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starrybouquet · 4 months

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20 questions for fic writers

tagged several weeks ago by @doodledrawreblogs - thanks cy! and sorry this is late lol

1. how many works do you have on Ao3? counting drabbles, 77 works!

2. what's your total Ao3 word count? 127,611 (yes, most of the works are oneshots)

3. what fandoms do you write for? I have AO3 stuff for Stargate SG-1, NCIS, Top Gun, and RPF!

4. what are your top five fics by kudos?

I thought this would just be all the multichaps I've written (or started) but I guess there's something to be said for older stuff because it's actually all Stargate! I suspect penny!fic will eventually appear on here if I ever get off my butt and finish it

In All Duty and Service (T, Stargate, S/J, 13k)

4am (G, Stargate, S/J, 2.4k)

for here I am sitting in my tin can (strike him down) (G, icemav, 7k) - 964 kudos

and ease my mind (G, icemav, 533) - 947 kudos

so put me where I belong (G, mavdad, 3k) - 853 kudos

5. do you respond to comments? Originally, I responded to every comment. Then I started getting the inevitable daily/weekly "please update" or "update" or "are you going to finish this??" comments and now I don't respond to every comment. If your comment says something nice, though, I'll do my best to respond to it eventually!

6. What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending? Uhh...nothing yet, I think? I'm really way worse about saccharine-sweet, syrupy, TERRIBLY FLUFFY endings.

7. What’s the fic you wrote with the happiest ending? I wrote a 200-word ficlet that is literally only the happy ending! Just Like in the Movies

8. Do you get hate on fics? Not yet, but all my more ~controversial~ stuff is safely in my GDrive still, so....*shrugs* all my current AO3 stuff is pretty bland.

9. Do you write smut? If so, what kind? Nope. Every year I threaten to do it and then I just get all embarrassed about it and never share anything.

10. Do you write crossovers? What’s the craziest one you’ve written? Not yet, but if I had a good idea for one I'd absolutely write it!

11. Have you ever had a fic stolen? Stealing Cy's answer for this because it's so true lol. I don't...think so?

12. Have you ever had a fic translated? Not that I know of! (If you would like to translate anything of mine, please go for it! There's not much to work with right now though lol)

13. Have you ever co-written a fic before? Nothing that's on AO3, only super-secret stuff that may never see the light of day!

14. What’s your all time favorite ship? is this question asking for an OTP? Because I have two: Sam/Jack, SG1 and Janeway/Chakotay, Voyager.

15. What’s a WIP you want to finish but doubt you ever will? Gah, all of them. Uhhh, there's a marriage-of-convenience SJ AU where Sam and Jack have to be married to be on the same SG team that @carothepoet and I brainstormed years ago, and I doubt we'll ever finish?

16. What are your writing strengths? Silly dialogue, short fics! That's...um...it.

17. What are your writing weaknesses? WRITING VOLUME. It's not that I can't do it, it's that I don't ever prioritize my writing enough to find the time. In terms of actually putting words on the page...description is hard. Plot is hard.

18. Thoughts on writing dialogue in another language in fic? Honestly, I'm just insane and "what the hell, it's a hobby not a job" enough to Google Translate something if I really need to have some dialogue in another language. Obviously I'd put a disclaimer that I have no idea if it's correct. I like making fun of the "everyone speaks English" TV trope though, so I'm far more likely to just have the aliens randomly speak English XD

19. First fandom you wrote for? The first thing I published was for Stargate. The first stuff I wrote before I knew what fanfiction was? God, probably...actually I have no clue? percy jackson? chronicles of narnia? who knows.

20. Favorite fic you’ve written? I am choosing to be an optimist today: I don't think it's been written yet!! I do, however, have a special fondness for Chapter 3 of Letters to Archie for, yes, its pettiness and fluffiness, and also for in for a penny, in for a pound because it's fun!

I haven't been on here in ages so I have no idea who to tag. I'm just gonna tag a bunch of people and hope some of them are actually active. Uh, no pressure tagging @malewifebillcage @tommyjop @curator-on-ao3 @mylittleredgirl @mrv3000 @delicatelie89 @ladywaffles @sluttyhenley @redbelles?

#tag games #on writing #this was fun #thanks cy!!!

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velvetmel0n · 4 years

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First Time For Everything

Summary: Sleeping together counts as anger management, right?

Rating: Explicit

Word count: 3.5k

Warnings: It’s 3k+ words of smut, idk either ya’ll but uhhh penetrative sex, sex in a hallway, mutual pining?? Don’t know how that happened but we also got some good old fashioned thigh riding and a teensy bit of almost-but-not-quite-exhibitionism and Poe’s hot for it, fight me

A/N: Given my URL is anyone surprised I wrote for him first? No

The first time it happens it’s angry. Or it starts that way, at least.

You’d been arguing about something, maybe nothing at this point because it seemed all the pilot had to do was breathe in your direction some days and you two were at each other’s throats, hurling insults and accusations back and forth and you think that you might hit him this time, actually hit him. Slap him across the face so that your hand leaves a red, stinging outline on his cheek or punch him hard enough to hopefully break his nose and not your hand. But that’s not what happens.

What happens instead is that he crowds you, pushing into your space and you’re wishing you had the Force because you would knock him back into last Tuesday and- and then he’s kissing you. His mouth comes down hard against your own like he’s trying to wordlessly continue the argument, chapped lips working yours and demanding a response from you.

Maker help you, you give him one.

You dig your nails into his shoulders, scratch them down the arms that he’s using to yank you closer to him when he licks into your mouth because you’re still angry with him and the stunts he pulls. He shoves you harder against the wall in response, hard enough for your breath to stall in your throat, hard enough that your skin prickles and something twists in your belly, heat suffusing your body.

And…and that might be the precise moment when all that anger you kept stoked for Poe Dameron starts to spiral into the type of lust that you can’t ignore, can’t just pretend like it’s not burning a hole through the pit of your stomach. Not when his tongue is down your throat and his hands are in your hair, on your hips, grabbing fist fulls of fabric and pulling.

Your head is starting to spin from the combined effects of lack of oxygen and the feel of his stubble abrading your skin and you can’t quite remember why kissing him is such a bad idea. Why you had always tried to cut yourself off from whatever feelings you may or may not have for him like they were a gangrenous limb. But for as hard as you tried to push them away you still got nervous whenever he took off, knowing he was a good pilot but also knowing he had no problems almost killing himself for the possibility of saving the galaxy. It happened before and it’s bound to happen again; it almost happened today for crying out loud and if you were the self analyzing sort you might think that that’s the reason he got on your nerves so easily.

But he keeps eating at your mouth, nipping at your lip and a groan, quiet and rough, slips from him when your fingers twist in the curls at the back of his neck and you nip him back. And just like that you aren’t able to think about anything else that isn’t getting him to make that sound again.

His mouth finally breaks from yours and then he’s at your throat, mouthing at the sensitive skin under your ear and swirling his tongue against your flesh like he wants to see how you taste here, too. One of your hands move to grip the collar of his stupid, bright orange flight suit like a lifeline when he continues down the column of your neck, only dimly aware of the fact that you two are in some shadowy alcove and caring less and less about the chance of someone catching you two.

Then he shoves a thigh between your own and you don’t care at all.

You stop breathing for a moment, suspended in time before your hips stutter into a roll and all that air you’d been holding whooshes out of your lungs in a long sigh. “That’s it,” They’re the first words he’s said since corning you against the wall, his tone dark and low. Almost…soft. At odds with the way he’s been working your neck over with his teeth, no doubt leaving marks that you’d find later after you’ve come to your senses.

“Thaaat’s it,” He praises again, one of his big hands falling to your hip to wrench you harder against him until your clit is mashed against the meat of his thigh. Heat floods your system, his name little more than a puff of air leaving your lips and you’re helpless to stop yourself from grinding down. Your hands scramble to grab something, anything, ending up catching his face and pulling him back up to you, muffling your moan against his lips.

You feel like you could melt into a puddle right here against the wall, reduced to some quivering mess, and you want nothing more than to drag him down with you. He’s palming your breasts through your shirt now, finding your nipple through the fabric and pinching. You can feel the bulge of his cock against your thigh and the heat of it makes your mouth start to water and you want to go to your knees for him and take him into your mouth because… Well because you want to make him shake and pant and moan.

And then you hear the voices.

And instead of breaking apart, of doing the smart thing and running away before anyone catches you, the bastard grins at you. It’s a sharp, almost devious slash of white teeth in the shadows as he replaces his thigh with his hand.

“They won’t know we’re here if you don’t make any noise,” He mutters at your ear and the urge to hit him is back as the voices draw closer, panic rising in your chest just as fast as the whole aroused, willing-to-jump-Poe-Fucking-Dameron-in-a-hallway thing had.

“Let me go!” You hiss, afraid even that would alert whoever was coming, but to no avail. You try to stand on your tippy toes, try to crane your neck to see if they’ve turned down the hallway yet, and all the while Poe is working his hand into your pants with a renewed sense of urgency, like the threat of being caught excites him.

Because of course it does.

This was insane; ridiculous, dumb, quite possibly the worst decision you have made in the past three months, maybe longer. You hate him and you hate his stupid, reckless- oh. The breath leaves your lungs when a single, calloused finger runs along the length of your slit. You hadn’t been expecting him to completely fucking bypass your underwear, hadn’t been prepared for the feel of it.

Poe’s mouth falls open as he watches your expressions, watches the way your eyelids almost slip closed and your teeth sink into your lip. “I knew you liked me,” It’s a taunt, but it’s breathless and there’s no real venom behind it, the pilot too wrapped up in how wet you are for him. How soft, how hot. You’re practically dripping into his palm at this point and if he’s being honest with himself he wants to drown in it.

“You’re such a bastard,” You’re rocking your hips towards him all the same though, trying not to whine because he’s- he’s playing with you now. Just spreading your slick around, avoiding your clit entirely might you add, like he can’t get over the fact that it’s for him. You grab at his flight suit again, needing to hold onto something as he keeps petting you, dragging his fingers along your slit and over your lips, acting like he has all the time in the world despite the voices growing louder and clearer and you think you might actually cry if he keeps this up.

Your head starts to loll back against the wall as he keeps rubbing at you, giving you just enough stimulation to set your teeth on edge, but then he’s grabbing your jaw and leaning closer, pressing his forehead into yours. “Look at me,” It’s stern, more of a command than anything else. If this was any other time, if you weren’t in a hallway and if his hand wasn’t between your legs, there’s a good chance you would tell him to fuck right off on principle. But here you are and his hand isn’t stopping, and, embarrassingly, something about his tone is just…just working for you.

So you manage to pry open your eyes, vulnerability rocking through you when you meet his gaze head on. His eyes are dark and hungry, pupils blown out and flickering around your face like he’s trying to catch every little bite of your lip, every flinch when he touches you in just the right spot. He looks so absorbed in what he’s doing, staring at you hard like he’s trying to read your fucking mind or something and it’s affecting you just as much as his fingers are.

“Poe,” You try to appeal to him again, hearing footsteps now and your voice is high and tight from fear and the fact that he’s decided that pushing a finger into you at this exact moment is the best course of action. And, inanely, you think that nothing has felt as good as this. Then he presses the pad of his thumb against your swollen clit and begins to rub little circles into the bundle of nerves and you stand corrected; nothing has ever felt as good as this. You desperately try to suck in enough air, a whine building in your throat. He shushes you, giving your jaw a short squeeze you take to mean as him telling you to shut up and, miraculously given the current set of circumstances, you manage to swallow back any noises you’re attempting to make.

You’re unable to look away from him when he begins to feed another finger into your soaked pussy and starts to leisurely pump them in and out, never once breaking eye contact with you. Dimly you realize that the footsteps have turned down some other corridor before they reached you and you really want to say that that’s the main reason you start sagging against the wall, hips rolling as best they could with the somewhat awkward positioning.

He seems intent on dragging your pleasure out for as long as possible but the chance of getting caught is still very much present and despite your hazy brain, you know you might not get lucky the next time.

You tackle his suit with shaking hands, trying to remember how to breathe because he keeps filling you up to the knuckle with his fingers and you can feel the rough drag of them against your walls. You fumble the zipper once, twice, yanking it down on the third try- and you can’t stop the disappointment that bubbles to the surface when you see he’s wearing a shirt underneath.

You lean forwards and begin to mouth at his neck all the same, smiling against his skin when you feel the hand between your thighs stutter, stalling for several moments while he’s distracted by your mouth on his skin before he resumes fucking you with his fingers. You keep going, sucking and nibbling marks to match your own while your hands run over his torso appreciatively, wishing you two weren’t in a hallway so you could take your time to explore him.

Instead you keep heading towards your destination, tugging his zipper down further so you’re able to push your hand into his underwear. You decide to forgo any teasing and wrap your hand around the hard length of him, preening when he makes a noise that sounds somewhere between a choke and a moan from low in his throat. His free hand comes up to brace himself on the wall beside your head and he leans into you, breathing harshly while you stroke him.

Stars, he’s thick. Thicker than you imagined he’d be- not that you imagined this, not like you fantasized about what his cock might be like when you were keyed up and couldn’t sleep, or at any other time of day for that matter. No, not like that at all.

You peek down and you’re just able to catch a glimpse of the tip between your bodies, and fuck he’s pretty too. Ruddy and weeping underneath your palm as you twist and pull and swipe your thumb through the beads of pearly fluid collecting there, wishing they were on your tongue instead.

“Let me fuck you,” He breathes, thrusting into your first. He presses his lips over yours before you can answer in an open mouthed kiss. “Please let me fuck you,” It’s a ragged plea against your mouth and how could you possibly say no to Poe Dameron begging?

“If you don’t I swear I’ll stran-strangle you,” It’s less threatening than you wanted it to be, your voice keening and needy, but it got the job done and that’s all you could ask for given your current state. He slips his fingers from you and you can’t stop yourself from whining with the loss, with the promise of what’s about to replace them.

He doesn’t waste any time, his hand replacing your own and the anticipation of it all has your toes curling in your boots before he stops short, the blunt head of his cock just…Just slipping across your folds, coating himself in your slick. You can’t help but squirm because yes, it feels amazing because the head of his cock keeps sawing over you clit but you want him inside, dammit. You’re about to goad him more, wanting to tell him that if he doesn’t get on with it you’re going to blast him in his pretty face, when he finally pushes into your weeping cunt.

You stop breathing, sure that you’ve never been more full in your life, and he’s making another of those choked off, moaning sounds from somewhere in his chest. He mutters something you don’t catch over the sound of your own blood rushing in your ears and then he’s moving, slow and steady at first but picking up steam until he’s pounding you into the wall. Thankfully he still has enough sense to slap a hand over your mouth because honestly, you shouldn’t be held responsible for the sounds you’re making right now.

You claw at his shirt, his suit, trying to keep him as close to you as possible. He moves his hand from the wall to slip under your leg, hitching it up as much as he could with your pants pulled tight around your knees and something about that slight shift in angle has you locking up when he hits some magical spot that you didn’t even realize you had, squeezing your eyes so tight a tear leaks out because now he’s slowed down again. Letting you feel every ridge and vein of his cock as he drills it into that spot over and over again and you really, really do not have time for this but it just feels so good.

You try to tell him you’re about to cum, you really do. But he still has his hand over your mouth and the most you can do is let out some pathetic whimper against it. The muscles in your abdomen tighten and he shuffles impossibly closer to you, not so much thrusting as he is grinding into you now and keeping delicious pressure on that one piece of you that had you seeing stars and your clit is pressed up against his pubic bone and just like that it’s over.

Your eyes flutter and roll back into your head while you claw at him, sobbing into his hand as your body melts down around him in a rush of heat and wet. His head pops up from where it was resting on your shoulder, watching you through almost delirious eyes while he works you through it, hips doubling down until you almost can’t take it anymore.

He isn’t going to last, not after that. Not after the sounds you made, how absolutely wrecked you were as you shook in his arms. “Wh-where do you…where do you want it,” He slurs, trying to keep it together for just a little bit longer. He doesn’t remember to take his hand away from your mouth until you mumble something against it.

“Insi-side,” He can’t exactly cum anywhere else and expect to keep this little tryst a secret, but you think it’s nice that he still asked. Maybe there is a gentlemanly side of Poe hidden somewhere after all. Hallway-fucking not withstanding.

At your words he makes a noise that sounds almost painful and hunkers over you, curling his body around yours and goes to town with his hips plowing into yours. You wrap your arms around him and hold him close, catching his jaw with your hand and dragging him into an open mouthed, sloppy kiss.

Something twists in your gut then, pulling tight like an electrified wire that runs the length of your spine and you have a moment of disbelief. The only sounds are harsh breathing, Poe’s hips slamming into yours muffled by the thick fabric of his flight suit, and the obscene sounds of his cock disappearing into your body, and you think that you might actually cum again.

Again.

In the hallway.

This couldn’t be real. You had just gone too long without getting laid and are having some sort of hyper realistic fever dream to compensate. But then Poe shoves himself as deep as he can go and fucking stays there and the wire holding your entire body together at this point just snaps. Your pussy clenches around his cock and then it’s just bliss, complete bliss, because you feel him jolt against you, how he’s throbbing and wow you really didn’t think it would feel this good to have his warmth coating your insides but it does. You’re still trying to regain the ability to breathe properly when he starts talking.

”Fuck,” You’re consoled by the fact that he sounds as wrecked as you feel, but he keeps going, murmuring like he was in a daze while he mouthed at your skin. Not really doing anything in particular, but like he wanted to just…feel you. Ghosting his lips over your pulse point, running his tongue over the corner of your jaw. Kissing your shoulder. He tells you how good you felt, feel around him because he hasn’t pulled out of you yet, how perfect you are at taking him.

You soak up the praise like a sponge, the words going straight to your head and making you want to purr. You have to return to reality though, and you’re only allowed a few moments of being blissed out with a complimenting, affectionate Poe before you snap out of it.

“Okay get off, get off, get off,” You chant, trying to push his shoulders and pull up your pants at the same time. “We need to go.” His cock slips from you with all the jumping around you’re doing and you aren’t prepared for how empty you feel without it, how fucking bereft. Nope, you aren’t dealing with that right now. No way. You’d deal with your sudden, apparently emotional attachment to Poe Dameron’s cock when you aren’t at risk of getting caught with your pants down. Literally.

The pilot can’t help but chuckle at how frantic you are, unceremoniously yanking your pants up and trying to smooth out the wrinkles, trying to make yourself look as presentable as possible. All he has to do is tuck himself back into his pants and zip his flight suit, meaning all of his concentration can be on you. Warmth blooms in his chest and he wants to kiss you again, just kiss you.

He really didn’t plan on this to happen when he followed you, honest. He was just continuing the fight, dogging your heels in a way he knew would have you seeing red. Maybe he’s a masochist -or a sadist, considering- but he loves it when you’re angry. Not because of anything real or meaningful; the kind of anger that comes from pushed buttons and butting heads, the kind that makes your eyes light up and all your attention focus on him and him alone. Schoolyard tactics sure, but it was the one surefire way he had of monopolizing your time and he wasn’t above using it to his own selfish reasons

“See you around, Dameron!” You toss the words over your shoulder as you speed walk away from him, trying not to break into a run back to your room in your haste to get away from the scene of the crime… and your feelings, but that’s neither here nor there.

He frowns at your retreating back. A few minutes ago he was Poe. He was Poe and you couldn’t get enough of him, were almost climbing him like a tree in an effort to get closer and if it wasn’t for your pants getting in the way, he was sure you would have.

But he doesn’t start to follow you again. As much as he wants to, he just stands there in the hallway, looking lost before he collects himself. You’d talk about this later, whatever this had just turned into because he doesn’t want it to end. Not even close.

#poe dameron x reader #poe dameron x you #poe dameron smut #star wars fic #hoo boy my very first smut #I've spent too long looking at it I can't tell if it's good or not

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