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icequeenbae · 2 months

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Boy Next Door (m) Ch.2 | BBH

Pairing: Baekhyun x Reader

Neighbor AU, slow burn, hurt/comfort, fluff, smut

Warnings: Baek being the neighbor we’re all dreaming of, harassment (nothing graphic), a bit of body image/ insecurity, MC sucks at relationships, explicit content, unprotected sex

Word Count: ~18.5k (total), 5k (pt.2)

Summary: Your neighbor Baekhyun has been a pleasant acquaintance since you moved into your current apartment almost a year ago. Could he also be… a perfect match?

Chapter Masterlist [ongoing]: Pt. 1 > Pt. 2 > Pt. 3 > Pt. 4 (fin)

Author’s note: Okay, I am slightly late to throw this party since the follower count has hit 800 a while ago... BUT NOW IT'S HERE!!! 💜💜💜 And be ready for a bumpy ride with this one. All goes under the cut as it starts off with smut hehe

As usual I'd like to remind you that the more active you guys are, the more motivation I have to update frequently. I'm easy to reach through my asks and I check all of your comments and reblogs~ In any case, I hope you like the first half of this story (just 2 parts ahead!) 💫

Network Tags: @bbh-net @k-vanity @ksmutsociety

Baekhyun’s grip on your waist was tight.

It felt secure and confident enough, so worries about him having to hold you up were long gone from your head. Your usual shyness seemed to have dissipated, and in its place came utter shamelessness.

‘Fuck, Baekhyun-’

Your high-pitched moan made him grunt. He wasn’t very talkative of a lover, but he was invested in making you come. The two of you barely made it into the apartment, starting out at the front door and only just stumbling into the hallway. Where he had you against the wall now.

‘Please don’t stop…’ You begged, finding his grown-out hair to tug on.

Baekhyun’s hips jerked forward, nailing you into the wall, and he groaned into your neck. Barely able to hold on to his shoulders, you swayed your own pelvis to meet his thrusts. Your breathing was ragged, and the deep, messy thrusts had you both on the brink of orgasm.

‘Ooh, Baekhyun, I’m- Amph!’

Your loud wail broke into reality and woke you up.

Later that day you were telling your best friend all about your miserable existence.

‘I hate my life, Yu…’, you whined into the phone.

‘That’s understandable.’

‘Yuki!’

‘Don’t ‘Yuki’ me, I still can’t believe you didn’t drop your panties for that hot neighbor of yours.’ She huffed in the middle of lecturing you. ‘Your subconscious is doing well, showing you what could’ve been.’

‘We barely ever hung out! I couldn’t exactly jump him.’

‘You’re neighbors! Who cares about the ‘three dates’ rule? He’s been to your get-together, you’ve been at his place… eating ice cream.’ You could hear the eye roll.

‘So? That doesn’t mean we’re dating.’

‘Dating-shmating. Didn’t you just mention that you’re horny as fuck for Baekhyun?’

‘So what? I don’t even know what he thinks of me. What if he has a girlfriend?’

Your friend’s laughter filled your ears.

‘He literally cornered you at the door and told you to come back whenever you craved for your favorite ice cream flavor. If that’s not saying, ‘Let’s fuck, Y/N,’ I don’t know what is. I’m actually willing to give him extra points for this. That’s the type of smooth that you need.’

‘I need?’

‘Yep. You’re pretty gentle, you know? He probably got that when he invited you to his house, and you raided his fridge instead of his bedroom.’

She was always in your face about being too slow to open up. You’d had this conversation before, and her stance on it was unyielding – you needed to have a steady male presence in your life to gain confidence for a healthy relationship in the future. But you didn’t think you were made for such arrangements; you were quite conservative about dating.

‘He wasn’t inviting me for sex. There wasn’t anything suggestive of that!’ You countered, not sounding particularly confident.

‘You mean he didn’t make any physical contact all night? Well, that’s not solid-’

‘He did, but it was-’

‘Wait, what?? He did?!’

‘It was nothing!’ You quickly took it back, slapping yourself on the lips.

‘You know what? You don’t even have to tell me. I already know that he wants you, and you want him. I also know you’ll continue dragging it out instead of having sex with the gorgeous boy next door.’

‘That’s actually another reason why I’m reluctant. What if Baekhyun’s not into me? Or in a relationship already? Or what if it ends the usual way? We aren’t just neighbors; we’re the only people on our floor. How awkward would that be?’

Your bestie sighed, probably remembering your past relationships. She, of all people, knew precisely the terms you broke up on and how stressed you were about crossing paths with any of your exes again.

‘It does have the potential to be awkward,’ Yuki pointed out. ‘But also… can you imagine how fun it’s gonna be? You’re always grumpy about having no time for dates and stuff. But you live like 5 seconds away from each other. The universe has outdone itself, you ungrateful woman!’

She fell silent after your huff, and you called out her name to make sure she was still on the line.

‘Sorry,’ she said, not a tiny bit embarrassed. ‘I just imagined having Hoseokie as my neighbor. My body is jealous of you, Y/N. The amount of sex you could be having!’

‘Ugh. I haven’t gotten laid in eternity, yet you keep talking about sex.’

‘Sex is great, you should try it. I can’t even remember what you were like when you had it.’

‘Just as grumpy as now,’ you grumbled. ‘Don’t even count on that making me any more sociable. Once a homebody, always a homebody!’

‘Oh well, at least I’d be happy knowing your body is socializing plenty with your clothes off.’

‘Why would you think about me with my clothes off…’ You gasped.

‘Yah!’

‘I’m hanging up.’ You announced, pressing the red button.

It was your fault for telling your friend about your love struggles. You knew how she was, and you still asked for her opinion.

She texted you immediately after you had one-sidedly ended the call.

Ki-yaah | Rude

Ki-yaah | At least invite the hottie for dinner. Reciprocate his gesture, if you know what I mean

Ki-yaah | But this time don’t wear sweats!! Wear a dress! Something simple

Ki-yaah | And easy to remove;)

You | You are…

Ki-yaah | Helpful?

You | That’s not what I was gonna say, but let’s go with that…

Ki-yaah | So you will??

You | Maybe…

Ki-yaah | Gosh, why are you so resistant!?

You | Idk ㅠㅠ Stop yelling at me ㅠㅠ

Ki-yaah | If you’re really not feeling this guy it’s fine, don’t listen to me~

You | I’m scared of the opposite, Yu… I think I’m starting to ‘feel him’ way too quickly. He’s been friendly once or twice, what if I’m overreacting?

You | It’d look pretty pathetic if I made moves on him, and he didn’t even have any of that in mind…

Ki-yaah | You’re way too hard on yourself, girl. And you still cannot tell when a guy is genuinely interested in you…

Ki-yaah | Remember that party… I was drunk, but even I noticed the way he was looking at you!

You | Exactly, you were drunk! He was probably trying to memorize what I looked like, nothing more

Ki-yaah | Yeah right. Cause when a guy can’t keep his eyes off of you, it’s just him memorizing your features for a composite sketch in case you break the law

You | Stop rolling your eyes

Ki-yaah | I’m glad you noticed!!

Ki-yaah | I wish you noticed men giving you the eyes more often than you notice my eyerolls!

Ki-yaah | Just do it your way. Invite him for a snack, wear something moderately nice, be a tiny bit suggestive and see where he takes this

Ki-yaah | Also keep your counter clear, what if the sparks start flying in the kitchen? Some men get turned on by women cooking, you know? And since you’re a great cook, you might just get your answers quick and efficient~

You | If I could hang up on this chat…

Ki-yaah | Did you write this down?

You | Bye ><

Even if that could be considered decent advice, you still couldn’t muster up the courage to take initiative like this. So all that was left for you was to wait until some random occasion, pleasant or otherwise, brought you together again.

***

It was late.

It was way too late for you to be out, especially grabbing snacks in the supermarket. But you just couldn’t bring yourself to go to bed. You’d been too anxious from overthinking everything in your life recently, from your professional worth to relationships. Getting lost in reflection, you realized you desired someone’s attention and affection. You wanted someone to be close with, not just physically but also emotionally. Intimately. It wasn’t about simply being bored or lonely – any of your friends was a phone call away in cases like that. What you needed was different, and it was something that wasn’t available to you at this time, or, perhaps, ever. So, you decided that a quick run to the nearest store for something to munch on was a great idea.

Spoiler alert – it was not.

‘Damn, why did I buy so many chocolates?’ You puffed into your mask, frustrated with yourself.

Having a sweet tooth came with consequences, and you were really trying to watch your weight since you’d been stress eating for weeks (months?) due to your work-related and other problems. Now was the time to get your diet back to normal, not to maintain the harmful habits.

‘I shall bring those to work if I don’t want to eat all of them myself,’ you thought to yourself, using your code to walk onto the territory of your apartment complex. You were almost home since, thankfully, the supermarket was only a few minutes’ walk away.

The concierge was away, which you noted since you’d usually greet him whenever you came back. You simply headed towards the elevator this time, still consumed by your thoughts. Before you could get close enough to press the button, someone grabbed your wrist, startling you.

‘Excuse me!’

Turning around, you faced the stranger, who decided to stop you in your tracks so unexpectedly.

‘Yes?’

He stared back at you, and you at him. Did you know this guy? Was he new in your building? It was relatively new, so many people were moving in these days. You did, not too long ago. But he didn’t look familiar. Or trustworthy, for that matter.

‘Can I... help you?’

Moving your shoulder back you tried to break free from his hold, but didn’t succeed. This was strange.

‘You’re pretty,’ he suddenly said matter-of-factly. ‘Can I have your number?’

At this point the encounter had become creepy. You went out wearing non-flashy clothes, zero makeup and a mask. How could he even tell whether you were pretty or not? The fact that he was still physically holding you in place escalated the situation.

‘What?’ Dumbfounded, you blinked at him.

‘You’re pretty. Exotic. Give me your number, we can chat.’

Ah, that. You hadn’t been called exotic in a while, and you realized what type of guy that he was.

‘Please let go of me. Kindly.’ You asked, looking around to see if there were any security cameras pointed in your direction.

‘Give me your number first,’ he argued with a strained smile.

The contact became even more unwelcome.

‘Let go,’ you repeated firmly, jerking your arm even though your wrist began to hurt.

‘Oh, come on. I just want your number; I’m not asking for your apartment passcode! Don’t be difficult.’

You were being difficult? This guy would piss you off if he wasn’t getting scarily persistent.

‘I said, let me-’

‘What’s going on?’ A familiar voice, an octave lower than usual, rumbled from behind you.

Turning back, you realized the elevator doors were open, and your neighbor walked through those in long, determined strides.

‘Is there something you want?’ Baekhyun grabbed onto the man’s wrist. ‘Hands off.’

‘Hey, I’m just asking for some contacts, chill.’

The atmosphere seemed to get even thicker with danger. He wasn’t letting go of you, and Baekhyun seemed like he wouldn’t let it fly.

‘You followed her here in the middle of the night, trespassing, by the way, to ask for her number?’

‘What, I can’t be friendly to a nice girl?’

Baekhyun suddenly moved, tapping the intruder on the throat with his palm and using the brief daze of his opponent to unclasp his fingers from you and twist his arm behind his back. Pushing his face to the wall harshly, Baekhyun held him there for a few moments.

‘Let go of me! You’re gonna break my arm, you psycho!’

Your neighbor didn’t seem fazed by the screams.

‘Listen carefully, you fucking punk. I’ll give you ten seconds to make yourself scarce before I alert the police. And if you ever see her again – run the other way. You’ll experience more than a broken arm if you lay a hand on her, you got me?’

The guy only yelped, swearing and begging for mercy at the same time.

‘Do we have an understanding?’ Baekhyun pressed before letting him go.

‘Ye-yes! You’re crazy!’

As soon as he was left alone, your attacker stumbled towards the door and quickly ran out of your building, still holding onto his arm pathetically. Meanwhile, your vision was entirely blurred out, eyes only focused on the broad back in front of you. You were surprised when Baekhyun turned around and slowly walked towards you, looking into your eyes inquisitively.

‘Y/N-ah, are you okay?’ He asked in a much softer voice. ‘Are you hurt?’

His hand touched your reddened wrist gently, and you shuddered.

‘N-no. I’m okay. Th-thank you.’

Baekhyun’s eyes searched your face for clues and seemed to have found some. He took another careful step towards you and cautiously wrapped his arms around you. The action was much needed, and you were glad he did it. His hold made you feel grounded and secure, and you were clinging to him instinctively, searching for comfort.

‘It’s alright. He probably scared you a lot,’ he murmured, voice soothing. ‘But you’re safe now. I’m here.’

Belatedly, you realized that you were sniffling quietly into his chest the entire time, grabbing a handful of his shirt.

‘I’m sorry,’ you whispered, pulling away. ‘I didn’t mean to cause you-’

‘Y/N,’ he instantly cut you off. ‘You didn’t cause anything. But preferably don’t walk around this late all alone.’

Baekhyun cupped your face and wiped your tears with his thumbs.

‘I live just next door. Tell me if you need company, or if anyone bothers you again.’

He paused to look down and bent forward to pick something from the floor. The plastic bag from the store that you dropped during the struggle.

‘Let’s get you home now,’ he hummed, guiding you to the elevator.

‘But-’

‘Don’t worry. I’ll take care of everything.’

Baekhyun delivered you onto your doorstep in silence.

‘Do you have ice to put on your wrist for bruising?’ He inquired, and you nodded timidly.

Not that you weren’t thankful, you were just still a bit shocked, and embarrassed too.

‘Y/N-ie,’ Baekhyun suddenly patted you on the head like a little girl. ‘Are you sure you’re gonna be okay?’

‘Y-yeah. I just need to… I just need a moment.’

He nodded for you to press your passcode in, and held the door for you before giving the bag with your snacks back.

‘Text me if you need anything,’ he stressed. ‘Okay?’

‘Mhm.’ You simply nodded.

You couldn’t exactly say that he was what you needed right now.

‘See you, Y/N-ah.’

***

The incident greatly impacted your (usually) pretty peaceful life. And it actually pushed you towards interacting with Baekhyun much more often – from the occasional small talk whenever you ran into each other, to the actual… hangouts? You swiftly went from acquaintances to friends.

In the span of a few weeks, you became a frequent guest at his home. One could even say that the negative experience turned out to be the catalyst of your relationship. You’d grown much closer afterwards. So comfortable with each other, that you found yourself in his living room in front of the TV every other day.

‘Yah, why didn’t you pause while I was on the phone? I can’t trust you to give me the short version, you take longer than if we actually rewatch it!’

‘What? I can be pretty laconic if I need to!’ You threw a carrot slice at him.

You had so much popcorn lately that a healthier equivalent was more than necessary.

‘What’s this, a bunny attack?’ Baekhyun threw it in his mouth and crunched on it. ‘Get back to where I left off.’

‘Alright, oppa.’

He drove you crazy with his bossiness sometimes.

‘That’s right. Respect your elders,’ he teased.

‘Why do I put up with this…’ Rewinding the episode, you scratched the fluffy head in your lap. ‘Mongryong-ah, I only endure this for you!’

Baekhyun looked down at his corgi.

‘Wah, living your best life, aren’t you, old man?’

‘You didn’t have to mention his age! You’re still adorable, Ryongie,’ you stroked the dog’s back.

‘He likes you too much,’ Baekhyun noted. ‘This grandpa usually isn’t this mellow with strangers.’

‘I’m not a stranger!’

‘With new people,’ he corrected, laughing at your exasperation.

‘I like him too. It’s mutual,’ you hugged the corgi, stretching his long body along yours, and rubbed his belly.

‘Wow. Literally a pile of mush, disgusting.’ Baekhyun said, looking at his happy dog.

‘You’re just jealous ‘cause he’s never this cute with you.’

‘Or I’m jealous ‘cause I want a belly rub too,’ he retorted, finally pressing play.

‘All you have to do is ask,’ you thought.

Unfortunately for you, Mongryong actually lived with Baekhyun’s parents, so you couldn’t use him as an excuse to come over that often. Even though your neighbor was diligently informing you about his pet’s visits. You really should’ve read between the lines, but even if you realized he did like you… It wouldn’t have changed much. You were just not the type to make the first move, so you just went with the flow. And if there was no opening for you to spend time with Baekhyun, you just… didn’t.

But the universe had its own ways of pushing you.

‘Why isn’t it working?’ You grumbled, pressing the numbers on your keypad lock. ‘Please, don’t tell me…’

An odd thought had crossed your mind. You hadn’t changed your batteries since you’d moved in, so what if those had completely drained? Today, of all days! When you went out to buy some cereal and ended up running home from the store under pouring rain?

‘No, dammit!’ You cursed under your breath.

‘Trouble with your lock?’ The voice from behind made you jump.

‘Oh god, when did you get here?’

‘Just now,’ Baekhyun hummed. ‘You look stressed. Are you locked out?’

‘Yeah. The battery died… Very timely. What do I do…’

‘You need a 9V.’

‘A what?’

‘A 9V square battery,’ Baekhyun laughed. ‘Which, I assume, you don’t have.’

You stared at him blankly, looking absolutely clueless.

‘Come here,’ he grabbed your wrist and led you to his door. ‘I’ll go to the store and get you one. But you need to change, or you’re bound to get sick.’

It wasn’t like you would say no – you were shivering already.

‘Here, you can wear this for the time being. And a towel,’ he handed you a small pile as soon as he left his bedroom. ‘Use a hairdryer for your hair.’

‘You really don’t need to-’

‘Go, you’re freezing. I’ll make a quick run to the store and back, and you warm up in the shower.’

‘Thank you,’ you managed to say while he was nudging you into the bathroom.

You locked the door behind yourself just to be sure, although you trusted that Baekhyun wouldn’t try anything. Still, taking a shower at his place was kinda intimate… and exciting. Maybe because it was the first time you’d ever done it in another man’s home?

‘Get ahold of yourself, Y/N-ssi,’ you told your reflection in the mirror.

The color in your cheeks seemed too bright. Taking your clothes off was strangely a big deal, so you hurried up and jumped into the shower quickly. Your body welcomed the warmth, so you spent at least ten blissful minutes under the hot water. Baekhyun’s wash smelled nice, and you stood there for a few minutes, thinking about how familiar the scent was. You’d seen him fresh out of the shower, so you knew this smell even though it was less concentrated on him. And now you had it all over yourself.

‘Stop wasting someone else’s water,’ you scolded yourself for your dreaminess and finished your routine quickly.

The thought of you smelling exactly like Baekhyun made you squirm. Were you a pervert? This shouldn’t have been this thrilling. Continuing to scold yourself, you got dressed.

‘Gosh, this shirt is long,’ you mused, trying to see the fit in the mirror. It reached your mid-thigh and was the best Baekhyun could offer of his own oversized clothes. You daydreamed for another minute about how broad and chic his shoulders must look in clothes like these.

‘I really do need to get a grip.’

Another ten minutes later, you finally stepped out of the bathroom. You found Baekhyun in the kitchen, moving stuff around on the counter. Certainly, with how long you’d been in the shower… he was back already.

‘Oh, Y/N, you’re done already?’ He asked as soon as he spotted you. ‘Sit down, I’m making you some mint tea.’

Mint tea was actually something that you brought into his life. Baekhyun wasn’t into tea – like almost any Korean, he preferred coffee. But once you’d introduced some variation into his beverage selection during one of your visits, he grew to appreciate the new flavors.

Instead of taking a seat, you came closer to see how he was brewing his tea. Baekhyun was very focused, and you couldn’t help but smile.

‘You didn’t have to do this,’ you murmured, sounding softer than you expected.

He looked down at you, eyes wandering around your face for a few seconds before reaching your mouth.

‘It’s no problem. I don’t want you to get sick,’ he said, turning away and licking his lips. ‘Here.’

You accepted the cup from his hands and took a sip.

‘Oh, that’s good! Thanks!’

Baekhyun nodded, watching you have more.

‘Did you get the V.. battery thing?’

‘Oh, about that… They didn’t have any. But don’t worry, I ordered express delivery online, should take a couple hours tops.’

Catching your uncertain expression, he suggested moving to the living room.

‘We can watch something or just chill.’

Although you agreed, you knew there was no way to pay attention to anything on the screen. You were acutely aware of the fact that you were in Baekhyun’s home, wearing his clothes, smelling of his shower gel, and sitting on his sofa. And the person responsible for your unstable control over your feelings was slowly catching up.

‘You sure you’re okay, Y/N-ah?’ He asked, leaning in to touch your forehead. ‘You seem a bit distracted and quiet.’

‘No. I mean, yes. I mean- I’m fine,’ you blurted out too quickly.

He stayed close, examining your face in great detail.

‘Your cheeks are red,’ he said, making you hold your breath. ‘And you’re pretty without makeup. As usual.’

You swallowed, afraid that your voice could betray you if you answered. His lips parted as soon as his eyes fell on your mouth again.

‘You’re always pretty,’ he said, distracted by your lips.

Without realizing it, you cocked your head slightly to the side, inviting him to kiss you. He was slowly getting closer, and your mind blacked out for a second.

When the lights in your head turned back on, you were full-on making out. It started slow initially, then it led to you two viciously attacking each other’s lips. Just the sound of your kissing made you shiver, and the pleasant tickle of butterflies in your belly accompanied this madness. You hadn’t experienced it for so long, it seemed new, and strong, and addictive.

Baekhyun didn’t waste any time, hands wrapping around your unsuspecting form to hold you against him. You gasped for air, but that was a short-lived pause. His tongue slid between your lips mischievously, and you could only grunt. You’d be down for anything he suggested right now. It was hard to tell how much time had passed while you were kissing, but you relished every second of it. His warmth, his skill, his gentle touch… He was way too perfect, and there was no way you could stop at your own volition.

But the doorbell disrupted your craze within a second.

Both of you stared into each other’s eyes, breathing heavily before he finally moved to get off of you. Sitting up, you tugged at the hem of your shirt, unable to recall just when he got on top of you. Not that you minded, anyway.

‘Ah, why did I order express delivery…’ Baekhyun muttered frustratedly, closing his eyes. ‘Give me a minute. No, twenty seconds.’

Nodding, you chuckled at his impatience. You felt exactly the same – eager to pick up where you left off. Although you weren’t the type of girl who’d give in to her desires easily, you’d been tiptoeing around your devilishly handsome neighbor for way too long. What happened just moments prior was solid proof of how weak you were for him. It was the first time ever you dove into a makeout session so fanatically that your memory was spotty afterward.

But the worries suddenly replaced your giddiness. What if he thought… that you were into that sort of thing? What if he now believed that you casually came into men’s houses and jumped them like a hungry lioness? Was it too needy of you?

‘What the hell are you doing here?’

The undertone of Baekhyun’s voice instantly got your attention. He wasn’t pleased to see whoever it was at his door. Could there be any trouble with the delivery?

‘Aw, and I was under the impression you’ve been missing me like crazy, babe.’ The flirty female voice answered.

Oh no.

Oh hell no.

Did he… have a girlfriend?!

The thought was like a cold shower to your body. Of course. An attractive young man lives in a fancy apartment complex and drives a luxurious car… How could he ever be single?

You were so naive.

And now you were about to get caught.

Springing up from the sofa, you darted towards the door and then froze. You couldn’t walk out of the living room without being seen. This was a nightmare, your worst nightmare coming to life.

‘I signed off on your delivery for you. Can’t you be grateful for one second, Baekhyunie?’

Her voice seemed closer. She was definitely inside the apartment. Maybe she’d believe your explanation that he was just helping you out? Solely friendly neighbor stuff? Oh gosh, you were totally done for.

‘Just get out.’

‘Why, are you hiding something?’ She asked, a bit less playful this time.

‘No.’

‘Are you sure?’ You could hear her taking a step.

‘Didn’t you hear me? Get out.’

There were a few seconds of silence that made you quiver with anxiety.

‘Is there someone in there, Baekhyun?’ She repeated.

‘Is it any of your business?’ He gritted. ‘Where do you think you’re- yah!’

The noise from the hallway could only mean one thing – she was walking right this way. Your mind couldn’t develop anything slightly useful at that point, so you simply stood there. In front of the sofa where you’d just almost… yeah.

She stormed into the room, pausing when she saw you. She was taller than you and very, very skinny. If you’d ever met her outside, you’d think she was a model. She wore a black ensemble that you could only guess was some hot-ass designer, and her hair was perfectly styled. She didn’t blink her faux eyelashes once while scanning you head to toe.

‘Are you freaking serious?’

The way she scrunched her nose, almost in disgust, made you shift uncomfortably. You’d definitely tell her off for this, if not for the shame you felt for being caught red-handed as ‘the mistress’.

‘Are you serious? Stop walking around like you own the place.’ Baekhyun fired back from behind her.

‘I go to the States for a few months, and then you’re snatched when I return?’ She huffed in disbelief. ‘Or is she paid to come here? Judging by the attire you were saving up. And I wouldn’t wear anything revealing with legs like that.’

Your mouth opened, but before you could even respond, your neighbor grabbed her forearm.

‘You really are delusional. Get out of my house.’

He dragged her back to the door, and she continued to yell at him.

‘Are you kidding me, Baekhyun? I can’t believe you’d kick me out to stay with some hooker!’

He stopped abruptly, turning to face her.

‘My mother taught me not to swear in front of ladies. But I hope you shut your fucking mouth right now. I’m only warning you once.’

He shoved her forward towards the door and cleared his throat.

‘Get your shit and leave. I’ll have a word with our security about how you got in.’

‘Fuck you, Byun. I’ll walk these heels over your balls when you realize you’ve made a huge mistake!’

‘Please, spare me your sick fantasies.’ He rolled his eyes, swinging his door open. ‘Out.’

The door slammed shut as soon as she left, and Baekhyun sighed loudly. He ran his left hand through his hair, still on edge, and pressed a button to turn the display on to see your floor. When she was gone, he sighed again, this time in relief. And you… felt so confused. And ashamed. And humiliated.

When Baekhyun turned around, it struck you on the spot. You couldn’t face him right now. Suddenly you felt small and exposed, and all you wanted was to be alone. So, you rushed back into the room to grab your phone.

‘Y/N-’ He began, walking after you. ‘Wait.’

You avoided his touch as you busted out of the room.

‘Where are you going?’ He asked as you slipped your feet into your wet shoes. ‘Stop.’

His hand caught your elbow, and you shivered as his skin burned yours.

‘Please, don’t follow me. I need to go.’ You asked, facing the door.

‘But-’

‘Baekhyun.’ You pushed.

He didn’t say anything for a moment. You heard shuffling, and then he put something into your palm.

‘You’ll need this.’

The battery.

Masterlist

A/N: Happy (belated) Lunar Year to everyone btw! And also huge thanks to all of you sweethearts who take time to read my stories and leave me long kind messages and comments, I appreciate you so much ❤️❤️❤️

96 notes · View notes

delta-pavonis · 3 months

Note

'allo! may i have a bit of Friend Like Me? ;)

Absolutely! I have posted some of this before, but once again Tumblr's search function is failing me and apparently I can't organize my own tags for shit so... This is Matthew + Hob used to be partners in crime (literally) and Hob may or may not have started the crew from Leverage. 😂

100% G-rated fluff over here.

Hob has to do this every few decades otherwise he would be up to his eyeballs in storage units. It isn't fun, but neither is having too many moving parts to keep track of and potentially getting caught by another asshat with a hard-on for immortality.

What was that quote he had read? "No matter how subtle the wizard, a knife between the shoulder blades will seriously cramp his style."

Not to mention the myriad other enemies he had accumulated via his network of grifters, hitters, and hackers.

(What? The current state of technological advancements meant that Hob needed to get better at tracking and erasing his digital presence back in the late nineties. Was it his fault that while he was living in the States he had accidentally amassed a highly skilled group of "criminals" who were all connected to him like spokes to the hub on a carriage wheel? And that it turned out that they were, as a team, really great at liberating funds and removing items from billionaire idiots who didn't need a fraction of their accumulated wealth and power? That they did it so well that Hob had to fake his own death earlier than expected to get out from under a particularly angry arms dealer? Was that really all because of him?)

(Yes. Yes it was.)

Yeah, anyway, Hob didn't leave the house without at least one blade on his person anymore.

This is why, when Hob is interrupted by a large black mass swerving into his storage unit through the crack in the door that should be far too small to admit such a creature, he pulls the nearest throwing knife (he was crouching, so he went for the one concealed in a sheath on the outside ankle of his black leather chelseas), clocks the intruder's movement in his peripheral vision, and wings it directly at them. It hits the wall with a satisfying kthud, which is promptly followed by a very avian squawking.

"FUCKING CAWCHRIST MY DUDE WAS THAT A KNIFE!?! WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS, THE IDES OF FUCKING MARCH?!"

That voice! Hob's head snaps up to see a sizable black bird falling in a tumble. It hits the concrete floor with a sound not unlike a briefcase hitting pavement from a story up (what? It is a very distinctive sound), leaving three large feathers tacked into the wall by the knife.

"Fuck me sideways that HURTS. Note to self, birds no likey losing butt feathers." The bird (A raven? Like this is the bloody Tower of London?) walks out from around a cardboard box with a bit of a waddle in its step, trying to look back at his tail while he moves. "I guess the Boss didn't tell you I was coming then?"

Hob sits back on his heels. That voice is still hauntingly familiar. But he would damned well remember meeting a talking bird. "Well, perhaps if you told me who your Boss is..."

The raven leaps a solid four feet into the air with a screech. He lands on top of a small writing desk, scrabbles against the smooth surface to balance himself, and then looks down at Hob with one glass-black eye. "I can't believe... no fucking way... Robbie? Is that you? Didn't you die in 2017?"

"Mattie?!" Hob's ass hits the cool floor as he is blown back by the revelation. "Didn't you die in 2020?"

Matthew Cable had been one of Hob's favorite grifters. Not because he was absolutely perfect at his job (oh no, Mattie had fucked up spectacularly more times then Hob’s blood pressure wants to recall), but because they had quickly become "let's get absolutely toasted and MST3K bad horror movies while we bitch about our love lives" buddies. Hob had missed Mattie immediately upon his own faked death and had mourned when he heard, through various channels he still kept an ear to, that Mattie had died in his sleep not too long ago.

"Yeah, but when I died I was given, like, a choice? Apparently the King of Dreams needed a new Raven and I decided to give it a go. Sounded much more interesting to work for him than actual death. There must be some mistake because I was sent here with a message for Hhh..." Mattie freezes.

"Dream sent you?" Hob tilts his head in interest. This was the Matthew he had often mentioned? A raven that carried his messages? Hob had been jealous over a bird?! (Oh Christ, how embarrassing.)

"Wait... what the fuck are you doing in Hob GaaaaAAHHHH!" Mattie the Raven starts hopping around frantically. "YOU ARE NOT JUST IN HOB GADLING'S STORAGE UNIT. YOU ARE HOB GADLING! FRIEND OF THE LORD MORPHEUS, KING OF DREAMS AND NIGHTMARES!"

Hob can't help his laughter. "Oh, he told you I was his friend, did he?" That Dream had called him friend to someone else shouldn't feel as good as it did. Hob tamps that useless bit of emotion down hard. (No good can come of that, better to put it away.) "Only took him six centuries to get there, stubborn wanker that he is." He fails to keep the fondness from his voice.

"Christ you have no idea how much of a wanker sometimes..." Mattie shuffles his feathers. "Look, I gotta know the story here, man. How did you meet the King of Dreams?"

Hob stands, brushing off his jeans. "That... is a rather long story." He considers for a minute, barely that, rubbing at the back of his neck, before coming to a decision. "Look, it isn't like I get my close friends back from the dead every day... how about we head back to my flat, pull up something ridiculous like Slenderman, and I will fill you in on my story? Like old times?"

Mattie flaps over and lands on Hob's shoulder. "Hells to the yes. Especially if we can find out if ravens respond to THC. Shit, you ever get more of that Amnesia shit the team picked up in Amsterdam during that art heist job?"

Hob's belly laugh echoes in the small room. "I think I still have some squirreled away from my last trip to the continent."

He locks the storage unit behind them. All the spring cleaning can happen another day.

___________________________________

They did not, upon making it back to Hob’s flat above The New Inn, actually end up watching their intended horror movie. Instead, as they were flipping through options, they stumbled upon the live-action remake of Aladdin and Mattie had been so damned adamant that he wanted to see it while high that Hob had allowed the deviation from their established pattern.

“That bird is a fucking useless sidekick. I will show you how to do it!” Matthew stands, wobbles, and falls off where he had been balanced on the arm of Hob’s couch.

Hob cackles, slouching back into the cushions. “Well, that’s your answer to the question about birds and THC, innit?”

Matthew flapped his way up onto the space next to Hob. “Hey, I am still getting used to this stupid body without any fucking thumbs.”

“Fair enough.” He shrugs, sinking even further back and letting the movie drift into the background, a gentle blanket of familiar songs. “So I can feel you trying to not ask questions. Ask away, Mattie. I owe you that much, at least.”

“Fucking right you do, faking your death like that caw.” The raven shakes his head. “Where even to start… Oh! I got it! When and how did you meet the King of Dreams and Nightmares? That must have been a trip and a half.”

The memory makes Hob even warmer and he feels himself grinning as he looks at the ceiling. “I was drinking with my pals at a tavern, the White Horse, in the year of our lord thirteen hundred and eighty nine…”

“Wait. The fuck? You are…” Mattie clearly stops to count for a blink, “almost seven hundred years old?”

“That I am, now let me finish… I rather loudly proclaimed that I had decided not to die. Just wasn’t going to fucking do it. And that was when he approached the table,” Hob closes his eyes, the swooping feeling of seeing Dream for the first time still razor sharp in his memory. Should he tell Mattie? Well, he had never been dishonest with the man before, no reason to start now. So Hob let all his emotional walls down. “And I swear to God, Mattie, it was like seeing a meteor shower for the first time. It was like discovering a second moon. I was absolutely dumbstruck by the beauty of this cocky young Lordling, all standing before me like he owned half the country. Looked it too, with that giant fucking ruby around his neck and his fine clothing.” Hob shakes his head, grin widening. “He offered me a deal. If I wanted unending life, then I could come back to that tavern on the same day at the same time one hundred years hence and tell him of my experiences of life so long-lasting. And here I am.” When Mattie doesn't immediately respond, Hob opens his eyes and turns his head. “What?”

The raven was studying him intently. When he spoke it was carefully metered and very much not in jest. “Robbie. I might be a bird now, but I would know that expression on your face anywhere. Do you… Are you…”

He didn’t need to put words to it, Hob knew exactly what his friend meant. He shrugged. “Aye, I probably am. But you have to understand, Mattie, he has been the only constant in my whole long life. Hundreds of relationships. Thousands of friendships. Centuries of life. And he was my only anchor.” Hob lets himself drift on that thought for a moment before coming back. “Did you know that I didn’t know his name until a few months ago when he showed up at the New Inn?”

“What?! What kind of asshole doesn’t give his – oh, wait, this is Dream I am talking about, isn’t it…”

Hob laughs. “You are very correct. Dream’s stubbornness is only surpassed by his beauty.”

“Wow. You’ve got it bad.”

“Most likely.” Hob inclines his head. “But I am happy with whatever type of relationship he is capable of with me."

The raven whistles. "Got it baaaad."

____________________________

And so it happens that Hob and Mattie are stonedly bickering over if Will Smith’s portrayal of the Genie was a good homage or a bad mockery (all while A Whole New World starts up in the background) when the King of Dreams and Nightmares steps out of nothingness and into Hob’s living room.

“Matthew! You were told to deliver a message, not spend an entire day-”

Hob cuts Dream off with an overdramatic, “OoooOOOOoooh, Mattie, you are in trooooouble.” Dream’s stern face snaps to Hob’s and he slaps a hand over his mouth while he giggles none-too-loudly, “OooooOOOh, now I am in trooooouble.”

That makes Mattie burst into giggles and let it be known that the giggle of a raven is not actually a pleasant sound to take in.

So it makes Hob laugh harder.

Then he sees Dream’s absolutely bewildered expression.

And that makes Hob laugh even harder.

Sobbing as he laughs, collapsed to the floor (having initially fallen clear off the couch in surprise at Dream’s entrance), clutching his belly, Hob can’t even bring himself to worry that Dream might actually be angry with him. Fuck, Hob just got Mattie back. This is fucking great.

Hob wipes at his face as his hysterics subside, trying to keep his voice steady as he addresses Dream from his place on the floor. “I’m sorry, m’love, I didn’t mean to patronize you, I just-” He cuts himself off when he sees, for the first time, a petal-pink blush color his Stranger’s cheeks.

“You called him your love!” Mattie cackles. Hob feels himself blush now, too. That was a slip. That shouldn’t have happened. (Ah, bollocks.) “You are so in for it now. The Boss hates pet names! Once I tried to call him Lord Mew-mew because he was acting like a wet fucking cat and-”

“Enough.” Dream waves his hand to his Raven and the bird is immediately silenced. “Matthew, leave us. I am not asking.”

“Aww, maannn.” Mattie shakes himself off and seems to become shockingly sober with just a ruffle of feathers. “Roger that, Boss. See you back at home.” Then he nods to Hob. “We should do this again sometime.”

Before Hob can respond Mattie has taken wing and flown out a window that definitely was not open a moment ago. When he looks back up it is to have Dream’s hand in front of his face, gently offering to help him stand. Hob takes it, if only for the excuse to touch his Stranger’s skin for the first time. (His touch is cool, his fingers long and uncalloused, his skin smooth. Hob memorizes every sensation greedily.)

Dream seems to realize this once Hob is on his feet because the blush deepens slightly and he retracts his hand with a jerky motion.

“I am sorry if I offended you, Dream.” Hob takes a step to the side and tries to catch his friend’s eye. Dream keeps purposefully looking away. “It is just a silly human endearment. I am rather high on some excellent weed and I didn’t mean-”

“Ah.” Dream interrupts and Hob’s jaw clicks shut. Dream is still not looking at him and so Hob can see the way the muscles in his jaw flex with tension. “Just a silly endearment. You did not mean it.”

Something fiery swoops inside Hob. Dream has never acted like this. Never avoided Hob’s eyes. Never interrupted him. And all because Hob had accidentally called him love.

See, thing is, Hob does mean it. More than he has words for. But never did he think… Dream couldn’t possibly. Fuck. Hob is too high to think clearly about this.

Hob steps into Dream’s line of sight, forces the slightly taller anthropomorphic personification to meet his eyes. Why it comes out a whisper when Hob speaks he will never know. “Dream. Do you want me to mean it? Do you want me to call you,” he hesitates for a moment because this could ruin everything. (But look at him! Look at the hurt in his expression, the tension in his shoulders. He does not hide it well, now that Hob knows what to look for - thanks, Sophie.) “my love?”

It is answer enough to see Dream’s pupils dilate and his nostrils flare. Oh fuck. Oh fuck. Oh fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck.

He is shaking when he goes to take Dream’s hand, brings it up to press a kiss to those beautiful fingers. “If I am reading this wrong then please please let’s just chalk it up to the THC and pretend this never happened. But…” Hob takes the last step in and now they are almost chest-to-chest, “I thought you would have figured it out after 1689… you are my guiding star. It is you who I wait decades for. You who I hope to impress with my experiences. You who I have yearned to touch with every fiber of my being for literal centuries.” Dream is blinking wide eyes at him now, confusion and surprise and hope all written there. “And if your friendship is all I can have, then so be it. But, Dream. If I had three wishes I would spend them all just to be able to call you love.”

#Pavonis writes #Dreamling #Leverage AU

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soular-sisters · 18 hours

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Your Rising Sign & Your Gift From The Universe 🤍

Through my studying of astrology, I have learned that with each individual’s rising sign comes a natural ability gifted by the universe that is second nature to that individual. Here is a little description of each rising sign’s gift that the universe has given you in this lifetime.

🤍 Aries Rising: Since aries is ruled by mars (the planet of masculine energy & drive), an aries rising is naturally goal-oriented. The universe has gifted aries rising with the ability to follow through with goals & continuous energy to reach their success.

**ways to best use their ability: leading a group to success, motivating a team, & helping push themselves and others through tough times.

🤍 Taurus Rising: Being a taurus rising, the venus sign that’s of earth element, means they are naturally grounded. The universe has gifted taurus rising with a natural sense of mindfulness & peace within their being.

**ways to best use their ability: meditating in nature, being a healthy mediator in situations of conflict, & creating peaceful practices for yourself and others to follow.

🤍 Gemini Rising: With gemini being one of the two signs ruled by mercury (the planet of thoughts & communication), a gemini rising has the gift of gab. The universe has gifted gemini rising with the ability to expand their mind & connect with others from all walks of life through communication.

**ways to best use their ability: forming friendships with diverse people, networking with others to develop their career, & creating social groups by interconnecting their various friendships.

🤍 Cancer Rising: As a cancer rising being ruled by the moon (the planet of the mother & feminine intuition), they are naturally caring and empathetic individuals. The universe has gifted cancer rising with a natural intuition into their own emotions as well as the emotions of others.

**ways to best use their ability: being the mom friend of a friend group, intuitively sensing how to help those in need, & caregiving for animals and people who need healing.

🤍 Leo Rising: The solar sign of leo being ruled by the sun (the planet of warmth & radiance) is a natural star. The universe has gifted leo rising with a natural stage presence & ability to perform on cue.

**ways to best use their ability: giving an unforgettable speech, performing a piece of art that they’re passionate about, & using their charm to present on a topic for positive change.

🤍 Virgo Rising: Virgo being the earthy sign ruled by mercury (the planet of our analytical mind & communication), they naturally sees the finer details the average person doesn’t. The universe has gifted virgo rising with natural observational skills to see situations from a clear & logical view.

**ways to best use their ability: giving solid objective advice to others, finding truth in complex situations, & standing up for what’s right even if others don’t initially see it.

🤍 Libra Rising: Libra being the second of the two venus signs carries an undeniable beauty that can be seen from anyone they meet. The universe has gifted libra rising with natural physical beauty & grace.

**ways to best use their ability: styling themselves and loved ones for an event, spotting the trends before they start, & finding the beauty in life where others don’t see it.

🤍 Scorpio Rising: Scorpio is a unique sign that is ruled by two planets (mars & scorpio) giving them an energy to intuitively connect with the physical & the unseen. The universe has gifted scorpio rising with an ability to intuitively see through the vail of any facade & naturally see pure truth.

**ways to best use their ability: reading situations for what they are, being the one to say what’s being unsaid, & connecting the truth between the spiritual and the physical world.

🤍 Sagittarius Rising: The happy-go-lucky sign of sagittarius being ruled by jupiter (the planet of luck & adventure), is blessed with a natural sense of positivity. The universe has gifted sagittarius rising with a lucky streak, it seems as though the universe finds good luck for these natives through life’s sticky situations.

**ways to best use their ability: helping themselves and others find luck in a bad situation, using their good sense of humor to lighten the mood, & seeing the positive side of life.

🤍 Capricorn Rising: It is no wonder that the sign of capricorn being ruled by saturn (the planet of karma & knowledge), is known as the old soul of the zodiac. The universe has gifted capricorn rising with innate wisdom.

**ways to best use their ability: answering pop quiz questions that come to people’s minds, studying various topics to gain deep universe knowledge, & giving sound advice to others through higher wisdom.

🤍 Aquarius Rising: The unique & innovative sign of aquarius is another sign with dual rulership by both the planets of uranus & saturn. The universe has gifted aquarius rising with a natural connection to humanity.

**ways to best use their ability: making personal connections with various people they meet in life, understanding the depths of humanity, & using their humanitarianism to heal rifts in human connections.

🤍 Pisces Rising: The spiritual sign of pisces is our final sign of double rulership with two ruling planets of neptune & jupiter. The universe has gifted pisces rising with a strong intuition through their connection to the spiritual realms.

**ways to best use their ability: meditating to connect to their higher self, making spiritual connections to the people they meet in their life, & helping others to connect to the unseen spiritual realm.

-A.A.

IG: @dredivine.creates

#astrology #zodiac #aries #gemini #aquarius #taurus #cancer #capricorn #leo #libra #pisces #virgo #ascendant #rising sign #scorpio #Sagittarius #astrologer #astro #astro community #zodiacsigns

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ros3ybabe · 9 months

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August 15th, 2023 🎀

My university resumes classes tomorrow! I am so excited to really begin and solidify my morning routine and get back into the school mindset and grind. I'm really planning on being successful this semester.

With the new semester starting, I figure it's time to set out some new goals and things I want to accomplish this semester.

Fall Semester Goals 🌸

🩷 Academic Goals -

Pass every class with an A, no exceptions. I took on an easy class load for a reason.

Join 1 or 2 clubs. There's a club related to my major that I'm looking into, as well as a kpop club and a Japanese club that I'm looking into joining if I have the ability to.

Put effort into my classes. Don't miss class without a solid, valid excuse. Actually study and review class material outside of lectures. Ask questions in class and don't be afraid to go to office hours or tutoring.

🩷 Personal Goals

Stick to a consistent morning routine! Workout, journal, read, make my bed, skincare, etc. Consistency builds confidence.

Pamper myself regularly. For me, this means the occasional retail therapy moment and getting my nails done every 4 to 6 weeks. I don't normally get my nails due to the nature of my job, but if I keep my nails short and not too flashy, it'll be great! My first appointment is at the end of this week, and I'm excited! The picture of nails I included is actually how I'm getting mine done!!

Routinely attend appointments. That includes lab work, therapy, psych, dental, and general physician appointments. My health is a priority, and I want to make sure I stay on top of it this semester.

🩷 Social Goals

Attend study group sessions when applicable

Again, join a club or two. It's the best way to make friends with similar interests.

Attend social networking events on my campus. They have career fairs and professional fairs all the time. As a junior in university, I think it's time I start building some connections for future internship and career opportunities.

I also have some physical goals, but I will not be including those here as to not accidentally trigger anyone. I don't have particular deadlines for any of the goals I mentioned, but I feel like it's important to have these goals so I know the direction I want my semester to go in.

I'm really excited for this semester. It's time I put my best foot forward and succeed. I know I can do this. My GPA will increase, I will recieve more scholarships, and I will pass everything with high marks. I believe in myself.

To everyone also beginning their semesters, good luck!! I wish you all the best success in every way and that you all thoroughly enjoy everything these next few months bring!

Til next time, lovelies !! 🩷

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jbuffyangel · 3 months

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Hot and Cold: Arrow 1x22 Review (Darkness of the Edge of Town)

There is no episode that exemplifies the disjointed nature of Season 1 more than “Darkness on the Edge of Town.” We have Exhibit A: an OTA field op and the smoaking hot chemistry of Stephen Amell and Emily Bett Rickards igniting in an elevator shaft of all places.

And Exhibit B: the other show. A frigid black hole I feared we’d never escape from.

Let’s dig in…

Olicity and OTA

Let’s start with the positive since there is soooooo much freaking positive! It can take time for a television series to find its footing in the first season. Unfortunately, nowadays if the audience isn’t binging the entire season in 24 hours, the show gets canceled. But blessedly, this was 2013. Network TV was still the supreme ruler, and Arrow was pulling big enough numbers for the CW to allow for some leeway.

Twenty two episodes of leeway. Arrow finally found its groove and latched on to the mystical “it factor” that keeps an audience watching - Oliver, Felicity and Diggle. The chemistry and dynamic between these characters and the actors who play them is undeniable and it creates an action packed, laughing out loud, and sizzling hot episode. The writers are having FUN in “Darkness on the Edge of Town" and it shows, which means we get to have fun too.

Oliver decides to question his mother regarding the Undertaking, but she refuses to confess. So, Oliver and Diggle take a more brutal approach. The Hood kidnaps them both and beats the crap out of Oliver until she coughs up the information. It’s always hilarious when this show acts like David Ramsey can fit in Stephen Amell’s suit.

The burgeoning relationship between Oliver and Felicity is very much in its infancy. Oliver is fully in denial about feeling any type of way toward his IT girl. Never is that more apparent then when Oliver and Diggle return from the confrontation with Moira. Diggle gets a few solid whacks in, which I’m sure felt amazing given the absolute jackass Oliver was being the past few episodes.

Felicity has a much harder time concealing her feelings towards Oliver and it’s clear she worries about him. She is always the first to ask if he’s okay, offer a supportive ear to listen or shoulder to cry on. However, Oliver seems to draw a line in this episode when Felicity reaches to touch the bruise on his face. That small step was too much. He physically keeps her at arm’s length because the intimacy of Felicity’s concerned touch is not something Oliver is ready for. There is still a very big wall hiding all that pain, regret and unworthiness.

Source: @lyricalarrow

Admitting he remembers the exact day they met, however, is absolutely no problem. We shall come to discover just how much Oliver remembers about that day in later seasons. I have a lot of male friends and I guarantee you I don’t remember the day we met. However, the day I met my husband is burned into my memory.

The team determines the only way to stop Merlyn from leveling the Glades with a man-made earthquake machine is to find the location of the device. Unfortunately, Felicity is unable to hack Merlyn’s system so she needs direct access to his mainframe inside Merlyn Global Headquarters. LET'S DO CRIMES!

Oliver makes an appointment with Tommy (more on that later) while Felicity continues to up her adorability factor by dressing up as Big Belly Burger employee delivering lunch to a security guard otherwise known as John Diggle.

The burger is laced with benzodiazepine, so it knocks out the other security guard and gives John free reign to control the elevator & cameras. Do we know how Diggle is able to pose as a security guard? No. Do we care? Nope. Let the hijinks commence!

Oliver and Felicity make their way to the elevator, but not until Oliver unloads an unwelcomed dudebro hitting on Felicity.

Jealousy looks so good on him. The way Stephen Amell plays this scene, with his nails-on-a-chalkboard look at the word “sweetie” to robotically knocking the papers out of the elevator, is physical comedy at its best. Something Amell rarely gets to do, but he’s great at it.

The mainframe is on the twenty fifth floor, but the elevator only goes up to the nineteenth, so Oliver and Felicity have some climbing to do. It seems Felicity is thinking of a certain kind of climbing as well and really who can blame her?

Source: @lyricalarrow

Oliver lifts her WITH ONE ARM out of the elevator, which is so freaking hot I cannot.

Then, very gently, bends down to wrap his arm around Felicity’s waist and loop her arm around his neck. Oliver is moving with the precision of a jungle cat, but it also feels like an incredibly elaborate way to grab hold of someone. It has a very superhero sweep-her-into-my-arms sensuality to it. The mission is giving Oliver plenty of reasons to touch Felicity and he doesn’t seem unhappy about it, particularly when he softly tells her, "Hold onto me tight."

Is it warm in here? Holy Moses, Oliver Queen. Get control. This man is a god to women, so he clearly understands the connotations of, “Hold onto me tight.” There’s a thousand different ways to say that platonically, but nope! Oliver charges headlong into the blinking neon lights of SEXUAL INNNUENDO.

Felicity’s Freudian slip didn’t feel so Freudian either. She knew exactly what she was saying and leveled her full meaning in a single look. I thought the elevator was going to combust from all the heat. If you are looking for the text book definition of undressing someone with your eyes than look no further than these two. They way they hold the gaze. WOW. Can we have all the nakedness now?!!! It’s a sin against science for Oliver and Felicity not to bang regularly BECAUSE THE CHEMISTRY.

THIS IS NOT THE BEHAVIOR OF A MAN MADLY IN LOVE WITH LAUREL LANCE.

This scene has the classic Superman and Lois Lane feel to it.

Source: @olicitygifs

Oliver is doing his vigilante thing, but his partner in crime isn’t the leading lady of Arrow. It’s a supporting character who’s feeling less and less supporting with each episode.

Unfortunately, Felicity is about to be discovered while Oliver is held up by Malcolm Merlyn, Thea and Roy Harper. This is a very popular day to visit Merlyn Global. Oliver’s frustration under his cool and calm exterior builds the tension nicely and we do wonder how Felicity is getting out of this jam. Never fear! It’s John Diggle to the rescue. Top notch comedy from both Rickards and Ramsey.

Source: @olicitygifs

Their first official team mission outside of the bunker is a wild success. Felicity still has to search through all of Merlyn’s data to determine the location of the device. Despite all the heat, hilarity and hijinks on this side of the show, Oliver makes an abrupt decision regarding the other side of the show that makes absolutely no sense.

Lauriver and Merlance

Still feeling warm friends? Well don’t worry. I have a nice bucket of ice cold water to dump on you.

As predicted, Oliver’s love confession messes with Laurel’s mind and obliterates any clear path back to Tommy. He drops this bomb on her and they have not spoken for a WEEK. Of course, this is all Laurel has thought about and she makes a rather elaborate speech admitting she has feelings for Oliver too.

Yeah, none of this is a surprise. Tommy knew Laurel had feelings for Oliver. We knew Laurel had feelings for Oliver. Hell, even Oliver knew. The only one who wasn’t admitting it was Laurel, so at least she’s finally being honest about things. You don’t get a love triangle if the central figure in the love triangle doesn’t have feelings for two people. The issue is who does Laurel love MORE.

Laurel: Maybe Tommy was right. Maybe he and I weren’t meant to be.

She had a clear answer last week. It was Tommy. She absolutely wanted to get back together with him, but Oliver decided honesty was the best policy on this one subject only. This line enrages me because Oliver has distracted Laurel from the man she is truly meant to be with. I will die on this hill, friends. DIE. ON. THIS. MERLANCE. HILL.

Laurel: Tommy’s a good guy. Are you?

Oliver: I didn’t have an agenda. I didn’t mean to make it more difficult to fix things with Tommy.

Oh for fucks sake. Yes, you did Oliver. That’s exactly why you said it. This is just a straight up lie. Oliver absolutely wanted to confuse Laurel. He just doesn’t want to look like the bad guy for doing it. This is some A+ Ollie behavior.

After Laurel makes a wonderfully impassioned and heartfelt speech about her feelings for Oliver, after probably obsessing about it for seven days straight, Oliver dumps her. AGAIN.

Oliver: Nothing’s changed. My life hasn’t changed. I haven’t changed.

I am infuriated on Laurel’s behalf with this flip flopping back and forth. The time to make this speech was last week in the hospital hallway. That was the moment to let her go and put Laurel on the plane with the man she belongs with, but Oliver couldn’t do it because it was too damn hard. It was just cruel and horribly unfair to both Tommy and Laurel because Oliver has absolutely no intention of being with her. But now it’s too late. The information is out there. You can’t put the toothpaste back in the tube, my dude.

Laurel pays her father a visit to basically get his permission to date Oliver again. Yeah, let’s make the man who lost his daughter to Oliver’s selfishness sign off on banging his other daughter again. This show.

Quentin’s speech is equally as empty as any speech Laurel’s made about seeing the change in Oliver because we, the audience, have not been privy to those moments. We’re just supposed to take their word for it even though the last time Quentin saw Oliver Queen he was trying to arrest him for drug trafficking. But sure, Quentin thinks he’s “changed.”

In order to make this storyline work, you have to give proper attention to the Lance family interacting with Oliver and the writers do not seem interested in doing that. All the important emotional growth takes place off screen and we’re supposed to accept it as fact because the characters tell us.

Meanwhile, they are organically growing the relationship Oliver has with Diggle, Felicity, hell even Roy! So we know the writers are capable of SHOWING these moments of character evolution. They just choose not to when it comes to the Lance family. It’s why the show feels so completely disjointed.

Oliver pays Tommy a visit and wants to have a chat.

Source: @queensarrow

So it's safe to say Tommy is still pissed.

Oliver encourages him to work things out with Laurel – kind of?

Oliver: Lord knows, I am guilty of a lot of things between us, but not you are her.

What’s infuriating about this conversation is that Oliver still refuses to accept any kind of responsibility in their break up. Oliver pretends to be a friend to the all feminists and touts Laurel’s independence and free will. She makes her own choices and she chose Tommy.

Tommy’s point is clear, even if it is self pitying; Laurel is not dealing with all the information. If she did have all the information then she would choose Oliver. From Oliver’s standpoint, it doesn’t matter because he can’t be with her.

That’s not reassuring to Tommy nor is it supposed to be. If the elements keeping Oliver and Laurel apart were removed (the Hood) then Oliver wouldn’t think twice about making a move on Laurel. And Tommy knows this. These are not the actions of a best friend, which is why he’s so pissed.

Now, Tommy’s big mistake was throwing in the towel too early. He should have NEVER given Oliver an opening with Laurel, but he did and it set them on this path. No we have to watch it play out.

Oliver: I promised myself that when I crossed all of these names off the list, I’d be done, but taking down these people, it doesn’t honor him. I was just treating the symptoms while the disease festered. I stop the Undertaking… I wipe out the disease.

Diggle: What are you saying Oliver? You would hang up the Hood?

Oliver: Merlyn’s plan is what I returned from the island to stop.

Does anyone else have whiplash? Oliver does a complete about face and determines he can be with Laurel since he only needs to cross one name off the list instead of dozens. He’s just missing one step, gee what could it be? Oh! I know. OLIVER STILL HAS TO CROSS MERLYN’S NAME OFF THE LIST AND STOP THE UNDERTAKING. Talk about counting your chickens before their hatched.

A hero’s journey is a very specific type of story. Joseph Campbell outline seventeen stages in 1949 and Christopher Vogler created an updated version in 2007 for screenwriting. I’m not going through all seventeen steps, but we can skip to the very last one regarding this storyline.

Freedom to Live/Return with the Elixir – meaning the hero has faced their internal and external struggles, has conquered the demons around them and earned the right to live as they choose. From a spiritual sense, the hero lives without fear of death.

It’s similar with Vogler’s elixir stage. From a community perspective, the hero has found the magical way to heal their wounded land. They are bringing hope, life and freedom back to their loved ones. In doing so, it gives the hero a personal victory. They’ve earned the right to experience peace and joy, which can be represented in a wide variety of narratives.

Oliver is hero. Arrow has made his endgame very clear - save Starling City. Has he saved the city? Has he stopped Malcolm Merlyn? NO. So why is his leather clad ass running all the way back to Laurel Lance to enjoy the fruits an elixir he has yet to procure? If Laurel is endgame, this makes absolutely no sense. This is too fast. It’s too abrupt. It doesn’t feel earned because it hasn’t been earned.

Clearly, the initial plan was to put Oliver (Green Arrow) and Laurel (Black Canary) on parallel, if not intersecting, paths. I’m not saying Oliver cannot be with Laurel as they evolve into superheroes together. But this is the first freaking season you guys! He hasn’t done a damn thing yet! Neither has she. And yet, here Oliver is, knocking on Laurel’s door, looking for some fruit.

Oliver: Ever since I’ve been back, we’ve been doing this dance. We come together and then I pull away. Something pulls me away, but I think finally that something might be over.

Laurel: What are you are trying saying?

Oliver: That you know me better than anyone. And that you are more important to me than anyone. I just hope I didn’t wait too long to say it.

If Laurel has no clue Oliver is the Hood then can he really claim she knows him best? It sounds good to say, and probably what Laurel is dying to hear, but it rings hollow because there’s no evidence of this anywhere on the show. Laurel was wrong about who Oliver is all season. We are just supposed to accept some verbal acknowledgment of change, that she knows him better than anyone, but without any television scenes to back it up. That’s not how storytelling works, Arrow writers.

Sorry to beat a dead horse, but I warned you I wasn’t done with this topic - Oliver is still lying to Laurel. There should be more talking. What are those things pulling you away, Oliver? Why are they over? Are you a hooded, crime fighting, serial killer who has been mysteriously stalking me all year? Those are just some ideas off the top of my head. There is no person on this planet that Oliver needs an honest conversation with more than Laurel Lance, but nope. They jump straight to sex.

Let’s talk about the sex. This has been built up all season. These two characters belong together. They are bulldozing over Tommy Merlyn to be together because they are this passionate romance that time cannot quell. It should be like the fourth of July in Laurel’s apartment right now.

Source: laurelscanary

Instead, of heat we get frigid. Fish have hotter sex.

I’m willing to acknowledge "Radioactive" was the hit song of 2013 and every show on the CW was using it. It has a very sexy beat and big crescendo. It sounds like a good song to use during a sex scene.

Except for the fact that it’s called RADIOACTIVE with lyrics like, “This is it, the apocalypse.” This is not the romance your Plan A couple usually requires in a scene like this. They had Blake Neely for a composer. Where’s Oliver and Laurel’s love theme? We'll probably get it in the season finale but anything would be better than "Radioactive."

Source: laurelscanary

Next issue. Black socks and jean shorts? Wardrobe – what were you thinking? Nobody felt the need to tell Katie to take off the sox? Details matter!!

Source: laurelscanary

Stephen Amell and Katie Cassidy kissing are like watching two pieces of flat cardboard trying to hump each other. Can they choose a direction? Are we biting or no biting? Are we using tongue or no tongue? Can Oliver unbutton his shirt or does Laurel need to help? Is Oliver going to drop Laurel while trying to get her sweatshirt off? It was just so awkward from start to finish. ZERO SPARKS.

Source: habibialkaysani

And for the coup de grace, they leave the curtains pulled wide open, so Tommy can see them screwing from the street. The look of utter devastation on his face is heartbreaking and that’s the final image they leave us with as their love scene fades to black. Oliver and Laurel reuniting are not framed as a good thing. It’s framed as a betrayal, because that’s exactly what it is.

Source: @queensarrow

Even worse, Felicity finds the device while Oliver and Laurel are asleep and HE LEAVES. No note. No, honey I have to run out and save the city real quick, but I’ll be back for round two later. Nothing. But please, tell me again how much Ollie has changed.

When I watched this episode live I was horribly disappointed the big reunion with Laurel and Oliver fell flat. This was really my last gasp trying to be a Lauriver shipper. And I use the term “trying” loosely. I was more or less looking for any redeeming qualities in this love story, but after this hypothermic love scene I was officially out. I could not ship these two. I could never forgive them for betraying Tommy. But I feared Arrow would never move on from Oliver and Laurel.

Of course, their real intention becomes all too clear later. Arrow was trying to blow them up to make way for something infinitely better.

Theroy

Speaking of flipping back and forth, these two break up every other week. Roy is clearly committed to finding the Vigilante, which leads them to Merlyn Global and a run in with Oliver, the disapproving older brother. Again, Stephen Amell’s acting is superb.

I loved the way he said “What” to Thea and the firm alpha male handshake he gives Roy, warning him to stay away.

Obviously, Roy accomplished his goal. He found the Vigilante. Roy just doesn’t know it. He thinks Oliver Queen is too much of a wimp to ever consider him as the man in the hood. Thea was good and ticked off with that “wimp” remark. Enough to dump Roy. She will not tolerate any slander of her brother. #QUEENSIBILINGSFOREVER

But this is like the fifth time these two broke up, so it’s losing the impact. This isn’t all about the Hood’s identity and thanking him for saving Roy’s life. He wants to BE the Hood, so Roy can protect the people he loves and never lose anyone again. The question is – who did Roy lose? Unfortunately, Thea storms out before we get an answer, but hopefully one is coming in the season finale. (No I do not remember who).

Long story short, yes I like these two, but the faster the Arrow writers move the characters into the Hood storyline the better. Otherwise they are just marooned on their own show like Laurel Lance Island.

Stray Thoughts

Yao Fei died! It’s so sad and traumatic. I forgot he’s shot in the head. Really didn’t need to see that twice.

Fyers is shooting down a commercial airliner to destabilize the Chinese economy. It’s always about money for these assholes.

Walter wants a divorce and I would say their differences are irreconcilable. Moira is getting what she deserves. You can’t kidnap your husband for six months and then offer him tea and crumpets when he comes home.

"Who the hell is Felicity Smoak?" Uh oh. Quentin has Felicity’s name. That ain’t good.

“Is the other archer working for Merlyn?” Please don’t make Diggle look this dumb again.

Merlyn versus Oliver battle was EPIC! The fight scenes this season are so stellar.

“Psychopaths are color coding themselves. That’s helpful.” HA!

Listen to the Watchover podcast reaction to 1x22!!!

If you’d like to support the blog, please buy me a cup of tea!

Disclaimer: Any gifs on the blog are not mine. If you would like a gif removed from my reviews, please message me!

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amylorndenit · 1 year

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My Transition Survival Guide #1

Hello again world! Amy here with those promised tips and tricks to help with your first three months transitioning into the new (and beautiful) you. Remember that they will not work for everyone, but they did work for myself and some others I shared these with (yes I did ask other transwomen for their input on this, too). Also, yes, there will be more of these because if I made the whole list here it would be uber long, so let's start with just the first five!

Find your network! This is super important, and needs to be done right away. A good, solid, supportive network of friends and family you can talk to during this time is crucial to your mental health. Trust me, it will be easier if you are not alone.

Do not be afraid to be yourself! Coming out may be the hardest thing you will have to do, and to be honest you may lose some people along the way (I know I did). However, it just paves the way to meet more supportive people. The first day I went to work in a skirt I was so scared, but that same day I met so many people saying how proud they were and offered clothes to help me. You have support in the most unlikely places, so do not be afraid.

Practice your voice! Estrogen will not do everything for us. Our voice will not change with it, so we have to work on that ourselves. TransVoiceLessons on YouTube is a great place to start!

Find your "Flow Zone"! What I mean by Flow Zone is find things that puts you in a state of calm and clarity. Many times through this first three months I noticed that my emotions took over, I started to 'hear' hateful comments (like...inner voices), or started to lose my cool for no reason. I found that finding ways to put myself into a state of Flow helped me realign myself.

Do NOT shut off your urges! What I mean by this is to not stop yourself from wanting to look like your desired gender or from talking a certain way. From my own experience trying to stop yourself and/or hide who you are/want to be just leads to mental problems like chronic depression, panic attacks, etc. If you want to wear make up then go for it! If you want to wear a dress as you go get groceries then more power to you! Trust me, you will be happier for it.

Part two will be up within a day or two, so keep an eye out, and I hope these tips help you out in some way!

Love,

Amy

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mortalityplays · 2 months

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Hey, is there a charity in Scotland to donate to for trans rights? Any that you would personally recommend?

to be honest I haven't had much experience with trans charities here. most of my own queer social circles in scotland are made up of people who primarily look out for each other, either through friend networks or the local drag and performance scene. I'm hesitant to recommend anywhere that operates a crisis service, because (for legal reasons) they're kind of notorious for working with police and institutions, which has really fucked up some acquaintances of mine in the past.

Scottish Trans are probably a solid option, they're very active in campaigning for legal and medical rights for trans people, and do a lot of public outreach and education work. if any other scots follow me and have suggestions you'd vouch for, please drop links.

I do want to add a caveat though: if anyone is reading this hoping to donate to a nice scottish charity to offset guilt for continuing to engage with jkr's work, don't bother. you cannot hope to make a dent in that woman's influence unless you are a secret billionaire and you're ready to commit the next decade to batting for us on twitter. the most effective thing you can do is put her books down, stop talking about them, and freeze out her cultural impact. please and thank you.

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probablyhuntersmom · 1 year

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Thinking out loud...I'm both relieved that Hunter wasn't singled out by The Collector to go through these horrors...yet ofc curious what it may've looked like.

Nonetheless, his mind would be unleashing nightmares upon him even after Belos's death.

C-PTSD nightmares seem to have three flavours (going off my own experience..this isn't textbook or researched, as a disclaimer).

There are two kinds that have the theme of immediate danger.

First is the type where you yourself are being physically threatened. I don't want to choose the more graphic violent ones for this post but an example I can cite is being arrested and thrown into prison. Those got me on pretty high alert and idk, it was like this I guess:

Second would be the ones where you can't save someone else. Those hurt and yes, they pack a nasty punch. I've only had this type once as far as I can remember. But poor Hunter would have it worse since Belos could literally puppet him to be the one to harm the best friend he loved most:

The relational ones, though? That involve being blamed and/or abandoned, with no physical threats? Those are where you are in touch with the shame, which in a way makes it the worst of all three in my opinion. Because the deep sense of shame is the aspect of the condition which you can't reason your way out of using impersonal logic...in the way that you can e.g. come up with an escape plan or hold off an assailant.

The most memorable one was being in a dark room, almost entirely pitch black, seeing my 5 or 6-year-old self looking at me like this:

and because you just know stuff in dreams, I knew she was demanding an answer from me, as to why I wasn't there for her to protect her.

And holy smokes this was freakier than the first two categories. Because I had no adrenaline in my system, and somehow this third kind of dream always takes place in narrow spaces where I can't sprint and run elsewhere. Brainnnn, whyyyy?? Therefore I couldn't even give myself an adrenaline rush from fleeing anyway if I wanted to. (Idk if anyone else experiences this?) The first two kinds always took place in wide spaces e.g. underground parking lots and forests.

A similar nightmare involved an abusive family member whom I was trapped on a small boat with, and I had to listen to him demean and minimize me all over again while I was stuck, and I somehow didn't make myself just jump off the boat to swim away.

This type of nightmare is the one that can get me upset for hours after I wake from them, while with the others I get out of the shock a lot quicker for some reason.

For Hunter...it would involve Belos, other Grimwalkers, his friends and others such as those he previously worked with in the Castle, blaming him and judging him in his nightmares. Worst is if Flapjack does the same to him and rejects him. And I apologize for this angsty train ride but...but...he might see those poor lost palismen all over again, since it points towards the profession we see him thriving in, during the epilogue sequence...:

*drags this lost child to therapy sessions*

So yeah. The first two kinds are a more straightforward fit with how C-PTSD changes a person's neural networks and primes them to act relatively calmly in actual physical crises. The high price paid is, the person therefore struggles once things become safer (e.g. arguing with someone who is actually a safe presence), in some twisted unfair form of compensation. This is seen in how Hunter's triggers properly emerge once he's actually physically distanced from Belos: Labyrinth Runners and For the Future are the main examples.

It is painful and difficult, only becoming easier once the person has built a solid support network and can repair their own relationship with themselves.

In fact, my body sometimes feels as though I strangely want such a thrill e.g. riding in an ambulance all over again, a re-enactment of those times of high alert, because they are still more 'comfortable': rather than having no choice but to experience and accept that ingrained sense of shame, process it, and ride the wave instead of simply throwing a punch at it or evading it. Wanting that thrill is our equivalent of wanting a "fix", I guess.

Safe to say, this is why the canon Watching and Dreaming moments that hit hardest are the (false) blaming statements that Luz's friends direct at her. Because the ultimate test is whether the dreamer believes those or not.

#toh hunter #hunter's cptsd #the owl house #okay to reblog. I was just rambling #get the boi all the hot cocoa

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hpowellsmith · 2 months

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March 10 Honor Bound fixes and edits

Changelog for March 10:

When first meeting up with people in Chapter 5 while not officially romancing anyone, the person who likes you the most out of Matia, Raffi, or Savarel will come to talk as intended rather than defaulting to Matia

Character guide on the stat page no longer bizarrely leads straight back into the main stat page

Various corrections to stat check tests

Added another option to be pro-Denario with Mandriotti

Added an option to ask Raffi not to tell their friends about your love life

Signposted one of the consequences of the town hall meeting more clearly

Various minor typo fixes, tweaks, and corrected dialogue/description transitions

Thanks so much to everyone for your reports and feedback, it’s been incredibly useful! I read through everything and where I don’t make immediate changes, I keep an eye on what’s been mentioned to look at during later edits.

I've had reports about the end of Chapter 4 ending the game rather than going onto Chapter 5 as it should on the itch version, but I'm having trouble replicating it. If that happens to you, please can you clear your cache, then try again and let me know if it still happens - that'll be helpful for me figuring out what's going on.

On a non-bug-related note, just to let you know that you don’t have to start romances or flirt openly with characters as soon as the options come up in order for romances to work! I had a couple of comments saying they wanted to get to know characters better before starting a romance, which is totally safe to choose - you won’t break the romance by moving more slowly. To give a sense of the scale, I’ve recently been writing scenes all the way in Chapter 9 in which you can start a romance completely fresh with an NPC having not flirted at all before then - so if you want to be friends with characters for longer in the early-to-mid game, slow-play it, or simply play the field casually for some time, you can.

To start a polyamorous triad romance, you’ll want to do or say something to make sure both people involved have a sense that you’re interested in them, but even that can be started later than Chapter 5.

Basically, pacing is flexible and you can do what feels right for your PC. It varies across different characters, but overall you can experience a wide range - whether that’s sleeping with some people early on, flirting straightaway (in various ways - very overtly or more subtly), harbouring a long-standing crush and not saying anything for a long time, having an early crush that fades away over time, having a one-night-stand that turns to friendship, having a friends-with-benefits relationship that does or doesn’t become more romantic, becoming friends and being surprised by your own romantic feelings after a long time…

And/or have solid workplace bonds, become trusted friends, build a support network or a sense of community, develop a queerplatonic bond, give support and ask for it when it’s needed, or be a lone wolf and not get particularly close with anyone, focusing on the job and your other ambitions…

Lots of different options depending on what you want to go for!

A readable preview of Chapter 6 is currently up for £6+ subscribers on Patreon, and the full playable version will be up there on April 2!

Read more about Honor Bound on the Choice of Games forum thread

Play the Honor Bound demo on dashingdon and itch

Give feedback

Wishlist on Steam

#honor bound #honor bound bug reports #honor bound minor update

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zinzinina · 2 years

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okay I'm not sure I'd you're still doing the uh. thing where you write a scene from a different pov but if you are and have time/interest, would you feel like doing poe pov with that part in directions where he asks how many other guys she's been with? I love love love that fic so much btw and I'm gonna go through your masterlist when I get off work <3

Hello! ✨ A little confession: some of these have been sitting in my inbox for months. I secretly didn't plan on fulfilling this request because it meant that I'd need to go re-read Directions, and I very rarely read my own writing again once it's been posted. But I was in the mood for something fun and easy, and then I actually had a great time revisiting this story! So thank you so so much @buckyisdisabled, @lostinwonderland314, @mandaloriandin and sweet Yearning Human anon for asking for this and for your lovely messages. I really hope you have as much fun reading it as I did writing it x

Pairing: Poe Dameron x F!Reader

Word Count: 3.5k

Rating: Explicit 18+

Warnings: PIV, creampie, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, squirting, feelings, implied cum eating, overstimulation, masturbation, friends to lovers

This is reworking of a scene from this fic, told from Poe’s POV.

from a certain point of view ask game ✨

———

Poe sucks his slick fingers into his mouth, and her taste hits his head like spice; sharp and sweet.

She pants up at him from his pillow (his pillow) her eyes wide as a nervous animal’s, her hands curled into fists. It takes everything he has not to blow his load in his pants right then and there.

He feels a little drunk. He needs to course-correct.

Drastically.

He’d meant it when he told her he thought this would be fun. Because everything is, with her. He thought she’d be giving him shit the whole time. He’d expected her to be unimpressed with him in the way only she ever is; doing what she does best and keeping his feet nailed to solid ground even while his head did tailspins around the sound of her laughing at him.

But she’s not laughing at him. The way she’s looking up at him…

This, right here, is extremely fucking serious for her.

Maybe he should’ve tried to make this nicer. Maybe he should’ve lit candles.

For reasons that are not entirely clear, he catches himself remembering a particularly fucked up day from several months back. His comms and tracking had both shorted out after a hit in the middle of an above-planet dogfight with no visual, and for about two hours, the Resistance network listed him PKIA.

When he’d eventually landed back in the hanger, it was chaotic with smoking, twisted astromech parts. Unbeknownst to him, Black One was a ghost ship.

Mechanics and pilots alike had turned and gaped in silent shock as he’d climbed out of his cockpit, and he’d only had a moment to wonder whether there was something growing out of the top of his head before he’d been knocked off his feet by a sobbing projectile stinking of sweat and smoke in an oil-stained flightsuit.

She’d only stopped crying after socking him in the chest, her voice hoarse as she told him how much of an idiot he was for not switching over to his backup signal.

He’d never wanted to see that look on her face ever again, and if he hadn’t pushed her into verbalising the source of her terror here, he’d be too turned off to go any further. He doesn’t go in for that shit; he wants his partners relaxed and comfortable and enthusiastically willing.

But it’s knowing what she’s actually worrying about—stuck in her head as always, thinking about everyone else; what he thinks of her, rather than focusing on how she feels—that makes him determined to stick with her, as long as she says.

He’s staggered by the amount of trust she’s putting in him. Shit, he doesn’t know whether it makes his heart ache more, or his dick. Like she has anything to be nervous about. Like she isn’t the prettiest fucking girl he knows. Like making her smile isn’t the single greatest source of pride he gets to hold over himself.

Doesn’t she know? Can’t she already fucking tell? He’d worship the ground she walks on if he knew she wouldn’t laugh herself sick at him if he tried.

It would be funny, if it weren’t so painful. That for all of her quick, sharp perception, she’d miss this, so entirely.

“Perfect. You’re perfect,” he says softly, and he can see how little she believes him. “Told you. Nothing wrong with you. I wanna try something,” he continues, before she can say anything to piss him off. He can handle her putting shit on him. He isn’t letting her do it to herself. “You’ll like it, I promise. And if you don’t just tell me and we’ll stop. Okay?”

“Okay,” she says, nodding, her eyes still huge. A sudden throb of affection makes his head feel like it’s filled with tibanna gas.

“I’m gonna take your pants off,” he tells her, grasping each of her ankles to do exactly this.

She lifts her ass toward him as he wriggles her underwear and pants over her legs, giving him a brief glimpse of the most beautiful view he’s ever seen in his life.

His brain’s still catching up when he sees the furtive way her eyes keep flicking down toward where it feels like his dick’s trying to bust through his fly.

“Don’t you want…?”

“It’s not about me,” he cuts her off. And if you touch me right now I won’t make it, and I’ll ruin my reputation, and kill any chance of living any of this shit down with you ever again, he decides not to add.

He bends, spreading her legs with both hands. Her clit’s so swollen her labia are parted around it, the soft skin inside her thighs smeared with her first orgasm.

Her first orgasm—the first one another person’s given her, anyway—and it’s his.

And, oh, it had been so easy.

His ego is not immune to this.

But, nice as it is, it doesn’t quite feel like a boost in the traditional sense. It feels something more like a twinge, hard and new, right under his ribcage. Like vindication, maybe, or—and he feels like a fucking moron for even thinking it—fate.

He bows from the waist and nudges into her with his nose, his tongue laving a stripe up the entire length of her pussy.

Her skin tastes like soap. Somewhere in the dimmest corners of his head he’s annoyed at this; imagines her scouring every inch of herself raw in the showers before coming to him, filled with nerves and doubt under the spray. He presses the muscle of his tongue into her opening in search of more of the her he’d found on his fingers.

The sound she makes zips lightning-hot straight to his guts.

His eyes roll briefly closed, and he sinks down onto his elbows, the twisted line of the sheets digging into his skin under his weight.

She shifts her thighs together, her fingers twitching at her side. He steals a glance up and finds her watching him, her lips parted, her eyes too-bright.

“Open your legs,” he encourages, his lips barely lifting from her skin. She sinks her teeth into her lip as she lets her knees fall flat to the bed.

She’s spread out open in front of him, and he dips his head to continue.

She flinches and tenses and exhales in turn, reacting to every touch of his mouth as though speaking aloud. It makes him feel violently impatient, and so he moves slower, trying to temper himself.

He wants to be inside her.

He wants to swallow her, and to be swallowed by her. Fuck, he’s never wanted anything more in his life.

He’s pretty sure he’s leaking precum into his pants; all the blood having long vacated his brain to swell bruise-achingly hard in his cock. He tries to stay focused, but the reality is that Poe’s thoughts ran away from him the second she set foot in his room. The challenge now is to just try not to do something stupid.

Something stupider than fucking his best friend.

She hisses, tossing her head back, her legs twitching so hard his tongue nearly loses its place against the hot nub of her clit.

He slides both hands beneath her thighs to lift her hips to his face in an attempt to keep her still, barely managing to tamp down the urge to rut helplessly against the mattress in search of relief.

The smell of her, the taste, fills his senses. But it’s still not enough. He wants to bring her to insensibility; to work that softness into the bed, glutting himself until her whimpers turn to those of overstimulation.

He’d never really considered himself a possessive person, but as she quietly sucks in a sharp, shallow breath, he realises he wants that sound all to himself.

He pulls it out of her with his tongue again, and again, his attention unwavering.

He wants her thinking of this, of him, from now on. Every single time she comes, alone or otherwise. He wants her to dream about him inside her; tongue, fingers, cock, he doesn’t give a fuck. At briefings. At meals. Waiting around bored for launch clearance in her fighter, standing alone in the showers, when someone else presses their hands to her skin, and lifts her chin to meet her lips (and fuck, that hurts to think about, like hitting realspace at-speed, hard enough to grind his bones together).

She comes with a pained-sounding cry, her pubic bone bumping into his nose and pushing his face away. He drags himself up and finds her reaching her hands out as though to stop him.

“You okay?” he manages.

“Poe, I want…please…”

“What, baby? Talk to me.” He leans up, bracing himself over her. Maybe she’s changed her mind. Maybe she’s had enough and she’s going to tell him to stop, to give her back her pants, to never mention any of this again.

It’s still more than he’d ever imagined he’d get.

Her eyes stay on his and she blinks slowly at him, as though trying to remember who he is. His heart thunks hollowly in his chest, and he waits.

“Fuck me.”

He pauses. It wasn’t what he’d expected her to say. His already-painful cock jumps in his pants at the demand. “You need a break first?”

She answers by trying to drag him down toward her, her hips lifting to press against him, ankles hooked around the backs of his legs.

He doesn’t wait to be told twice. He shifts his weight, kicking his pants down, settling himself between her legs.

She ducks her chin and kisses his shoulder.

His head swims. He barely feels the touch of her lips through the material of his shirt, but it hardly matters. The gesture is so small, so careful, so quick, as though she couldn’t help herself.

As though it’s something she’s thought of before.

Which is when it hits him: the one thing he’s never seriously let himself entertain. Does he…actually have a chance?

Without undue vanity, Poe knows that his looks are the one area, at least, that he can afford not to worry about. He’s not an idiot. He knows exactly how people respond when he flashes his teeth at them, or holds their eyes with his own for a protracted moment from beneath a quirked eyebrow.

But never her. She’s somehow always been frustratingly, crushingly immune to every single weapon in his arsenal. It had been a source of ire in the early days, while he was still learning the colour of her voice, and the shape of her mind.

The sadder, slower ache of acceptance had come later; gathering like thunderheads, lingering long.

She wasn’t for him. She didn’t want to be. Letting himself pretend otherwise would have only ever been an exercise in masochism.

Despite all of this, Poe’s still human. And, as he had come to realise, knowing something intellectually is very different to knowing it physically.

Whenever she smiles at him, and bumps into him, and rolls her eyes at him. Whenever he’s inside somebody else, tasting the sweat on their skin, or stretched out around their pleasure. Whenever he jerks his cock alone in his bunk late at night, ashamed and furious at himself for such a disgraceful breach of their friendship, for the things he’s imagined.

Everything he’s ever done with anybody else; every filthy, beautiful fucking thing, he’d turn himself inside out and crawl over hot coals to do again with her, to her, for her, if she wanted.

And now, here she is.

He might not ever get another shot at this.

He needs to make it count.

“How many other guys’ve you been with?” he says, his voice coming out rough. She looks mortified, but he doesn’t care. “How many?”

“S-six,” she says.

He nods. He’d already known about Kip and Terrett, and he’d had his suspicions about Rau and Valen. He’s a little disappointed at the knowledge that Rau had let her down with all the others; he wouldn’t have expected it.

“Then that’s six other times we gotta make up for,” he says, distractedly.

He presses forward, and the first millimetre he sinks inside her already has him panicking.

She immediately feels far too hot and close, but the hardest part, the part threatening to undo everything, is the way she’s looking up at him, as though silently pleading with him, and Gods, how she doesn’t need to.

“Oh, sh...shit. You good? I’m good. That’s…ungh, so fucking good.” He’s aware he’s making no sense, but that’s the only thing left in his head, probably the only thing he’ll ever know again: good, good, good.

Her fingers are clenched tight around his forearm, and he thinks she might be holding her breath, but then she lets it go, and the wet bloom of her cunt swallows him fractionally deeper.

“You’re doing so good baby, you’re taking me so well, you feel perfect,” he groans, hoping he doesn’t sound as wrecked as he feels, his guts on fire with need.

She squirms under him, and fuck, she feels incredible. After coming twice he can feel the evidence of how wet she is, the smooth glide of her body gripping close around him, giving way slowly.

It’s suddenly too fucking hot in his room. He can feel his hair sticking to the back of his neck and around his ears, and it’s vaguely annoying, but he couldn’t give a shit.

Her warm breath meets his chin, and he follows the line of her attention down the length of his own body, to the place where his hips are flush against hers. Between her parted legs he can see his cock half-sunk inside her, and his face presses to her damp, salty skin as he murmurs to her, pressing forward, enveloped entirely by her.

He has no idea what he’s saying. It just feels important for her to know.

Whatever it is, he never gets the chance to find out.

Because then she’s kissing him, and her mouth is on his and her lips are parting and they’re soft and her teeth are catching at the dry ege of his lower lip and her breath is hot and it’s hers and it’s in his mouth and it’s in his lungs and it’s oxygenating his fucking blood and pumping through his heart and his brain and searing through every single part of him until she’s all that’s left.

He’s pretty sure he’s dying.

“Holy fuck,” he thinks he’s trying to say, and he feels her smiling, gently biting into his lip, keeping him quiet.

She rolls her hips up against his, pushing herself off the bed. He can feel himself rapidly losing control as she throws her head back, her brows drawn, teeth cutting into her own lip.

“Baby, wait, wait a sec,” he pants.

“What’s wrong?” she gasps, and of course she doesn’t listen; she never fucking listens to him, rocking up toward him, making him see stars.

“Just…fuck, hang on.” Cold showers, he thinks, grimly. Freezing cold showers, and depressurised-cockpit earaches. Nine hour-long diplomatic debriefs. The rancid-smelling mucus trail Klaud leaves behind everywhere he goes.

“Is this…not good?” she says, low and weak. “Poe?”

His eyes nearly roll back in his head as she whispers his name, and the sound jolts through him—her voice, the one he knows so well—like this, with him.

Whatever pitiful electricity’s still left in the meat of his brain fizzles out. “Oh shit, say my name again,” he begs, not even waiting for her to do so.

He’s already moving, needing to feel the walls of her cunt stroking and sucking at his cock. “D’you know how many times I’ve thought about this? About being inside you like this? And I never, ever thought you’d wanna…”

He shouldn’t be saying this. He’s gotta be real fucking careful, if he doesn’t want to accidentally tell her every shameful daydream he’s ever had about her and disintegrate what’s left of their friendship into dust.

“You’re fucking perfect,” he tells her instead. “Your pussy is perfect.”

She recoils, and it’s equal parts adorable and infuriating that even now she’d be embarrassed to hear him say this.

He almost laughs. “Why’s that make you shy? You don’t like me talking about your pussy? You wanna know how good you taste, baby? You’re sweet, so sweet and tight and—” and fuck, he can still taste her on his lips, and he watches her carefully, finding the place that makes her fall boneless and focusing there, right there, until the viselike grip on his arms weakens and she’s coming again.

Her voice breaks, but he doesn’t slow. She can take it.

He pushes her hips down, fucking her into the mattress, skin clapping on skin. She’s yanking at his hair hard enough to hurt, but he relishes the pain because it keeps his vision clear; exactly where he wants to be.

Her orgasm tumbles into another, and he seizes her knees, lifting her toward him as he picks up his pace. She moans, belatedly trying to cover the sound with her hand, and it’s the sweetest music he’s ever heard. He is never, ever going to be able to get that sound out of his head again.

“Hey, hey. Let me hear that,” he says, leaning closer, dragging her hand away. “Don’t you cover that up. Come on, baby, I wanna hear you.” She presses her lips together, and he huffs, driving himself into her just a little harder than strictly necessary.

He’s rewarded with a weak, throaty whimper, and he grins at her. “That’s the sexiest fucking thing I’ve ever heard,” he confesses.

Her nipples stand through the thin, sweat-sheer fabric of her tank top, her softness rippling upwards with every stroke. He watches her body greedily, wanting more, wanting everything all at once.

He wants, very badly, to lick her again, all the way from her neck to her sweet, trembling cunt. He can still taste her on his tongue as he presses his fingers down to her clit, just above the place where he’s still pumping in and out of her.

She cries out, coming again until she’s melting wet into the bed.

He still doesn’t slow, but his thoughts have run away from him and all of a sudden he realises it’s too late, far too late to stop himself.

He wants her full of his cum, until he’s emptied out all of the ache of himself into her, and her pretty, swollen cunt’s overfull with him until he dribbles out from between her lips and onto his fingers, making a mess of the sheets so he can start all over again.

Right at the precipice of his climax, she opens her eyes and looks up at him. There are tears of overstimulation clinging to her eyelashes, and her fingers are clutching gently at the back of his shirt.

Nobody has ever laid me down as low as you, he thinks, surprised at the strength of his emotion, willing her to understand.

But then he’s coming so hard his limbs go numb, and he isn’t thinking anything anymore.

He presses himself deep, deep inside, shaking violently as she swallows every pulse of his orgasm. His heart is thunderous in his ears, his muscles liquefied. He slumps, panting.

If she objects to the deadweight of his body over hers, she doesn’t say anything. He stays there, smothering her, trying to regain his breath, until he can feel her beginning to shift uncomfortably beneath him.

“Was that…okay?” she says, ridiculously, like his soul didn’t just leave his body.

He doesn’t even bother responding to the question. “You’re crazy,” he muses instead. “She’s crazy.”

He’s lifting himself off her when his chain swings from the neck of his shirt, clocking her between the eyes. “Oh, shit,” he says, as she gasps in pain. “Sorry, baby.” He presses his fingers to the spot, feeling guilty. “Normally I’d’ve taken that off.”

He’s usually far more thoughtful than this when he has company, but this time he hadn’t unclipped his necklace, or changed his clothes or sheets. The thought simply hadn’t occurred to him. Because she doesn't feel like—has never felt like—a guest in his bed. In fact, her absences have only ever felt like temporary discomforts to be endured until her return.

She’s scowling at him, her nose wrinkled up like a Weequay’s, and it’s so fucking cute he wants to kiss her again. “Why didn’t you?” she says.

She needs to ask? “Because it’s you.”

As he crawls back down between her legs, he finds a spectacular mess of cum and sweat and the evidence of her orgasms on the sheets, and fuck, it’s soaking down here. He wonders whether she even realises what she’s done.

He’s disappointed he didn’t get to watch. He’s sure he can get her to do it again, though.

She blinks down at him, her eyes glassy. “What are you doing?”

His mouth waters watching the way her wet skin shines and he feels an answering twitch in his recently-softened cock. “Cleaning you up. We’re not done yet.”

Her eyes widen, but whatever she does next, he misses it.

He’s preoccupied.

Just tagging a couple of the lovely people who commented on the original and might be interested in this, absolutely no pressure of course! x

@saradika @oscarseyebrow @the-little-ewok @bacarasbabe @writeforfandoms @hardc0rehaylz @moonlight-prose @lcvenderblues @onfiretakemehigher @littlemousedroid @viceofdionysus @grufflepuff-writes-stuff @ifimayhaveaword @millllenniawrites @liamakorn @lilhawkeye3 @grumpymuffinmama @dailyreverie @mandelirious

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