty-nine days since you blocked him. 

Minji is still waiting for any sort of reaction from you. You’re stoically analyzing the piece of paper and she wonders what is it that you’re thinking or feeling. Is it good, bad or all in one? Whatever it is, her small deed is done. 

‘‘Y/N?’’ She calls out, you slowly nod and take your eyes from the invitation from the first time since she gave it to you. ‘‘Do you mind if I go? I have some stuff to─’’

A small gasp escapes your lips, ‘‘Yes Minji, of course!’’ Your friend smiles slightly and you proceed to escort her out your apartment. She actually doesn’t have anything to do, but she thinks it’s best if you get some space to take everything in. 

Minji notices how you’re still holding on to the birthday invite and she has to suppress a chuckle because she knows you’re most likely doing this absentmindedly. 

Before you’re able to thank her for coming, she stops you to say one last thing. ‘‘If you don’t want to go, then don’t,’’ she begins and your eyebrows raise at your friend’s comment. ‘‘Whatever it is that you decide on doing, I’ll support you either way,’’ Minji offers you a genuine smile and you can’t help but hug her tightly.

You’re alone again. Loneliness has come in waves as of lately. You’ve lived alone for years now, you’re used to being the only person present in your apartment ─ but that fact hasn’t felt more obvious than since you shunned Jungkook out. 

Good days eventually turn sour. The times where it seems like you can go on about your life without thinking about him and what he might be up to quickly change because your mind makes you feel bad about feeling good. 

Why did you cut him off knowing his daughter idolizes you like no other? Why did you selfishly decide to block him when you could’ve just talked it out? Why didn’t you stop him that night if you knew things would change between you two? Why did you let him kiss you knowing it was going to hurt in the end?

You know Sunhi’s fourth birthday is coming up. It’s one of those dates you can’t simply forget, it comes naturally to you. You had settled with the idea that you weren’t going to be invited this time around, it would’ve been okay since you think it’s what you deserve anyway. If Jungkook had taken you off the guest list, he was in his total right to do so. 

You want to be mad at him right now.

Why would he invite you? Why couldn’t he just leave things the way they were? You wish you were angry, but you’re not. You feel slightly comforted with the fact that he had decided to include you even with everything that went down. In fact, not inviting you would’ve been selfish knowing that Sunhi must want you there. 

And if the invitation wasn’t enough of a sign that you should go, two days ago you got an email that the gift you had preordered for Sunhi some time ago was on its way to your place. Just in time for her birthday party. 

That’s life for you. 

You’re quick to remind yourself of Minji’s last words to you. You’re not obligated to go and if you don’t want to, then you don’t have to. But you’d be lying if you said that because you really want to go, but there’s still some things that are holding you back. Your brain starts breaking down the pros and cons of going. 

The pros: You’d get to see Sunhi again, who you missed terribly and a tiny part of you was wishing that she didn’t hate you for suddenly leaving. It’s too much to ask for, but you do hope that Jungkook had come up with something instead of telling her upfront that you had left. 

The cons: You’d have to see Jungkook. Having to face the awkwardness of knowing you had blocked his number, prohibiting him from contacting you and discussing what happened like adults would do. 

Oh, and you’d see Jiwoo too and pretend like you didn’t have any romantic feelings for her husband. 

Whatever decision it is, you’d only have two days to decide.

Jungkook smiled warmly as he looked at Sunhi twirling in her green and purple dress in front of the long length mirror in his bedroom. Ever since he got the garment in the mail, he had to hide it from her curious hands because if it were up to her she’d be wearing it day and night. 

‘‘Daddy, I look so cute!’’ Sunhi said with an excited tone, hopping in her place. The tull of her skirt followed her movements, making the glittery details sparkle brightly caused by the natural sunlight slipping through the curtain cracks. 

He chuckled, ‘‘You do, Pumpkin, but you need to settle down.’’ Jungkook placed his hands on her tiny shoulders, making his daughter’s bouncing cease. ‘‘You gotta be fully energized for the party, alright?’’ She nodded quickly, but he could still feel the excitement radiate from her. 

‘‘Gramma will do my braid, daddy.’’ Sunhi let him know once she noticed her father take a brush in his hand. The little girl much rather have her hair tangled in knots than having him attempt to do any sort of hairstyles on her. 

Jungkook pouts, but nods understanding. He’s thankful that his parents had made the trip from Busan this year. He knows his mother knew he would have a hard time setting everything up by himself this time around. His parents would normally miss Sunhi’s parties due to the distance, but he’d make it up to them by visiting the following weekend and doing a smaller gathering at their house instead. 

Things feel different. One could say that this time, everything is exactly where it should be. Sunhi’s growing older, his parents are here and not far away like usual, Jiwoo’s no longer in the picture, he’s picking back up the things that used to make him happy. There’s just a missing piece that doesn’t allow him to declare the puzzle’s finished.

And his daughter hasn’t really been helpful in allowing him to forget about it either. 

‘‘Daddy, is Auntie Y/N going to come?’’ She asked for what seemed the thousandth time that week alone. The younger girl only wanted to make sure you’re coming even though her father had reassured her that you might be making an appearance. 

Jungkook hummed, pursing his lips together, ‘‘Well, I don’t know if Auntie Y/N will manage to catch her flight in time for your party, but hopefully she’ll come,’’ he painfully lied and Sunhi nodded with a pout, she was hoping she’d get a different answer this time around, but still settles with her father’s explanation. 

Ever since you left, it had been part of her daily routine to ask about you and your whereabouts. Jungkook hated lying to his daughter, but he knew that even if he were to explain the ending of your friendship, she wouldn’t be able to understand. He had foolishly hoped that after telling her, repeatedly, that you had been out of the country because of your job, Sunhi would get the clue that you showing up at her birthday party was very unlikely. 

He can’t blame her because he’s also been hoping that you’ll show up for whatever reason. Jungkook’s aware that Minji had made no promises of you attending, but that little bit of faith he still had, clung onto you tightly. 

He’s let go of so many things recently, but he refuses to add you to that painful list. 

‘‘I miss Auntie Y/N,’’ Sunhi mumbled to herself, but Jungkook heard her clearly and his heart shattered at the longing in his daughter’s voice.

That’s why he’s relieved that she’s now running around the yard with her friends from the kindergarten she attends, screaming in glee as they all chase each other around the grass. The PinkFong playlist he had put together earlier that week has been a hit with the children, who danced and sang along to the lyrics; although some parents might’ve gotten tired of hearing the infantile music after a while. Jungkook himself is part of the people who much rather listen to something else, but it’s worth it if it means he catches Sunhi humming along to the tunes every once in a while. 

Having to entertain the parents has taken his mind off of knowing you’re not there. The party started two hours ago and you’re never late for anything, especially his daughter’s birthday celebrations. He’s settling with the idea that you’re no longer coming while he dabbles in serving food and refilling drinks, all the while having to make conversation with the parents of the invited kids. 

He can feel just how bad they feel for him, the word’s gotten around the PTA committee that he’s in the process of divorcing while taking full custody of his daughter.

‘‘Jungkook, how are you doing?’’ One of the invited moms asked him with a tactful tone, accompanied by a gentle smile that made him feel like a child for a mere moment. With a smile that could put anyone’s worries at ease, Jungkook assured her ─and the rest of the worrying mothers─ that he was doing just fine. 

It’s Sunhi’s day, it’s her party, a few more hours and you can cry all about it when she’s sleeping, had become his mantra as the party goes on.

‘‘What’s with the long face?’’ His mother suddenly asks him after he finishes placing the candles on Sunhi’s unicorn themed cake. 

Jungkook furrows his brows, ‘‘The unicorn’s face looks pretty alright to me,’’ he comments looking at the fondant shaped mythical creature at the top of the cake. 

Mrs. Jeon rolls her eyes, shaking her head slightly at his son’s obliviousness, ‘‘I’m talking about your long face. Is everything alright?’’ She asks in genuine concern, making him sigh as he scratches the back of his neck. ‘‘It’s not because of Jiwoo, right?’’ The woman cautiously asks, afraid the mention of her son’s ex partner might be too sensitive.

The news of the divorce had surprised his parents, but they weren’t completely heartbroken about it. They had known her for years, but it had never been a close relationship at that. His mother had made a couple of comments here and there before concerning his ex partner’s behavior, but were always overlooked by Jungkook.  

Jungkook’s eyebrows raise in surprise and he quickly shakes his head no, ‘‘I’m fine, mom. I’m just kinda tired.’’ 

For someone who hates lying, he’s been doing it a lot recently. 

His mother doesn’t seem so sure about his answer, but decides not to interrogate him any further since she knows her son has been dealing with too much recently and she didn’t want to add her nagging to the list. 

Eventually the party guests all sing happy birthday to Sunhi as she sits behind her cake clapping alongside them, mumbling the famous song as she waits for everyone to finish so she can blow the four candles out and make a wish. She closes her eyes with force, putting her hands together as the guests watch her silently mouth words out. 

‘‘What did you wish for, Sunhi?’’ One of the kids excitedly asks her, fingers curling around her arm as he waits for her to answer. 

Sunhi hmphs and turns her face away from him, ‘‘If I say it out loud it won’t come true!’’ 

Jungkook can only hope his daughter had asked for something he’s able to buy. The newest Barbie doll, a trip to the zoo, that pretty tutu she saw at the store. Anything that is at arm’s reach from him to give her. But Jungkook knows his daughter all too well, those things don’t really matter to her right now. 

Sunhi’s wish is something he can’t obtain ─ someone that’s no longer a call away from him. His daughter doesn’t know, but he’s wished for the same thing too. 

You to come back. 

The small pieces of confetti on the ground, paper decorations pasted on the wall and hanging from the ceiling of the house are enough to give away that a party had happened the day before, and that someone had been too tired by the end of it to even attempt to clean up. 

Even the thought of having to deal with all of the mess that his living room currently looks like is already making Jungkook regret not accepting his mother’s willingness to help after the party had ended yesterday, assuring her that she had done enough that day and that it was only fair he took care of the cleaning. 

Sunhi’s birthday had gone smoothly for the most part.

And as Jungkook scrolls through his phone’s gallery, smiling warmly at the small clips he managed to capture of his gleeful daughter running around the yard with her friends and the multitude of pictures his mother took of her blowing the candles of the cake out, granted, majority of them blurry, he is reminded that, although the party had been a success, the aftermath hadn’t been as pretty.

The party was over when he started hearing the first goodbyes and thankful comments of the parents for inviting them over, wishing Sunhi a final happy birthday before they took their sleepy kids in their arms. He had hoped his daughter would be drained too, despite the amount of sugar she had a few hours before. 

‘‘Auntie Y/N didn’t come.’’ Sunhi had stated, a pout on her trembling lips as she looked up at her tired father. ‘‘Why didn’t she come?’’ She asked in genuine curiosity as her eyes started glossing with tears.

Jungkook sighed, ‘‘Pumpkin, I told you she’s not in town. I’m sorry she─’’ It didn’t matter what excuse he had given her, the waterworks had begun. He hadn’t seen his daughter cry like that in a long time and for a moment, he didn’t know what to do to get her to stop. 

Even if he tried to coax her with distractions, like the number of gifts she had received from the guests or telling her he’d let her have another slice of cake if she stopped crying. He knew that what his daughter wanted wasn’t toys or food. She wanted you. And as much as Jungkook wants you just as much, he’s lost on ways to make you come back. 

Sunhi cried for what seemed like hours, his parents had even tried to cheer the little girl up by promising to take her to their house the very next morning for the rest of the weekend, to which she merely nodded as she fell asleep from exhaustion on her father’s chest. 

He envied her as he remained awake for most of the night, tears streaming down his face as guilt ate him away for his daughter’s heartbreak. 

It’s his fault after all. 

Jungkook isn’t upset you didn’t show up, you didn’t have to. Not even Sunhi could make you come back. Selfishly kissing you that night had changed the course of your relationship forever and that meant that his daughter would have to pay for his wrongdoings. 

With the absence of Sunhi, he’s reminded of just how big his house feels when he’s by himself. Ever since Jiwoo moved out, the only company he’s had is that of his daughter and it’s more than enough. With her dancing around the hallways and singing songs to the top of her lungs, Jungkook doesn’t feel as lonely.

He must’ve missed the knocking at the door or the ringing doorbell ─if there even was one─ because of the earphones he had on while he swept the confetti paper scattered on the hardwood floor of his home because by the time he opens his door to get a run around the neighborhood, he notices there’s a gift placed in his front doorstep. 

Jungkook’s brows furrow with confusion, unsure of why it was there in the first place. He’s sure Sunhi had opened all of her gifts last night, lazily and not very excited about them after her big cry, but she had made sure to leave them all unwrapped.

The medium-sized box is wrapped with a white and pink polka-dot paper, a cute golden ribbon placed right in the middle of it. Jungkook picks it up, bringing it closer for better inspection. Maybe it was from one of the kids that couldn’t make it? Although, they could’ve just gave it to Sunhi when they saw her at school again.

His eyes widen and his heartbeat races up when he reads the sticker tag with the name of the person responsible for the gift. 

‘‘To: Sunhi ♡

From: Auntie Y/N’’

His eyes scan the tag over and over again, just to make sure he’s reading the name correctly. When he manages to take his attention away from it, he looks around the street in hopes that he’d find you. 

How long has this been out here? Could he have caught a glimpse of you had he been less distracted? 

Although it feels wrong to open his daughter’s gift without her consent, he feels the urgent need to peek at what’s inside. His mind even tries to reason with himself, telling him it’s probably only a doll or a clothing item, like the other gifts Sunhi had received from the birthday guests yesterday. 

With a click of his tongue, he forgoes doing the right thing and tells himself that he’ll just wrap the gift again before Sunhi comes back from his parent’s house. 

The cute wrapping paper is thrown over his shoulder carelessly as he quickly unveils a white cardboard box, tilting his head slightly at what could possibly be inside. When he takes the top off, a soft gasp escapes his lips. 

A pink and white digital camera aimed for children lies inside, there’s decorative paper placed around it and a note inside. Jungkook swallows the lump in his throat, taking it delicately in his hand as he reads the words written in the familiar handwriting that hasn’t changed from all those years back in college. 

‘‘Happy 4th birthday, Sunhi! Since you’re growing older, I wanted to gift you something different this year around. Your daddy loves taking videos and I thought you should start doing it too, maybe he’ll pick his camera back up again haha. I’m sorry I couldn’t be there to see you blow your candles out, I hope all your wishes come true! I love you and miss you so much, 

-Auntie Y/N’’

Jungkook blinks back the tears that had formed in the corners of his eyes. He places the note back inside the box and breathes in deeply, exhaling slowly as he stares at the gift. No one but you could come up with an idea like this. It hurts him, but he smiles slightly at your thoughtfulness. 

A different feeling arises inside him as he holds the gift in his hand, looking at it like this is the sign he had been sent from above. The last thread of his string of faith. He doesn’t even think twice, placing the gift gently inside and rushing to step outside to close the door. 

He’ll go on that run, just not around his neighborhood. 

As he runs past rows of houses and stores, the voice inside his head tries to tell him that he should think rationally. There’s a reason why you didn’t show up yesterday and another for you dropping the gift in front of his house without a sound. You don’t want to see him and yet he’s running straight towards you even if he knows this is hopeless. 

He manages to shut that voice off as he maintains his rapid pace, rushing past the rows of buildings he’s familiar with and the street names he’s memorized by now. It all feels so different when he’s not behind the wheel, he usually always has to depend on his GPS to help him reach places. Your address, though, is one he proudly knows by heart. 

As Jungkook stands outside your apartment building, he stares at it with the sound of his heart drumming inside his ears. Catching his breath, he’s reminded of the many times these past few months he’s been here, with Sunhi fast asleep in her car seat at the back. 

He always pictured going up, knocking at your door, and begging for forgiveness, all for you to turn him down in the end with a gut-wrenching I don’t want you in my life anymore and a door closing on his face. That’s why he always drove away, deciding that uncertainty is better than hearing you reject him.

This time, though, nervous and unsure as he usually is when he comes here, Jungkook breathes in deep and ignores the familiar knot formed inside his stomach. 

He decides that uncertainty isn’t a feeling he wishes upon you.

#heartsforbts #bangtanhq #btswritingcafe #btswriterscollective #btsghostie #jungkook fic #jungkook angst #jungkook fanfic #jungkook smut #jungkook scenario #jungkook fluff #jungkook imagine

[gangrenados]

YOOOOOOOO THE HAIRY JASON = 🖤🖤🖤🖤

the man deserves some love tbh.

dc watch out cause i’m coming for u if u continue to keep him in captivity.

I must admit that I'm a little bit too much in love with this concept, like I never thought hairy men were that nice, but goddamn this kinda changed my mind lol AND YES Jason deserves so much love 😫😫

Anyway, I had this in my draft and decided to add the concept, well, I wrote this every time I was bored, so maybe it's not that great.

thanks to @imagines-fluff-yandere-smut for this great ass concept, girl keep up your horny thoughts, I love them 😤😤💕💕💕!!

Warning: Uh kinda smutty, a blowjob and a lot of slurs??

(L/n): your last name

You have no idea of how much I love that gif 👉🏽👈🏽

The soft sound of the tv echoing in the background alongside with the lulling murmuring of the city, were the only thing that was keeping in touch with the reality you were set on: living on a rather small apartment setted in the middle of one of the most tumoltous cities in the world.

Was it comfortable? surely not, but the company was greatly accepted. Besides this was just transient point in your life.

You stirred closer to your lover with a soft yawn, scaping from the cold that Gotham rainy nights always provided and being dealighted welcomed by a side hug of his right arm that quickly fell limp beside your shoulder.

You took the dare to rest your head on his chest, he didn't moved or said anything, staying in the same position with his arm behind his head as the other is around you, but with the slight difference that his lips were forming a little side smile.

Taking that small gesture as a green light, you kept going with your intrusion. You dragged your fingers  down town his torso, wandering through his abs before finally setting just above the hem of his boxers.

You caressed his skin softly, just the tender touch of your fingers before your nails ran up and down his skin, leaving a nice ticklish sensation all over Jason's body, to finally play gently in the hairs of his happy trail.

It didn't take long before your let your hand go lower, and between your innocent caress and the small talk of the show going on, you brushed his crotch lightly. However, that was more than enough to peek your boyfriend's attention.

"Are you trying to get me horny, doll?" his hoarse voice made you giggle. Trapped in the middle of you act and you couldn’t but offer a playful smile once you noticed those beautiful blue eyes looking down at you.

“Maybe...” you mumbled trying to appear innocent while your hands were still moving up and down his member in a gently, but firm maner. Jason arched his eyebrows, scoffing at your words. “Is it working?

You let out a yelp as Jason pulled you over him like nothing. It might soud crazy, but the way he stares at you makes your insides light up in pure fire as your heart speeds up for a moment.

So now your mind can only focus on the way his big hands were caressing your hips, daring to tugg at the waistband of your panties and to  run down those calloused fingers a little bit too close of your inner thighs.

Jason looks so beautilf underneath you and then his words makes you pay attention at what you had provoked.  "I think you gotta work harder."

Between kisses you moved to his neck, nibbling onto the soft skin and sucking lightly as you keep grinding  your ass on his clothed cock. Jason wanted more, you could sense this by the way his hands were pressing you against his pelvic, a way to prevent you to go elsewhere.

 Jason’s hips bucked against  yours, his hands still resting on your arse as he let his head fall down on his pillow. ”Is this enough?" You smiles against his skin, giving a small kiss with your swollen lips and Jason just nods.

"You won." His raspy voice sends shivers downs your spine." I have a boner and I would pretty much like to fuck you right now, congratulations!”

"Nice!" You say as you grab his face between your hands and give him a peck, Jason looks up to you with one of those heart melting smile he keeps for moments when your cuteness is about to give him a heart attack.

So you go down, giving short kisses across his abdomen and tracing his skin with your nails. As you reach his boxers you give a sweet kiss to his clothed cock and without taking your eyes off of Jason while tugging down those black boxes and he can't help but caress your head lovingly.

You spit on your hand quickly before you take his hard dick in your hand and start to pump him at a slow pace.

The contact makes him shiver and Jason mind is starts to fog the instant you take him in your mouth and you your tongue swirl around the shaft.

Jason pants as you bob your head up and down, sucking at his hard cock while your hand pump what you can't fit in your mouth.

His whimpers are music to your ears and seeing his face contorts in pleasure is making the coil in your belly tighten. It's nice to be able to have this view, but you're more focused on keeping up with the work.

"Fuck" Jason says as he sinks deeper in his pleasure. One of his hands goes to your head and grabs your hair, he doesn't move whatsoever. "Just like that! You're so good to me, babe."

Everything is going so nice, there's nothing better than receiving head after a hard week of work and Jason's state of mind is more than enough proof of this. The wet sounds mixed with Jason’s moans opaque the long forgotten sitcom that was still being played.

And moment like this make Gotham nights more berable, just the two of you enjoying each others bodies with the very welcoming bonus of being in love.

However, the euphoria is quickly cut off as the  annoying sound of the doorbell comes into scene; at first you don't stop and Jason is thankful because of it, but the person waiting at the other side of the apartment isn't as glad. The ring of the doorbell sounds acute in your ears, making the task of ignore it more difficult than you thought.

"(L/N) I am here, open up" the deep and annoying voice of your landlord fills the air and your groan in frustration.

The cold hits Jason's dick as you take him of off your mouth. "(Y/N), doll, don't leave me like this."

"Sorry, I forgot I called my landlord for the issue with the water." you say with a guilty smile, however,  seeing you kiss the tip of his cock doesn't make Jason feel any better.

"Are you busy, (y/n)? I can come another time" your landlord suggest and Jason flashes a grin.

"Problem resolved." He says a little bit too excited as he rest his weight down on his elbows. "Now where were we?"

"Jay no." you shook your head before getting up on your feet.

"He said he can come  later!"

"But that will mean another month carrying water buckets to take a shower! " Jason's mind pops up with an idea, but before he can say you cut him off." And no, I can't keep going to your house any time I have a problem, Jay!"

You can't help but giggle at his pouted lips, it's always a cute view seeing the so feared Red Hood whining over you. "You can! You know I don't have a problem with that." The way he talks so passionately falls flat once he notices that you're not going to back down.

"I didn't even got to show you how much I love you" Jason groans and just roll your eyes playfully at him. ” I want to fuck you until you’re scraming my name so the whole building will know who you belong to.”

"That reminds me that they're at the verge of causing a riot if they hear us again" you chuckle, putting aside Jason's attempts as reach up to him and leave a chaste kiss on his cheek.

"We will finish this as soon as the landlord goes. That's a promise " You wink at him before get of him to head towards the bathroom to brush your teeth quickly.

"Fucking cockblock" Jason ushes under his breath and you chuckle as you go to meet with the imapatient man at the other side of your apartment.

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